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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years

Note

So I’m obsessed with the idea of cow shigaraki don’t ask me why lmaoo anyways shigaraki was always an asshole to everyone ( everyone tries to take him seriously but his cute little ears makes it hard) shigaraki hasn’t gotten out of his room for days and everyone kind of got worried but forced the reader to check it since shigaraki was a littel bit decent to them ( everyone knows shigaraki has a crush on the reader but of course the reader is lowkey dumb to notice) to there surprise the reader finds shigaraki humping his pillow while sniffing the readers sweater or panties that he “ borrowed” and moaning readers name, it turns out our little cow shiggy here has his heat not to mention little drops of milk are coming out of his pink nipples, shigaraki notices the reader and just starts crying and whining and begging the reader ti help him out because he’s in so much pain and can’t get off ( the reader does have a heart and helps him out but it’s not gonna be that easy since the reader does want to tease him a bit but soon gives him what he wants) a fluff ending because why not

This lives rent free honestly loll anyways add any kinks u want sweetheart

COMMISSIONS

BRO I JUST REALIZED WE REACHED OVER 100 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH

PLEASE SOMEONE MAKE FAN ART FOR THIS

If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q

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Master List

Warnings: Hand job, blow job, thigh fucking, normal fucking, mommy kink, this time Shiggy is making milk for y/n, pillow humping, heat, boobies lol, bad words, he has cow ears and tail because that’s fucking adorable, he cums like... a lot.

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I know what everyone is thinking, and I pinky promise that Shigaraki does not moo in this, so don't worry. I did read a fic like this and everyone turned it into like a “cursed fanfic” because the mooing weirded them out, but the only thing that really bothered me is that it was non-con (non-consensual [rape]). I will never ever ever EVER EVER EVER write non-con. Never.

Ok, I am on a fucking roll with the mommy kink, so here we go 😌

Anon your ideas make me write for literal hours cause I get so excited and I write for “20 minutes” that turns into four hours that turns into getting half of your requests done in less than a week. If anyone reading this can draw, I demand art of cow Shigaraki. This reminds me of Shigamothie (my guilty pleasure)

However, the way he looks in my head isn't drawn out, and um, I can’t draw 😃

I FOUND SOME UHIUHINIJMIOANIONSJIND

“Y/n, it's been days. Go check on him, ” Dabi said.

“Why don't you go do it?” you asked.

“Because he’ll fucking dust me, ” he responded.

“And? He would dust me too, ” you said.

“Y/n, first of all, that's impossible because of your quirk, ” Dabi said, “and second, everyone knows Shiggy has a crush on you. Well, everyone but you,”

“He does not, ” you scoffed.

“I'll bet everyone dinner for the next three nights that he does. But you have to go up there and ask him, ” Spinner said.

“Fuck, ” you muttered, “fine! Fine, I'll go, ”

You trudged up the stairs, sighing when you got to his room.

You knocked but there was no response.

“Risking my job so those assholes can eat, ” you muttered.

To your dismay the door was unlocked and you walked in.

“Hey, this is a dumb question, but-” you cut off, “Shigaraki are-are you ok?”

He was curled up on the bed in fetal position, naked with a pillow between his legs, humping it desperately. He didn't seem to notice you yet.

‘Is that my sweater?’ you thought.

You put a hand oh his shoulder, “Shigaraki? Are you ok?” you asked again.

He shook his head, moaning, “need you y/n, ” he gasped, “need you, please. It hurts. It hurts so bad please y/n, ”

You bit your lip, scratching behind his ears as he moaned desperately.

“I can't. I-I can't get myself off, ” he sobbed, “it doesn't w-work. I need you y/n I need to be inside of you I-”

He let out a strangled yelp as white liquid shot out of both his cock and his erect pink nipples. You knew he had cow ears and a tail, but you never thought he’d actually make milk. You knelt by the bed and sucked experimentally, enjoying the taste of his warm milk.

“Mmm, ” you hummed, drinking more.

“Y-y/n don't. It feels too good when you do that I can't-” he cried, spilling another load onto the poor pillow.

You giggled, “i didn't know you went into heat. It's kinda cute, ” you said, brushing sweaty matted hair out of his face.

He hid his face in your sweater again, just for you to pull him to face you once more.

“Mommy, ” he whispered, “I need you. Please, mommy, ”

You kissed his forehead, “mommy, huh? Y’know you're really not that scary, Shiggy. The ears and tail don't help either, ”

He whined, blushing, “please mommy?”

He looked up at you with puppy dog eyes that you couldn't resist.

You sighed, “fine. But only if you answer my question, ”

He nodded, “anything, mommy. I’ll do anything, ”

You took a deep breath before asking, “do you have a crush on me? ”

“Wh-what? ” he stuttered before blowing another load with a groan.

“I asked you if you have a crush on me,” you repeated.

He couldn't hide it from you. He couldn't even hide it from himself.

“Yes, ” he groaned, “yes, I have a fucking crush on you. Please fuck me y/n, ”

“Say please again, baby. I love it when you beg,” you said, kissing him.

He froze as you pressed your lips to his. Shigaraki looked up at you with wide eyes. That was his first kiss, and he got to share it with you.

“Please, ” he whispered, “please fuck me y/n, ”

You ran your hand up and down the back of his thigh, stopping to squeeze his butt gently. You took his nipple in your mouth again, drinking more of his milk before kissing him again. This time he returned your affection. You took away the pillow, and he started whining, practically crying at the lack of stimulation. He was already a mess. There was really no need for teasing, but you couldn't help yourself. You tapped the tip of his cock with your pointer finger, watching as he moaned and tried to buck into it.

“So sensitive, ” you said, pulling your hand away, “I think we’re gonna have some fun Shiggy, ”

He nodded, “mommy, please, please touch me, ”

You couldn't deny him any longer. He was practically crying. He’d been so touch-starved for years it wasn't just about how badly he needed to cum it was about how badly he needed not only to be touched but to touch someone else. He hadn't given or received a hug since he was a kid, and even now, he couldn't if he wanted to. Until you joined.

Your first quirk was impressive, but the fact that you had a secondary quirk to cancel out his had to be fate. He decided that very day that you were his soulmate. You were the one he could do all that cheesy romance stuff he’d seen during movie nights when it was Toga’s turn. You were his from the moment he saw you.

“I’ll touch you baby boy, don't worry, ” you said, taking off your shirt.

He stared at your chest as you unclipped your bra. He reached for your boob, seemingly to play with it in his hands but instead pulled you towards his mouth. He sucked harshly, groping your other tit. You groaned as he pinched and twisted your left nipple and sucked on your right one. You weren't even on the bed yet, still knelt beside it. You pushed him away and climbed on top of him, laying him flat on his back.

“You're so rough with mommy, sweetie. You have absolutely no power in this position, no matter how much you'd like to deny it. Now I wonder, ” you said, reaching between his legs, “does this little cow moo?”

You jerked his cock harshly, causing Shigaraki to let out a loud moan.

You whispered in his ear, “It looks like the answer is yes, ”

You kissed his cute little ear, still getting him off with your hands. He came again, painting your hand with cum, but he still wasn't satisfied. You took his nipple in your mouth once again, sucking warm milk from him. He was shuddering and thrashing around on the bed once again, falling apart from the lack of stimulation to his dick.

“Mommy, need inside. Please mommy please, ” he begged.

“Be patient, Shigaraki, ” you said, caressing his cheek, “I'm taking you every way I know how, ”

You crawled down the bed, letting your left hand trail down his body, pinching and twisting his nipple again. You smeared the milk that oozed out over it. When you finally settled between his legs, you took your time admiring and practically worshipping his thighs. You kneaded the flesh in your hands, kissing, licking, and biting them, thrilled you were finally able to get your hands on them. You’d always had a thing for his thighs, not sure why.

When you finally started moving upwards he begged you shamelessly.

“Please put your mouth on my cock, mommy, ” he whined, “please, I'll be good. I’ll be a good boy for you mommy, ”

You bit and kissed his inner thighs more, traveling as high as you could while still ignoring his oozing cock. You had to dig your nails into his thighs to keep Shigaraki from closing them. You finally brushed your lips against his balls, and Shigaraki almost came right then and there. You licked long stripes up his dick, pausing to let your tongue tickle the head. He was holding back now, trying to last so he could feel your mouth for just a little longer. You sucked on the head of his cock, impressed by his willpower and even more excited to break him down.

You took him into your mouth and hollowed your cheek, not caring about the tears streaming down your face or how you gagged whenever you moved your mouth. He pulled you up until your breathing steadied.

“Dont hurt yourself, mommy, ” he said.

He pet your hair as you were still only halfway down his cock. He was so sweet to you, such a good boy. You rolled his balls in one hand, wrapping the other around what he wouldn't allow your mouth to cover, and sucked harshly on what you could. He was starting to break down, finally letting go in your mouth. He came with another strangled cry. If you were honest, his cum tasted awful thanks to his poor diet, but luckily, you knew exactly how to get rid of the taste.

“As much as I love milking your cock, baby, I think there's something else that needs milking too, ” you said.

You brought your head to his chest once again gulping down milk.

You pulled away “you need to est better sweetie. I’ll cook for you from now on, ”

He looked like he was about to object, so you captured his lips in a sweet kiss, letting him know how happy you were that he was here with you and how excited you were to take care of him. You had used your mouth and hands which only left one option, your cunt. Or so he thought.

“Kneel for me by the end of the bed, Shigaraki, ” you said.

He did as he was told, “you can call me Tomura, ” he said.

“Such a pretty name, ” you praised, “now put your cock between my thighs,”

You had lifted your legs as best you could, counting on him to support you the rest of the way.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“I want you to fuck my thighs, ” you explained, “and if you try to slip inside of me, I'm not fucking you properly until tomorrow and you can suffer for the rest of today, ”

He frowned. That was no fair, but he wasn't going to disobey you. He had promised to be a good boy. So he took off your pants and lined himself up with your thighs, moaning as he slid in between them.

“ go ahead, baby boy, make yourself feel good, Tomura” you said.

He nodded, beginning to thrust into your thighs. He had your legs draped over his shoulders and was dangerously close to your aching cunt. He was whimpering the entire time, desperate to finish so he could get inside of you. Feel how warm and wet you were. Letting you squeeze him and milk his cock, how he’d play with your tits as you moaned beneath him. That's all it took for the head of his dick to peek out from between your thighs and paint you with his cum.

“Baby, you did such a good job for mommy, ” you praised him, “fuck me, Tomura, you deserve it, ”

He reached into the drawer of his nightstand, but you stopped him.

“I'm on the pill. You don't need a condom, ” you said.

He shook his head and rifled through the drawer before pulling out a cock ring, sliding it on.

“Wanna make mommy feel good too, ” he said, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, “wanna last so mommy can cum with me, ”

You squeezed him tight, kissing the top of his head.

“You're so sweet, baby, ” you said.

He pulled down your panties, lining himself up, and hovering over you.

“Tell me if it hurts, ” he said.

You nodded, and he pushed in slowly, stretching you, but you didn't want him to stop. Once he was entirely inside you, he stopped. He tried to commit the feeling of you to memory. He began thrusting slowly, focusing all his energy on making you feel good. He reached down to rub your clit, causing you to moan out his name. He tried every angle to try and find the spot you liked. When your back arched and you moaned out, ‘right, there baby,’ he knew he’d found his mark. He kept thrusting, speeding up, watching you come undone. You grabbed his hair, arched your back into his chest, and didn't try to hide your desperate moans.

“Tomura, I'm close, ” you said, pressing his forehead to yours.

He nodded and kept going, whining and whimpering. You groaned, starting to reach your limit. You started grinding against him, chasing your high desperately. You came with a high-pitched whine, juices coating his cock.

“That's it, mommy, please cum on my cock. I love making you feel good, mommy I-, ” he was cut off by his orgasm, crying out to you.

He collapsed on top of you, cum oozing out of your hole.

“Will you go out on a date with me?” he whispered.

You laughed, “yes, of course I'll go out on a date with you, Tomura”

“Thank you, mommy, ” he whispered.

The door swung open.

“Y/n are you dead or-, ” Dabi grinned, “we’re eating good tonight, guys!” he called downstairs, closing the door as everyone cheered.

“Spinner made me go ask if you had a crush on me. I said no, but then he offered to get us all dinner for three nights, ” you explained, “plus you actually liked me back, which in my opinion is much better than anything he could have offered, ”

He chuckled, “I'll have to thank him. You're not getting out of this bed until dinner y/n, hope you know that, ”

#tomura fluff #tomura smut #tenko smut #tomura x reader #mha tomura #tomura imagine #shigaraki tenko #tomura shiragaki #tomurashigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki smut #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

Oooh, Tom x reader request idea

Reader colored her hair or is wearing a wig just for fun and paparazzi pictures are taken from the back when they’re together so it looks like Tom’s cheating on reader and even reader gets freaked out at first but they have a laugh about it in the end

Thank you for the request darling! I’m so sorry it took so long for me to do. While celebrating the holidays then going back to school, I’ve been busy😭 But thank you again, and enjoy!💞

💌.

Ginny

If you’re a redhead I’m sorry😭 I couldn’t think of any other characters and this came to mind.

The harsh light peaking in from behind the curtains made you groan. You threw the comforter over your head and blocked the sun from your eyes. Tom shifted beside you, tightening his arm around your bare waist and pulling you closer into his chest. He emitted a light “humph” and snuggled into the back of your neck. The slight ache in your head made you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ease the pain. You kept your eyes closed till the ache subsided, trying to remember a single thing that happened last night.

Honestly, the whole night was a complete blur. All you remembered was that Tom, Harrison, and Harry had persuaded you into joining them at the local pub near your shared place for a quiz night. At first you didn’t want to go; you loved the lads but when it came to a game or something that tested their wits, they were intolerably competitive. Game nights with them usually ended with: Harry crying in frustration, Tom on the verge of committing murder, Harrison turning furiously red in anger, and Tuwaine yelling at someone for screwing up the game. Game nights were just a mess.

You were hoping for a quiet night alone at the house, but no such luck, Tuwaine had plans with his girlfriend. Which meant all three men came to you to fill up his spot.

“Please (y/n), we need four people in our group to go.” Harry begged, resting his head on your shoulder and looking up at you with puppy eyes. Tom stood in front of you, using his body to block the tv, and diverting your attention to him.

“Guys, why can’t it just be the three of you?” You questioned the men surrounding you.

“Because the pub said it has to be in groups of four and we believe you’ll be a perfect addition to our team.” Harrison answered from your left side. A cheeky grin on his face.

Tom could tell by your features that you still weren’t convinced on going. He uncrossed his arms and kneeled in front of you on the couch. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, putting his weight on your lap and placing his chin on your chest.

Looking up at you with his soft brown eyes he said, “Please come with us, I promise it’ll be fun. You won’t regret it, darling.”

Your lips pursed together in thought while your eyes panned between the three of them, “You guys know how you all get during game nights.”

Tom huffed, his breath causing strands of your hair to move from your face.

“I know—we all know. But we promise to be on our best behavior. Plus, we’ll be on the same team, no competition.” Your boyfriend reassured you, his thumbs drawing circles onto your hips.

Harry snorted, “Yeah, besides the other five to seven teams we’re up against.”

“Oh, we’re winning. We got these two on the team.” Harrison bragged motioning to you and Tom.

“I didn’t agree yet.” You objected, holding your finger up.

“Yet.” Tom repeated, emphasizing the word.

Harrison nudged your shoulder, “Come on, (y/n)! We’ll have a great time. We might even win a free happy hour if we win the quiz.”

Harry shimmied beside you, “And what do we say about free drinks in this house?”

You rolled your eyes, defeated, “Never turn down a free drink.” The boys cheered around you, hyping you up.

“Come on, baby.” Tom encouraged you, hopeful eyes remaining on yours. You sigh, throwing your head back against the couch.

“Fine, I’ll go.” A round of cheers filled the room once again. Harrison and Harry squeezed you into a hug, sandwiching you in between them. When they pullled away, Tom gathered you into his arms and lifted you up.

“YES! I LOVE YOU!” He squealed happily, repeating that he loved you and pressing multiple kisses all over your face.

Well you guys must’ve won the pub quiz last night because the last thing you can clearly remember was entering the pub and the first two rounds of the quiz. The topic of last night’s quiz was Harry Potter; both being huge fans of the series, you and Tom completely breezed through the quiz, getting most of the questions (that you can remember) correct.

A buzz came from your phone, followed by another buzz, and another. The sudden movement of your phone made you peak your head from under the covers. Squinting from the light, you blindly reached for your phone and brought it under the comforter with you. When your eyes were fully adjusted to your screen you saw there were two texts from your cousin.

Tf is this?

Sent Photo ⃞

Your brows knitted together at the message. Curiously, you slide on the notification and open iMessages. The picture downloads and you see that it’s Tom, wearing glasses, black pants, and a grey knit sweater. Although on his arm, latched a redhead wearing similar attire as him but with a tight skirt instead of pants. There were a few more pictures attached. Some where Tom wrapped his hand around the mystery person’s waist and another with him kissing her face.

Your heart’s pace quickened as you glanced at the man cuddled beside you. Your eyes shift back to the phone; that definitely wasn’t you. But at the same time, you had no recollection of anything that happened after drinks were handed out. You stared at the pictures again, an expression on your face that resembled something along the lines of a scowl and a look of confusion. You really didn’t know what happened last night. You zoomed into the pictures, trying to get a proper look at the woman’s face, but to no avail, her face was either not in the shot or Tom was in the way.

You force yourself up into a sitting position and harshly smack Tom’s arm. He immediately startles awake; jumping into his senses making the bed shake. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. He looks around the room for some kind of threat but saw nothing. He did another scan around the room before looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Were you the one who slapped me?” He groggily asked, ducking into your side when the sun’s light connected with his eyes.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe ask that redhead you were hanging out with outside of the pub.” You retorted, still glaring at your phone. The tone of your voice causes Tom to whip his head from your side. A quizzical look is on his face as he thought back to the previous night. Surprisingly, he didn’t get as drunk last night. For once, he was one of the sober ones. You, on the other hand, were another story. Though he didn’t blame you for going on a drinking spree, work had been stressing you out and you barely got any leisure time.

“Huh—baby, what are you on about?” His voice is deep and rough from sleep. Sexy, but right now his voice was the least of your worries.

“What redhead? The only redhead that was there was—“ He couldn’t finish his sentence because you were shoving your phone in his face.

“This one?” Tom whines and leaned his head back to get a better look. When he saw the picture on your phone, his eyes slowly panned to you. Your arms were crossed and a scowl was on your pretty face. You were pretty even when you were angry.

“Did the drinks really fuck you up that much?” He wondered out loud, a hint of amusement in his words. He took your phone and began swiping through the pictures with a grin on his face.

You felt the blood in your body boil while your boyfriend looked through the pictures of that woman with a stupid smile on his face. You snatched the phone from him, “Well maybe, because who the fuck is this chick?”

“Are you jealous?” He teased you, poking your side. You slapped his finger away and glared at him.

“Oh I don’t know, a woman I barely know is hanging on my boyfriend’s arm! I’m not jealous—I’m just—a concerned girlfriend who wants to know what the hell happened last night.” You crossed your arms again, proud of the excuse you made up. Though, you really did want to know what happened last night.

“Darling, that’s literally you.” Tom pointed out, finally bursting out laughing. The scowl was wiped off your face and replaced with a look of confusion. Tom rested his head back on his pillow and watched you look through the pictures again. Your brows were scrunched together and a pout was on your lips, tempting him to press a kiss onto them. His arms slithered around your waist again, pulling you down so you were laying down against him.

“(Y/n), I’m serious that’s you. Do you really not remember?” Tom adjusted himself to place your head on his chest. Your lips were pursed together, eyes still trained on your phone screen.

“But my ass does not look that good from the back.” You muttered, zooming in on said area. Tom snorted and pinched your ass cheek, “You’d be surprised, lovey.”

It was quiet between you two while you continued to study the pictures. Tom said it was you, but it really didn’t look like you from behind.

“Remember it was Harry Potter night? Harry thought it would be a fun idea to dress up as the characters, so we ended up going as Harry and Ginny.” He reminded you, softly brushing tangles out of your hair with his fingers. Your mouth went slack as realization set in.

“Oh my God, yes!” You exclaimed leaning up on your elbows to look up at him. There was a hint of humor in his eyes and a lazy grin was set on his lips.

“How could I forget that I was wearing a wig? Where is that damn thing?” You leaned over Tom’s body and began to look over the bed to get a glimpse of the floor. Tom chuckled motioning to your makeup desk in his room. You find the desk and, lo and behold, was the red almost orange wig in all its glory. You shook your head at yourself and at the slow moment you were going through.

You turn back to Tom, “Honestly, what the fuck?” The two of you bursted out laughing, the sounds of your joy filling the room.

“I feel so stupid.” You groaned, shoving your face into Tom’s chest. He let out a giggle, thinking over what just happened in his head again. His large palm smooths circles onto your back, slowly making you doze off again.

“Don’t be, you were drunk as hell last night. I didn’t expect you to be in the right state of mind so early in the morning.” He reassured you, pressing feather light kisses along your head.

You hummed, getting lazy to respond.

“I’m sorry for getting too drunk.”

Tom shook his head, “No, you deserve to have a few shots and a generous amount of pints. I know work’s been hectic and then we all dragged you out on your free night; it’s the least we can do, seeing as we disturbed your down time.”

You shrugged, “I actually enjoyed going—well from what I can remember. I had a really good time.” You move your head to look at him, “Please tell me I didn’t do anything ridiculous.”

A smile was instantly on Tom’s face, “My favorite was when Harry kept on bringing you drinks and you started to believe that he was a house elf. So you started calling him Dobby.”

“Is that all?” You asked before drifting off to sleep. A faint smile on your lips.

Tom snickered, “You tried to offer him your sock.”

Tags: tags with a line crossed through it do not work!

Tom Holland Taglist ↴

@lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @cuddlykoala101

General Taglist ↴

@quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @roserose26

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #ally’s requests #tom holland x y/n

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

Real//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, I think that’s it ?

Summary: One small favor. A trade. That was all it was. Mutually beneficial! Until things between Fred and Y/N and their new relationship get a little more complicated and cause too many prying eyes.

Prompts: Fake Dating with dialogue prompts “we could have prevented this!” and “did you know you talk in your sleep?”

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: Day 3 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

“I’ve made my list of rules which you will abide by and under no circumstances will be broken. Number 1: this ruse does not leave the shop. I don’t want random people on the street questioning me because you couldn’t keep your huge mouth shut. Number 2: I will allow you to kiss me on the cheek and forehead as often as you like, within reason of course, and you can give me a peck on the lips 3 times in total. I will keep track. And Number 3: Don’t take up the entire bed any more or I will be forced to push you onto the floor. Sound good?”

“Bloody hell, you are crazy aren’t you?”

“Just a little bit.”

Fred was starting to regret his previous decision of making this arrangement with you, but a jingle of his shop bell and glance at who was walking in quickly made those feelings disappear.

“Deal,” he said, eyes not leaving the woman who had just entered. “But we start right now and I want one of those kisses.”

You looked up at your friend, confused at his sudden nerves before you followed his line of sight and understood immediately. You sighed and ruffled your hair a bit, looking for a mirror to fix your makeup. “I’m on it, give me a few minutes.”

Fred nodded, still watching his target walk slowly through the aisles of his store. As she turned a corner you ducked into the back office, waiting for a good time to reemerge.

“Freddie!” A high pitched voice pierced through the ear, equal parts flirtatious and absolutely unbearable. Fred glanced up, pretending not to have noticed the girl before. Putting on a fake smile, he set down the product he was pretending to tinker with and placed his hands on the counter table.

“Brooklyn, hi! How are you?” he asked, hoping his fake politeness would pass as genuine.

“Ugh I am so good. So SO good actually,” she said, twisting a finger through her hair. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you! I’m so glad you received my letter, I was hoping we could catch up, maybe over dinner sometime? I’ve had so many fine young men ask me out over the last few months, but none of them seemed to compare to you, my little Freddie Bear.”

He winced at the nickname, it bringing an onslaught of unwanted memories that he had desperately tried to forget. Brooklyn bit her lip and placed a hand on top of Fred’s, leaning in to accentuate her breasts and make sure Fred got a good whiff of her new perfume.

Very calmly, Fred placed his other hand on top of hers, now sandwiched in between his strong grip. “Brooklyn,” he said, faking sympathy, “you’re a lovely girl, and I’m sure any guy would be lucky to have you, but--”

“Hey, love!”

A voice interrupted Fred’s rejection, making a very surprised Brooklyn become absolutely enraged as she witnessed you come up and place a chaste kiss on Fred’s lips, smiling into him. Fred pulled his hands from Brooklyn’s grip and placed it instead on your hip, pulling you into him and placing another peck on your forehead. You both stared lovingly into each other’s eyes before a harsh cough stole your attention.

“And who is this?” Brooklyn asked, arms crossed angrily. She was glaring daggers at you, not even trying to fake sweetness for Fred’s sake.

Keeping his hand on your waist, Fred turned back to the girl who seemed as though she was about to explode. “That’s what I was trying to tell you Brooklyn,” he said, trying to keep his smile as pitiful as he could without it drawing suspicion. “This is Y/N, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

You nuzzled into Fred’s chest for half a second before reaching a hand out to Brooklyn. “It’s so nice to meet you! Brooklyn, was it? I don’t think Fred’s ever mentioned you before, are you one of his childhood friends. Cousin, maybe?”

That had done it and you and Fred both knew it. He subtly fist bumped you under the counter as you watched the girl’s face become redder than Fred’s hair.

She opened her mouth before taking a huge breath and stepping back. “No, actually,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m his ex-girlfriend. I left him to move on to much better things. Speaking of which--” she flipped her hair and smoothed out her skirt, straightening her posture to try to keep what little dignity she had left, “--I actually have a date. With a dragon trainer no less, and a very renowned one.”

“Oh really?” Fred asked. “That’s amazing. My brother, Charlie, is a dragon trainer as well, and he’s very well known in the community. May I ask the name of the lucky young man? Maybe Charlie knows him.”

Caught very off guard, Brooklyn rolled her eyes and turned to face the door. “That’s none of your business. I better be going, before we’re late to dinner at a very nice place, somewhere the likes of you most likely couldn’t afford.”

You felt Fred stiffen next to you and you squeezed his hand gently. “Have a nice time! It was lovely to meet you Bridget.”

“It’s Brooklyn,” she seethed.

“Oh right, silly me,” you said, shaking your head. “Bye!”

As Brooklyn sauntered out of the store, you turned to Fred and whispered seductively, just loud enough for the exiting girl to hear. “How about we have a nice night in tonight? I got something the other day that I’d love for you to see. Maybe after seeing it you’ll make me scream even louder than last night.” Fred’s face began to grow red and he had to discreetly adjust his pants, hoping you didn’t notice exactly what your words were doing to him.

Brooklyn slammed the door and practically ran down the cobbled streets, only screaming when she thought she was far enough away to not be heard. You and Fred both waited a few seconds before cheering and hugging each other, him patting you on the back for a great performance.

“Y/N! That was incredible! I knew I could count on you.”

“Yeah yeah,” you said, “I’m amazing, I know.” You smiled up at him completing the high five he was waiting on. “When you told me you needed help with a crazy ex I didn’t know you meant like actually crazy. She’s insane! How did you put up with her for so long?”

Fred shrugged, jumping up onto the counter. “She was hot and I was horny. Not much else to it.”

You rolled your eyes, jumping up to join him. A few days ago you wouldn’t have been nearly comfortable enough to lounge out on the shop’s counters like you were now, but that was before you were a permanent resident of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Before you and Fred had made the deal.

“You want me to do what?”

“Please, Y/N, it would only be for a little while until this all dies down, I swear!”

You groaned and rubbed your temple, wondering how in the world a friendly visit to your friend’s shop would turn into something with much more commitment.

“You’re telling me that you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Why on earth would you need that?”

You were pacing around the shop, trying to avoid customers as to not involve them in this very personal conversation. Fred followed you, pleading for you to help him like the great friend you were.

“I told you,” he said, “after The Daily Prophet did that expo on the shop and made me and George out to be rich sexy businessmen, and I mean where’s the lie, all of my crazy exes have been sending me letters and trying to get back with me. I can’t stand it, there’s so many!”

“Yeah, you were never one for long-term relationships, were you?”

Fred hmphed but quickly picked up with his pleading once again. “You don’t understand, Y/N, it’s absolutely unbearable. It’s common knowledge that George and Angie have been going steady for years now, so he’s got pretty much no one after him. But me? I can’t handle it.”

He dramatically threw himself on one of the empty product tables, causing a couple kids to glance in your direction before quickly becoming distracted by one of the exploding jokes across the shop.

“Oh, woe is me, I have too many beautiful women throwing themselves at me, whatever am I to do?” you mocked, earning a nasty glare from your friend.

“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t of upmost importance,” he said, straightening his tie and assuming a more business-like manner. “Those girls are crazy. Hot, yes, but crazy. And all you have to do is pretend to be dating me for a few weeks, a month at best! What do you say?”

“And what do I get out of this?” you asked. Usually, you’d never say no to helping a friend, especially Fred, but pretending to date him and having him practically use you to make other girls mad? You didn’t like the idea in the slightest. Well, maybe seeing the mad girls would be a bonus. You never cared much for most of the girls Fred went out with.

Fred’s face turned into an upward grin as he rolled his sleeves up and leaned forward. “I was hoping you’d say that. I hear that you’re looking for a place to stay, is that right?”

You nodded hesitantly, having an idea of where he was going.

“Well,” he said, pacing back and forth, “to keep up this charade we’ll need to convince everyone, including George and Angelina. You see, Angie’s friends with Alicia, one of the girls who’s been constantly OWLing me, and if she knew this was fake then she’d blow our cover for sure. Which means…”

You gulped.

“You’d have the pleasure of sharing the loft with me. You’d get a room, shared with me, and a nice living space all rent-free, and all you have to do is act all lovey-dovey and occasionally snog me. That sounds like an offer you can’t refuse.”

Unfortunately, he was right. You were tight on money at the moment and really had no other options. It was a deal you had to make if you wanted to stay afloat, no matter how much annoyance and embarrassment it would cost you.

Sighing, you let your shoulders slump, a sign of defeat. “You do know how to negotiate, don’t you?”

“Well I am a businessman.” Fred stuck out his hand, and with a slow, drawn out motion, you shook it.

It was the 4th night of living with the Weasley twins, or maybe 5th? The nights all seemed to blend together as you’d been having more fun than you had since Hogwarts. George and Angelina didn’t seem surprised at all when you and Fred told them your made up story about how you and Fred started seeing each other. In fact, they both said they always knew it would happen. You and Fred shared a laugh about that in bed that night, before he decided to take up all of the space on the small piece of furniture, prompting you to write your third rule.

Overall, it had been a great experience. Couples game night, movie marathons, gossip sessions with Angelina about you and Fred’s sex life (which you didn’t have to fabricate too much, you already knew too much from the incredible amounts of detail he used to provide about his dates with other girls). It was like being thrown back into a dorm room, and your old teenage self was starting to shine through again.

You stared at yourself in Fred’s bathroom mirror, very proud of how you handled Brooklyn earlier that day. She was one of the few girlfriends of Fred’s you never got to meet, probably because they only dated for a short period of time before she left him for the first rich snob to bat an eye at her. Out of everyone you could think of that he dated, she was by far the worst, which meant the next few days would probably be more difficult. It was easy making that bitch angry with smoke coming from her ears, but you didn’t know how good you’d feel about lying to someone a lot nicer than she was.

After brushing your teeth and donning your pajamas, your Hogwarts house colors of course, you crawled into bed and joined Fred, who was reading one of the novels you had recommended to him. “You like it so far?” you asked.

Fred took off his reading glasses and nodded, setting a bookmark in the book before placing it on his nightstand. “Surprisingly, yes. I didn’t think it would be my thing, but so far it’s actually really good.”

“Told ya,” you said as you laid down beside him. You and Fred were comfortable enough to share a bed with few problems except for his stupid long legs. You’d been friends for years and had grown way too comfortable with each other, so squeezing together each night wasn’t too out of the ordinary.

As you snuggled into the covers, Fred following suit, you mentally went over the schedule for the week.

“How many girls are there again?”

Fred paused for a moment, trying to remember what he had sent to each girl. “A few I was able to ward off via letter, the more sane ones, but there are still two more girls who insisted they pay me a visit. Addison’s coming tomorrow and Alicia the day after that.”

You nodded, although you ducted Fred could see it from his position. “Got it. Addison’s sweet, I liked her.”

Fred scoffed, wrapping an arm around your waist as he had started doing while you two slept. It was nothing more than platonic, Fred was just a touchy person. You told yourself he would do this with any semi-attractive girl laying in his bed.

“Yeah, sweet girl all right, until you come home to your entire apartment torn apart cuz she thought you were cheating on her because apparently you ‘took an extra 12 minutes of lunch break and it seemed awfully suspicious.’”

Your body reverberated with a small giggle, remembering how Fred had to crash with you at your old place while he was trying to replace all the furniture she had literally torn up. “That’s right, she’s almost as crazy as I am.”

“Almost.”

You wouldn’t have a hard time lying to Addison, you decided. It was actually kind of fun when you did it with Brooklyn. You could get really creative with this one.

You released a deep breath and closed your eyes, nestling back into Fred as he spooned you, claiming it was the only way he wouldn’t sprawl out and kick you in your sleep, which you knew was a lie. He’d find a way to kick you somehow. The git always did.

------------------------------

“That was surprisingly better than expected!”

You nodded gleefully, handing Fred a scone and coffee that you had picked up from a nearby bakery. Scaring off Addison had been even more fun than Brooklyn, you and Fred really getting into character and being as lovey dovey as possible. She seemed to take it well, but you wouldn’t be surprised if she triggered the security system tonight trying to break in and destroy the shop.

“And if I’m being honest it was actually kind of fun,” you told him, settling in behind the counter.

You raised your muffin to your mouth to take a bite but Fred’s huge mouth snagged a taste before you could, bending down and taking a chunk out before you could have any. “That’s disgusting,” but you had no disgust lingering in your tone.

“I agree,” he said through mouthfuls of muffin. “It was an excellent way to spend the morning. Bloody hell she would not leave!”

“At least she was nice about it.”

Fred reluctantly agreed before making another move to your muffin, one that this time you anticipated and you swatted his nose with a nearby newspaper. “You have your own, you greedy pig.”

He yanked the paper from your hand, using it as a napkin before the front page caught his eye. He quickly crumpled up the paper and tossed it into a nearby waste bin, something you wouldn’t have been suspicious of had he not done it so nervously.

“Fred, what’s in the paper today?”

He shifted to put himself in between you and the wastebin, his tall figure looming over you. “Not important, just more junk that no one cares about.”

You didn’t believe him for a second. “Frederick Weasley you move this instant.” You tried pushing him out of the way but it was like moving an annoying ginger stone wall. Trying another approach, you darted to the left before doubling back and running right, but before you made it two steps he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “Fred!”

You wiggled with all your might and finally made it out of his grasp, snatching the paper and unfolding it to read the headline.

Diagon Alley Playboy Finally Settling Down? Or Is Y/N L/N Just Another of Fred Weasley’s One Night Stands?

The color drained from your face and you slowly lowered the paper, reading the front page again and again. Attached was a blurry picture of you and Fred from the day before with you tucked into the side. The buggers at The Daily Prophet must’ve caught it through the store window.

“I’m sorry,” Fred said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I tried to keep things quiet, but I guess the press always finds a way in.”

You rubbed your temple slowly, trying to ignore the dread in your stomach. After seeing Harry Potter be brutally torn apart by the press for years, the last thing you wanted was rumors about you going around.

"We could have prevented this!” you exclaimed, slamming the paper onto the desk. “This is complete bullshit. We’re not even dating! I swear I’m going to march straight to their office and--”

“Don’t bother,” Fred said, completely exasperated by the constant coverage of his family. “It does absolutely nothing, trust me. As a close relative to a professional Quidditch player, The Chosen One himself, and his two best friends who literally saved the world, we’ve learned that nothing will keep them away. Especially since they pinned me as the player of the Weasley family.”

“But you’re not!” you said, getting angrier by the second. “So your relationships don’t last long, so what? You’re not some womanizing piece of shit that the papers say you are!”

Chuckling, Fred replied. “I know that, and you know that. But the rest of the world wants drama, so if they want to think I have a new girl in my bed every night I’ll let them.” He shrugged. “You get used to it after a while.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to,” you grumbled. “You’re one of the best people I know, and the world should know it too.”

Catching you off guard, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your torso and a head lay on your shoulder. “It’s ok, love, just one more day and then you can stay out of the papers forever, I promise.”

Sighing, you turned to face him and let a small smile shine through. “Thanks. But I still think it’s absolute rubbish what they’re doing to your character.”

“Me too, but at least you know what a charming and caring gentleman I am and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Aww,” you coed, “you love me don’t you?”

“Shh, don’t let the press hear! It’ll ruin the image they worked so hard to create.”

You hit your head against Fred’s chest. “Only one more day of this. One more to go.”

------------------------------

“Do you know you talk in your sleep?”

“What?” You were so busy trying to find something to wear that you had barely heard what Fred said.

“Last night, when you fell asleep. You said something funny.” He was sitting on the bed, adjusting his work tie and pulling on his socks and shoes. He looked...confused. Like he was trying to solve a complicated problem and he just couldn’t git the pieces together.

“Oh?” you said, growing nervous. Had you dreamt last night? You were racking your brain, hoping you hadn’t said something embarrassing.

You definitely had a dream, and Fred was there. You were at the shop...and Alicia came in! And…

“You were saying ‘Alicia, no, Fred’s mine not yours, I love Fred,” and umm, other stuff like that.” His face was heating up by the second, as was yours.

“Really?” you said through awkward laughs. “Must’ve been preparing for today, huh?”

Fred said nothing, instead choosing to focus on retying his shoes.

“Well,” you said, finally picking out your outfit, “I’m going to change, I’ll meet you down there later, ok?”

He nodded, still confused, and you rushed to use his bathroom before things could get more awkward.

You decided to take a nice, long shower to cool down, hoping that you could somehow wash away the embarrassment. So maybe you had a slight crush on Fred. Who could blame you? You’d been spending the last week cuddled up with him and spending so much time at the shop, not to mention acting like a couple in front of everyone. Who wouldn’t develop feelings?

But for some weird reason you had a feeling that this wasn’t a recent crush, rather something that’s been lurking right beneath the surface for a while. You groaned, hitting your head against the shower wall. This was not the time for this. You had a job to do, and Alicia would be here in 30 minutes so you had to hurry up.

Scampering down the steps 15 minutes later after using a drying spell and getting dressed, you stopped in your tracks when you saw what was happening across the shop. Alicia was here early.

From the looks of it, she had already made herself comfortable, leaning in to talk to Fred, who wasn’t doing anything to discourage the behavior. Instead, he was leaning in as well, laughing at a joke she just made.

Fury burned inside you as you watched the scene unfold. You knew from the beginning that Alicia would be the hardest ex to deal with. Not only had she been Fred’s longest and most intimate relationship to date, but she was also a really nice person, meaning you had no reason to hate her. But at this moment you did.

Alicia leaned closer, her nose almost touching Fred. What should you do? Did he want your help getting rid of her? Was he still harboring feelings and actually looking to reconnect? You saw him slowly lean in toward her, which you took as a sign to continue with your plan.

You were almost running when you reached Fred, who turned and seemed happy to see you. “Just in time,” he said the Alicia, “Alicia, you remember--”

You cut him off with a kiss, the third kiss you’d promised him. Except this one wasn’t one of the pecks you described on your terms and conditions. You pulled Fred down into one of if not the most passionate kiss you’d ever had, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you.

Almost immediately he pulled off of you, looking more bewildered than you had ever seen him. “I…”

“Well that was quite the spectacle.”

You looked over to where Alicia was standing, smirking at the two of you. Contrary to what you had expected, she actually seemed rather calm and actually amused at what she had just seen.

“S-sorry,” you said. Fred tried to say something but he was too dumbstruck to even get a word out. He just stood there, eyes wide and mouth twitching.

“Is this a bad time?” she asked. “I’m supposed to be meeting my fiancé for breakfast later so I can just come back another time if that works for you.”

“Your...fiancé?”

“Yeah!” Alicia beamed as she showed you her left hand, her ring finger adorned with the most beautiful engagement ring you’d ever seen. “Actually, the reason I’m here is because I just asked Fred if he wanted to be in the wedding as a groomsman. Or bridesmaid. Whatever works for him. Thankfully the big oaf said yes before you laid that on him, or else I think I’d be waiting a lot longer for an answer.”

Fred was still as frozen as ever, making you and Alicia chuckle. “Hey, it’s been forever since we’ve caught up, how about you and Fred go on a double date with me and Lee sometime?”

It took you a second to understand why Lee would be there, until it dawned on you. “You’re marrying Lee Jordan?!”

She couldn’t hold back her laughter at this, loving to see your reaction. “That I am! You’re obviously invited, I’m sending invitations out soon. I’ll hope to see you there, and don’t be afraid to reach out, alright?”

“Y-yeah, will do,” you said. Alicia looked up at Fred and then to you and winked, before waving goodbye and leaving the shop.

You refused to make eye contact with Fred, too embarrassed to even begin to talk to him. Maybe you’d just take 5 and take a walk down the street? That would help distract your brain from whatever just happened.

“Real?”

You turned around to the source of the voice, a now more interactive Fred. “What?”

“Real,” he repeated. He shook his head a few times, blinking rapidly. “Sorry, I just mean, that kiss was umm, it was real.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. The fact that you had kissed Fred, and an actual kiss at that, was finally hitting you. “Yeah, it was real, I guess.”

He took a step closer, his face assuming the puzzled look from the bedroom earlier. “Was...was what you said real too? From the dream, I mean?”

Now it was you who was frozen, feet stuck to the ground with no way out. What should you say? Confess your feelings and hope for the best? Or deny everything and try to work your way around this mess? You didn’t have time to think nor ration. Just act.

“Yeah. It was real.”

Fred nodded, pursing his lips and shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Cool.” He hesitated. “Would it be super crazy out of the blue if I asked you to maybe go out with me sometime. For real?”

A smile rose to your face, hoping that this wasn’t a joke. Slowly, almost shyly, you nodded. “Yeah, it would be a little crazy. But I’d say yes.”

Fred smiled too, a big toothy grin that only made you smile wider, before pulling you into a side hug. “Good, because you’re a little crazy too, so we’ll match on our date.”

“You’re a big dork,” you said, returning the hug. “What will the paper say when they see you with the same girl? They’ll probably explode!”

“I hope so,” he replied as he gave you a loving squeeze. “What I’m worried about is how we’re supposed to explain to George and Angelina that we’ve been faking this whole time and it’s only now getting real.”

“Eh, that’s a problem for another time. Right now, we’ve got some more pressing matters.” You gestured to the front window where a reporter was holding a huge camera, trying to snap a good picture of the two of you.

“I’ll handle it, grab me the dungbombs.”

“Yes, sir!”

You ran to assist Fred, head rushing with thoughts of first dates and future ones down the road. Of attending Lee and Alicia’s wedding together and getting completely wasted with each other. Of sleeping together each night, holding each other in an embrace that was now true and deep and caring. In a relationship that was now real.

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Tell Me A Story

Loki x f(magic reader)

Summary: Stuck in an Asgardian cell for your crimes, you meet an intriguing fellow prisoner who you can’t help but start to feel something for.

Warning: angst, fluff (you’re not leaving sad on my watch)

Masterlist

The ground feels hard. And your head feels incredibly fuzzy, like waking up from a deep slumber by some rude acquaintance who can’t mind their own damn business. Not to mention the throbbing sensation emitting from the left side of your cheek like two annoying disturbances. Were you smacked twice?

What in the bloody shitsticks?

The light in this place is so bright too, you have to squint when opening your irises for the first time to really get a good look at your surroundings. With the light in this awful place too much to bear, you cover your eyes with your fingers to lessen the harshness from above. Soon your gaze trails up witnessed a clean ceiling of pure marble white.

Wait. Are you dead?

Adjusting to the brightness, you slowly bring yourself into a seated position on the equally as shiny clean floor. To your left is a bed and a small nightstand while your right is a see through golden tinged barrier showing the other cells and a single guard walking down the hallway. Cells? Cells!

A prison? You’re in a fucking prison. Shit.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, head in your hands, you suddenly hear a knock on the white section of the confinement hold that turns into loud pounding. Thud! Thud! Thud! And a second later the white disappears, in place shows the same see through golden tinge. A guard on the other side.

“You’re awake.” He says, voice casual as an old friend.

You give him a puzzled look before feeling your face, “I think so.”

He takes a step into your prison where a sword is held in your face, maybe not so much an old friend after all, “As protocol, I must ask you three questions.” Delves the guard, stance never changing.

“Go for it tough guy.”

He remains unfazed, “Do you know your name?” Easy.

“Y/N.”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Uh.

“Well it wasn’t for stealing a child’s favorite toy.” You muse before quickly changing your façade, “But yes.”

He scoffs unamused, “Do you know where you are?”

Now this question you don’t have an answer for so instead do you give him your sweetest most innocent face possible, “uh, maybe you could enlighten me?”

The armored man rolls his dark eyes, “You’re in the royal dungeons of Asgard, placed here by King Odin for crimes against our realm. For that. You will remain until otherwise noted by the King.” Barks the guard, you stare up at him with wide eyes. Shocked and bewildered that you’re stuck in Asgard of all places.

“I didn’t even have a fare trial!” You protest.

“You didn’t deserve one, filth.” He counters before sheathing his sword back into its scabbard and off he goes into the golden tinged door. Out of sight in an instant. Rude.

Leaving yourself very puzzled and irritated at the whole ordeal, you never even got a trial to speak your side of the story. Nothing. Now you’re stuck in this dumb shit of a cell with literally nothing to do and no one around to bother, oh wait who’s that across the room?

Jumping to your feet, you swiftly walk over to the glass; there stands a man in green and black attire, leather bound book in hand as his slender face focuses onto the pages. He’s rather handsome in all honesty, with that dark shoulder length hair of his and the thoughtful expression across his face. You’re now fully intrigued.

Then your mind swirls with a thought, you’re in Asgard. So, this must be prince Loki, the one who failed to conquer Midgard. Soon a devilish smirk crosses your features, “What are you doing down here? I thought princes were the ones to put delinquents behind bars?”

Loki’s face shifts from surprise to amusement as he keeps his eyes onto the pages, “Kings.” Corrects the Asgardian prince.

You smile, “Well this king can eat shit!”

He lets out a breathy snort before finally drawing his gaze up to you, his expression quickly diminishes from amusement into star struck fascination when those beautiful blues land upon your beaming mischievous face. Loki has never seen someone so magnificently enticing in his whole entire life. But here you are, whoever you happen to be.

The raven haired man sets the book onto his nightstand before sauntering over to the glass wall, “And who do I presume you are? My new source of entertainment.”

Waving him off like a blushing maiden, you pretend to get all hot and bothered by his sly comment, “Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

Loki smirks, “I would indeed.”

You curl a piece of hair around your finger, gifting him a shy smile as you avoid his steely gaze. “Sorry.” You mutter, “I only tell men who can take over whole planets in under three days.”

He immediately loses his humored aurora, replacing it with a slightly taken aback yet somewhat pissed off one. “Ouch. But I can’t image you’re any clever if you happen to be stuck down here with me.”

You point up a finger, “On the contraire, my faults are less hefty then your own. So who really lost here?”

“From the looks of it. Both of us.”

You nod, “That is a truthful observation, but what has gifted us a sentence in exile are two entirely different sides to the relatively same coin.”

“Mine being, failure to conquer and rule Midgard. And yours being?”

“Fine. I’ll satiate your appetite.” He raises a brow as you trail your hand down the buzzing glass, “I may have tried to steal some pretty gems downstairs. Blah blah and I got caught by some lady named Frigga who’s a lot more skilled with magic then I had first realized and now I’m here. Granted I don’t remember getting to said “here” but alas my body remains.”

Loki smirks, “My deer mother got the best of you. How is she up in the real world these days?”

“Oh you know, told me she loves reading, doing the usual witchy stuff, and she hates you so go burn in hell for eternity you shit head little boy.”

Loki could have choked on his own spit, “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, she said she loves you. Is that not what you heard? I really thought I was being pretty clear.”

The Asgardian prince shakes his head, “Forget I asked.” Turning around once again to find his way onto the comfortable looking mattress, new book in hand.

You pout at the lack of attention, what did you say to annoy him? Was it the little shit head boy? Maybe he’s just having a bad day.

——

There he is. That incredibly attractive Asgardian prince of Mischief, just standing there. Reading yet another book in his beautiful greens and blacks and golds as he chooses to ignore you. The insanely gorgeous but deeply irritating woman across the cell from him.

You’ve been in here for about four weeks now and Loki has not cracked once. You’re really trying too! All he’s done is gift you with some telling facial expressions or the wonderful side comment to address your theatrics or harmless shenanigans.

All you want to do is get to know him better. And maybe along the way get the fuck out of here with a little help, and then preferably take the prince along for the ride. If it was only that easy.

Levitating in your cell just because you’re tired of standing all the time, you keep your usual unabashed stare-down with the prince when a random guard marches by. He looks from right to left and forward again before doing a double take over to you.

“Hey! Stop that!” He shouts, lance raised at your smirking face while you continue to float, “You can’t do that here!”

You simply roll your eyes, “Who has made this new rule law?”

The guard pauses for a moment, clearly indicating that he just doesn’t want you floating because he’s a party pooper. He swallows, “By king Odin.”

“By king Odin? Doesn’t his son fly?”

“Huh?” He glances over to Loki who’s not paying attention to you two in the slightest.

“Not that one.”

The guard makes a frustrated grunt before removing his lance away from your face, no matter the safety of the glass, “You can remain afloat but only under my authority.” And with that does he stomp off down the corridor.

Idiot.

You beam a victorious grin as he leaves your sight when a sudden slow clapping can be heard from across the hallway. Immediately do you snap your attention up to the prince who’s already sharing one of his infamous smirks, “Congratulations. You’ll now have an enemy down here. And it only took you a few weeks.”

You scoff, moving yourself to float casually on your back, “It’s about time too. Things were starting to get unbearably dull around here.”

Loki hums, “Ever try reading?”

You snort, “No, no I haven’t. Hmm, but I’d love it if you could read to me, since I don’t happen to have any books within reach. It’s only fair.”

Loki raises a brow, “Only fair?”

“Yes. I have the guards annoyed with me, so, they won’t care much about you. And. You get to read, but also to me as well.”

“That’s a possibly compelling suggestion.” Says the prince, mulling over your words.

“I thought so.”

You close your eyes as a couple moments pass before he speaks again, “But I must decline.”

“What!” You shout in bewilderment as he lowly chuckles, “I might just about die of boredom, you want me on your conscience when I pass into oblivion from lack of entertainment!”

Loki smiles at your adorable face, “Make your own fun.” He teases, though you don’t realize this.

Moving yourself into a standing position, yet still without touching the ground, you press your hands against the golden tinged glass, “Loki! You are a beautifully great annoyance and if I wasn’t stuck in here I would throw all your books about! And then….then I’d knock down your nightstand!”

He smirks, “Charming.”

You pout while your fists clench in irritation, “Fine! I didn’t want to listen to your loathsome voice anyways!” He gifts you with a proud half grin as you turn from him to magically throw your wooden nightstand across the room.

You land, reaching a hand out to launch the nightstand back across the room once more before repeating this action again and again until the whole flimsy thing combusts when it crashes violently into the closest wall.

Breathing heavily, you slowly turn to face the irritation watching you do all of this, “Feel better Y/N.”

Pursing your lips together, you release your tight fists, “Yes.”

He nods, “What would you like me to read?”

“Something joyful…….please.”

Loki shares a handsome grin before giving you a respectfully small bow, “As the lady wishes.” Loki shares a small glance with your curious face before turning to search for a book. He kneels down and soon picks out a book colored in a deep blue, something foreign written in golden cursive on the front.

You slowly return to the ground, this time seated criss crossed as you lean half of yourself upon the glass as you try and get as close to Loki as physically possible. Which is difficult considering the hallway’s short distance keeping your cells apart, but you try anyways. He opens up the book and quickly looks up to catch your gaze before smiling and looking down at the first page.

Loki reveals the smallest blush before clearing his throat, “The Fox and the Raven.” You smirk at his adorable face, how focused and deep in thoughtful concentration he becomes as the words flow off of his sly tongue like molten gold. You could listen to him all day.

“Once there were two beings, equal in skill and game. Best friends since childhood even, but there was one thing that drove a wedge in their long relationship. Another. This beautiful being was beyond compare to that of any god or goddess alike. And the two friends where undoubtedly in love with them.

It began one windy day by the river, the beauty stood, washing their hair by the waters edge with not a mind to mess with anyone in their head. The two friends saw them and smiled. “I shall win their affections.” Claimed the dark haired admirer, Tala. “Not you silly fox, I shall be the one to draw their heart to mine.” Spoke Essek with great confidence, his bestfriend in the whole entire realm.

They looked to each other with clear frustration sculpted into their faces, so, the friends came to an agreement. Whoever failed to win over the water nymphs heart, that friend must stay in their animal form forever while the victorious one could live on as they always have. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe not at first.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as the two friends would speak with the water nymph as often as they could. Tala in raven form and Essek as a dashing fox. All was going well as they played their little game of love until the water nymph began to grow quit fond of the raven for his talents in the sky and witty personality.

So much so that on the next full moon, the raven revealed himself to his true form before making love to the joyful water nymph on the rivers edge. And so the very next day when the fox arrived to speak with the nymph, he was surprised to find Tala laying underneath a weeping willow with the nymph in his strong arms.

The fox recoiled with jealousy before his heart shattered in two, Tala smiled a triumphant grin as the fox turned away in disappointment before rushing off into the woodland. Never to be seen again.

So that is why you can never trust anyone who is truly dear to you, for love is a fleeting thing and can turn friends into beasts for something as silly and pathetic as a beacon of affection.” Finishes Loki in an almost sour tone as you sit there on the cell floor, feeling a bit off and out of place from that abrupt turn of events.

You frown, “I thought you were going to read me a happy story?”

Loki closes the book, “I did.” Blue eyes on you in an instant.

“No. You really didn’t.”

Loki gives you an almost dumbfounded look, “The raven got to keep his original form and make love to the water nymph what else is there to want?” He questions like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. Not.

“The fox is depressed now. That’s not very happy.”

“It was happy for those two, was it not?”

You roll your eyes, “It was. But a happy story should have a happy ending for everyone involved. That’s the point of a happy tale being told.” You counter as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Not everyone gets what they want in the end, Y/N. That’s just life, some are fine and persist while others turn and run with nothing of any significance still clinging to them.”

You sit there a moment in bewilderment, soon rising to float threateningly by the glass, “That’s ridiculous! A happy story should be fucking happy! Love is supposed to be kind and beautiful, not this wedge that turns people against one another and supports a game that shifts into jealousy and disdain for one.”

Loki hums, “Well it is just a story after all. Love does that because it isn’t truthful ever, it’s a fleeting thing without any weight that only causes pain and disappointment.”

Your brows soon furrow at these dark words, “Oh and what do you understand about love?” You hotly challenge, voice accusatory and fierce.

“That it isn’t real.” Mutters the prince with a casual shrug, though his face flashes with uncertainty.

You scoff, “Is it now? You think love is a simple lie? A trick from the universe to keep races existing until their worlds collapse?”

“Yes.” Nods the Asgardian, “That’s what I believe.”

You take a breath, feet slowly touching the cool tiled floor as you speak, “You have no idea what it feels like then. So how can you claim it to be false?”

Loki crosses his arms, “True love isn’t real because that just cannot be realistic in any sense Y/N. Same thing as feeling happy or when you sneeze….the feeling is a feeling like butterflies in your stomach when you get excited. But like every emotion given, it leaves and the feelings are dulled or just dissipate altogether.”

“You’re wrong.” You bitterly mutter, voice low and filled with a somber hurt.

“And how would I be wrong then?” He wonders, truly curious to see how on earth you are able to counter this. He doesn’t wholeheartedly believe in love, though his growing affections for you seem to have him conflicted. He still wants to know.

“It is like magic, to be in love.” You reply, a faint smile ghosting your lips as you press your hands against the glass, “It is bright and brilliant and beautiful. It does not come and go like a fleeting spark from a dying flame. Love, like magic, forms from within when let into someone’s vessel. It is a power that always remains no matter where the person travels, or how old they become. Love, in the end and always through existence will remain. No matter what.”

Loki could have shed a tear at your beautiful explanation, yet his stubbornness persists, “A fairytale. Nothing more.”

“A fairytale? A fucking fairytale!?” You shout, voice rising in fury, “You don’t know anything but the lies you tell yourself you heartless bastard! All I wanted was a happy story that made me smile before I’m executed! And you couldn’t even give me that you selfish prick of a man!”

Loki’s heart grows cold as a winters morning, he blinks, forgetting how to properly breath at your heated declarations. He steps closer to the thin glass, brows furrowed in puzzled apprehension, “You’re being executed?” He asks, tone low and thoughtful.

Face falling into a deep frown, you lower your head in shame, “I have been condemned to die for my crimes above. Guess they’re not so simple as I had first claimed.”

“What do you mean?”

You let out a telling sigh, “I didn’t try and take the queens jewels, I tried to murder her..”

“You what?!” Whispers the Asgardian prince, eyes wide in shock, “What do you mean?”

Your gaze keeps trained onto the floor, “I am…well, I was….an assassin. Who, ultimately could not force myself to murder your mother Frigga, so I let myself be caught and taken. It’s the least I deserve for the life I’ve led. This is just how it goes, and I’m ready.”

Loki’s mind races, he never even suspected such a thing coming from you. Sure you’re indeed a beautiful mystery of a person who enjoys levitating in her cell for the hell of it. But your appearance and pose never revealed someone capable of homicide as their profession, least of all you.

And now, his father is condemning you to death rightly so, but Loki can’t help but think you don’t truly deserve this fate. Maybe, just possibly, he’d feel like he was losing a close friend. Someone who he never had any intentions of developing these strange new feelings for.

“I won’t let him end your life.” Suddenly speaks the prince, “You didn’t kill her, you actively chose not to, so I believe he could sway his final decision.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Wishful thinking.” Just as three guards dressed in their true Asgardian golds walk to the front of your cell. Loki swallows, they dissipate the golden tinged force field, leaving you with nothing but air to keep you from their clutches.

“Y/N.” Softly calls the dark haired prince, voice small and desperate, he didn’t think they would take you so soon but what does he truly know anymore? Your sad eyes lock onto his as one guard snaps metal cuffs against your wrists, and another around your throat before he ushers you out.

Loki can’t tear his eyes from yours the whole time, and even after you’ve been dragged down the hallway and out of sight. He thinks, maybe you’ll return and it was all a big misunderstanding, a simple nightmare and he’ll wake any second now. But he knows this is foolish thinking, you’re never coming back. And he’s beside himself.

Loki bows his head in silent anguish, fists clenched tight as his heartbeat begins to race when suddenly he releases his grip and a small blast of green magic emits in the aftermath. Just enough power to knock some books onto the floor in protest. He doesn’t pick them up.

In the following days, Loki would pace around his cell like a nervous lion. Reading book after book to help pass the time though he couldn’t stop his racing mind from thinking about you. Where were you now? What had they done to you? Did it hurt?

He didn’t know and what’s worse is the guards only seemed to mock him about it, claiming your life was worth more dead then anything else. It stung like a heated iron spear left too long in the hot coals, he missed you beyond compare. How did you make him feel this way? When did that happen?

He missed your mischievous smile, your alluring eyes of curiosity and concealed chaos. The way you spoke to him like a person and not just a prisoner, or even a prince who’s disappointed his whole kingdom. You didn’t care, sure you lived to tease and pester him relentlessly, but you didn’t truly care about his current status.

You drew the attention out of him without even needing to try, brought a smile upon his face weather he was aware of it or not, and made him feel genuinely excited about waking up the next day. You became everything to him and more, and Loki hadn’t even realized this until it was too late.

But now you’re gone. And he will never see another Y/N for as long as he is to live.

Loki sits with his back against the wall, hair undoubtedly a wild mess closely matching that of the room about him. Books, clothing, furniture, and other personal belongings lay around his cell like the aftermath of a furious hurricane. He didn’t mean for this to happen, but when he got word that his mother was injured in the attack by the dark elves and freed prisoners. He new it was his fault, he led them to freedom after all.

With his mother healing from her non fatal wounds, and the loss of his dear Y/N to the axe. Loki has been doing less then tremendous these past few weeks, clearly. The prince now closes his weary eyes, breathing steadily as a new presence makes itself known across the golden tinged glass. He doesn’t care to look.

“Well don’t you look sad.” Teases a familiar voice, not condescending but just enough to make him laugh if he felt like it.

He opens his eyes to find your smirking face, body safe and sound wrapped in a cloak of white and intricately laced gold. How absolutely beautiful you are. His brows furrow as he mutters, “You’re just an illusion.” Voice horse and filled with doubt.

You raise a brow, “So is this?” You ask in reference to the clean cut illusion Loki is controlling, “I think not. I can see right through it.”

He forgot about the illusion he’s been creating since his breakdown, of course you’d see right through it, “You died. And my mother is hurt.”

“So you lost control within yourself and chose self deprecation? And apparently…chaos.” The trickster god rolls his tired eyes which causes you to chuckle, “I see my passing onto greater things has weakened your ego.”

He scoffs, “Your ghost form does not amuse me.”

Taking a glance down the vacant hallway, you step right through the golden tinged force field like it’s nothing more then air. “Loki Laufeyson, I am not a phantom or a dreary pigment of your imagination you foolish prick. I am Y/N, Goddess of Chaos and Magic. And someone who has missed you deeply.”

Loki frowns, blue eyes focused up at your truthful face as he sighs, “I….I don’t think I understand what is happening.”

You approach his side before kneeling down to reach his level, you two have never been this close before, “My tale was true as the forming of this realm itself. But your mother saw me for who I am, not what I have been enchanted to do with my life. So she gave me another chance to live, and so I did. To protect her and guard her until she deems otherwise, that’s why I’m still alive and that’s why your mother still has a beating heart.”

Loki reaches out for your hand that you gladly let him take, “Those prisoners..”

“I killed them. Every last one of those fuckers and the damn dark elves who attempted to crash their ship into the great hall. Let’s just say, it didn’t go according to their plans.” You explain, pausing for a moment to share a longing look with the Asgardian prince.

The corners of his lips rise into a soft smile, a deeply relieved one while you look down at your laced fingers, “Loki.” You whisper before drawing your head up to properly look at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m still counting on a better story.” You muse as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Unfortunately none of these books happen to provide a decent tale, my dear.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “In that case I’ll bring you all the books stuffed in that giant library. There’s bound to be a good one, something happy.”

“I’d like that.” Nods the prince.

You smile, “But I have to ask you one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Did you miss me?”

Loki squeezes your hand right back, “More then I’d ever missed anyone.” Reveals the dark haired prince as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, though his fingers linger on your cheek a moment longer before he slowly pulls them away and into his lap.

You can’t help but snicker which causes his face to scrunch up in puzzled embarrassment. Immediately do you reach up to cup his cheek, “I felt the same way. And I think I might feel a bit more too, quit possibly a lot more. No. Yes definitely a lot more then I first led on from a few weeks ago in fact and all I must admit to you now Loki Laufeyson or Odinson..prince of Asgard I think I’d like to kiss you now if that’s okay with you.”

Loki blinks, did he hear you right? “oh.” He mumbles, clearly unsure of himself or whatever wonderful thing you just said.

You immediately remove your hand from his cheek, “Too soon. Sorry I just thought I read you right maybe I was wrong I can just leav….” You don’t even have a moment to finish your sentence when his lips press pleasantly against yours.

His hands hold your face while your own hands gently grip onto his forearms for support in your awkward positioning, with him sitting and you still crouched. But it matters not when his lips move in time with yours, he feels so lovely, like a hundred roses pressing against your skin.

Giving you that soft velvety feel, you could kiss him all day if he’d let you. Though soon enough the two of you must break for some air, and with that do you pull him to his feet while you float just inches off of the messy ground. Loki never once taking his hand away from yours.

“How can you….how can you do that?” Wonders the prince as he glances from the ground to your face.

You shrug, “How can you move things with your mind?”

He smiles, “I guess, I just can. A terribly lackluster explanation I know, but perhaps I’m not truly certain how either.”

“Well let’s not dwell on the unknown for too long, this moment right now is too sacred for anything else. And though I have to leave, I will return to you…..and next time with more books. Then you will have no choice then to read them all to me.”

Loki hums, “I don’t see a problem there.” Before whispering in your ear, “Maybe bring some wine, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

You share a bright grin, “As the spoiled prince asks, but it will cost you.”

Loki raises an intrigued brow, “Cost what?”

“A kiss. Before and after I do your bidding. Can you settle for those terms?”

Loki’s lips pull into an adorable smile, cheeks almost dusting pink at your new flash of boldness. He’s never met anyone quit like you in all his years alive. “I believe those terms are acceptable.”

You give him a wink, “Good. See you then.” And with that do you crash your lips against his for on more heated embrace before leaving one final kiss to his slender cheek and floating out of the cell you go. Stopping behind the glass to give your new lover one last fleeting look, “Miss me you prick.”

Loki smirks, “Always.”

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel #god of mischief #fanfiction #fanfic #tom hiddleston

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alwaysmarveling · 3 years

Text

Rock Band

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: None, just fluff :)

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Not too sure how I feel about this one, but it’s Wanda so hopefully you guys enjoy it (also I miss playing Rock Band)!!

“You ready for game night, Bird Boy?” Bucky winked.

“You bet, old man. I’m going to crush you, just you wait.” Sam smiled at Bucky with a glint in his eye and mischief clear in his voice. “You guys coming?” Sam turned to look at you and your girlfriend. “The theme is Wii games. Even Thor is coming.” You looked at Wanda for confirmation before answering.

“Yeah, sounds fun. Don’t know if we have the same need for total domination as you losers, though.” Tony laughed from his position in the chair next to you.

“Just you wait, kiddo. You’ll get into it. They all do.”

“Even if I do, I doubt it’ll be that hard to take a bunch of grandpas down,” you winked at the men before scooping some salad into your mouth.

“Since when am I a grandpa?” Sam scoffed.

“Since you became old, which, according to my calculations, has been… oh, right, always. Grandpa in spirit.”

“Well this grandpa is going to beat your ass, so just prepare yourself,” Sam challenged.

“I personally would like to go back to the ‘losers’ thing,” Steve countered. “The only loser is going to be you. Do you even know what games we’re going to be playing, Y/N?”

“Nah, but I figure whatever it is I’ll win,” you smirked.

“Oh, someone’s feeling cocky today. I’d be scared if I were you.” You turned your head slightly to your right, noting how Wanda’s lips curled upwards at Steve’s warning. “Nat has yet to be defeated in Mario Kart, and I, for one, am pretty decent at Smash Bros.”

“You’re on,” you winked at him, the table beginning to clear out. “See you tonight.”

When everyone had left the table but you and Wanda, you turned to your girlfriend. “I suck at Mario Kart. And Smash Bros,” you whined, burying your face into the crook of her neck. “What got into me?” Wanda laughed and ran a hand down your arm.

“You’re too competitive for your own good, detka. If it makes you feel better, Nat already knows you’re bad at Mario Kart,” Wanda smiled, reflecting on the many game nights the three of you and Carol had had together over the years.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better. I’m going to be a loser,” you complained, your voice muffled.

“You’ll be fine, babe. You’re good at, um... What's that game called again?”

“Mario Party 8?”

“Yeah, that one!”

“I can’t win game night with one game, Wanda.”

“Well, you’re always a winner in my book,” your girlfriend reassured you as she played with your fingers.

“Cute, Wan,” you huffed. “Maybe there is a way I could be a winner…” you smiled. When Wanda began to shake her head furiously, you began to beg. “Please, baby, you don’t have to do a lot. Just distract them a little? Please? Pretty please?”

“As much as I love you, Y/N, there is no way I’m messing with their minds just so you can win a game night.”

“I guess you have a point,” you sighed, making sure the fake sadness was clear in your voice. Wanda only laughed, brushing your cheek with the back of her hand.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Besides, if you win, I can’t kiss away your pout.”

“But if I win, you can kiss me as a little ‘good job,’ you know?”

“You’re cute when you pout, though.”

“Am I not cute when I’m smiling from the pure joy of winning?”

“Weren’t you just saying you didn’t want ‘total domination’ less than five minutes ago?”

“Don’t change the subject,” you grumbled. Wanda chuckled, pressing her lips to your forehead.

“Sorry, printsessa. You’d better go practice if you want to try to win tonight.”

“I suppose,” you mumbled, pulling away from the witch. “You’re going to help me, though, right?” Your girlfriend pecked you on the lips, causing a smile to slowly form on your face.

“Of course.”

---

Later that night, you and Wanda were sprawled across your bed watching the first show that played when you turned on the TV. Your head laid in Wanda’s lap as Wanda traced invisible patterns in your hair and along your face.

“Okay, but why is ‘womb’ pronounced ‘woom’?” you spoke up. “Shouldn’t it be ‘wom’? You know, like ‘bomb’? Or what about ‘tomb’? Why is it pronounced like that? Who said that putting a ‘b’ at the end of the word makes the ‘o’ long for some words but not others?” Wanda brought her gaze down from the screen to your face, her brows furrowed and nose scrunched.

“What the heck even made you think of that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “I’ve just been thinking.”

“Maybe you should be thinking a little less, printsessa,” Wanda giggled, drawing a swirl on your cheek with the tip of her finger.

“That tickles, Wan.” That didn’t stop the witch, who simply pinched your cheek before resuming her tracing. “But I thought you liked my thinking. I have some pretty good thoughts,” you defended yourself, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Like ‘what would happen if the French used the Statue of Liberty like the Trojan Horse?’” Wanda raised her eyebrows.

“It was a hypothetical!”

“A pretty bad one, if you ask me.”

“Well sorry, Miss Smartypants.”

“You can be smart too, dorogaya. You just… have your moments,” she winked at you.

“I hate you,” you grumbled, turning away from her so that you were facing the flashing screen, images playing across it but neither of you really sure—or caring—what was going on.

“You love me.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, I-”

“Guys, game night is starting,” Tony knocked at your door.

“Okay, we’ll be down in a second,” Wanda told him. You didn’t listen for if he had left, instead turning your gazes back to each other.

“Okay, maybe I do love you a little bit.” Wanda raised her brows, her finger now running along your lower lip.

“Only a little?”

“I might be able to be persuaded otherwise, but as of right now, yes, a little.” Wanda hummed before leaning down to join your lips.

“What about now?” she asked, her lips brushing yours as she spoke.

“I love you a medium bit.” She kissed you again, this time a little longer than the last.

“And now?”

“I love you a lot a bit,” you whispered. Wanda smiled, giving you one last kiss before sitting back up.

“I love you a lot a bit too. Now, let’s get down to the living room. I believe we have a bunch of ‘grandpas’ waiting for us.”

---

“Wanda, Y/N, I missed you. How has life been treating you on Earth?” Thor waved at the two of you. You guys had little time to wave back, let alone respond, before Tony spotted you.

“There they are,” Tony clapped his hands together. “We were just about to get started. First on the agenda is Smash Bros because this one,” he aggressively pointed in Steve’s direction, “said he needs to go to bed before 1. Party pooper.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Some of us just don’t want to destroy our entire sleep schedule in one night.” He turned away from Tony to face the two of you, holding out one controller. “We’ve got one spot left, who’s playing?”

---

More than three hours later, the clock read 11 PM and the group of you had made it through several games. As you expected, you hadn’t won anything, but Wanda held her own in Smash Bros and was actually close to beating Nat in Mario Kart at one point (that didn’t last long, but you were proud nonetheless). Thor beat you all at Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games, but with all the jumping and yelling going on at the time, you weren’t sure the tower would hold up long enough for you guys to actually finish the game.

“Are you planning on winning any time soon, Y/N?” Nat winked at you from her spot on the couch, one leg resting above the couch and the other bent at the knee on a cushion.

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed. “You know that I suck at video games.” No one else could hear your conversation with the chaos going on over Cooking Mama. That’s right, Cooking Mama.

“I actually thought you were playing us the first couple game nights. And then I finally realized you were just that bad,” Natasha chuckled, quickly having to dodge the pillow you’d thrown in her direction.

“Would it kill you to sit normally for once?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “Yes, it would.”

“How’re you doing, babe? Not too upset yet?” Wanda joined you on the couch with a peck to your cheek.

“Doing just dandy, Wan. See, I can be a good sport.” The witch laughed.

“I’ll check back in with you in an hour.”

“Hey, ladies, we were going to play Rock Band. You guys interested?” Bucky held up the controllers.

“Who won Cooking Mama?” you asked, a smirk clearly written across your face. Bucky rolled his eyes before responding.

“Clint. Now are you guys joining, or what?”

“Mm, I think I’m going to grab a drink. I’ll enjoy the show for a little bit first,” you winked as you slowly rose from the couch.

“She’s only saying that because she doesn’t want to lose,” Sam scoffed. “Y/N’s just upset she can’t deliver on her promise to beat us all.”

“Just you wait for Mario Party 8, Sam. Just you wait.”

“We don’t have that game,” Bruce whispered to you apologetically. “We let Peter borrow it for the weekend. Sorry, Y/N.”

“Are you serious?” You threw your hands up.

“Coward,” Clint teased, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Oh, calm down, Clint. Rock Band doesn’t even have a winner,” Nat chastised.

“Yes, it does! Whoever gets the highest score wins.” The redhead simply rolled her eyes before winking at you.

“Alright, I’m in. Put me on guitar. You coming, Wan?” Natasha turned to her.

“I’m a bit exhausted from the last game. Soon, though,” the witch promised.

“You want anything, babe?”

“A water would be nice,” Wanda smiled at you. “Thank you, detka.”

“Of course.” You squeezed her hand before heading toward the kitchen.

“How come you didn’t ask any of us if we wanted anything?”

“Okay, Sam,” you turned, crossing your arms, “Do you guys want anything?” A chorus of “no’s” echoed through the room. You shook your head, letting out a puff of air before continuing into the kitchen and grabbing one water for you and your girlfriend.

After a small argument over the song choice, Sam, Bucky, Nat, and Tony were all jamming out to ‘Say It Ain’t So,’ and you couldn’t help but laugh from your position on the couch. Wanda’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you close to her, not that you were complaining. You appreciated the body heat, and her, of course.

Sam did have a pretty decent voice, you had to admit. You didn’t think he’d get so into it, but it was quite entertaining.

Speaking of entertaining, it was extremely difficult to hold in a giggle every time you looked at Bucky. Not that he was bad at it—he was surprisingly very good—but it was obvious he’d spent hours playing this game. Eyes closed, head shaking frantically side to side, and cheeks rosy, one might’ve thought Bucky was actually playing at a concert. You were sure Bucky had his part memorized, which was quite a lot for a guy who was still complaining about all the “confusing, new technology nowadays.”

Nat couldn’t be farther from the opposite of the Winter Soldier. As one might expect, she was hitting every note, but from the look on her face, you had a harder time going up the stairs without tripping than she was having playing the game.

And Tony, well, you didn’t really know what to expect with him, but it certainly wasn’t this. For a guy with all the charisma in the world, you thought he would’ve been more… coordinated. He dropped a drumstick at least twice already, and he could never seem to hit the pedal when he had to use the sticks at the same time.

Unfortunately for you, the song quickly came to a close and a new distraction arose—you.

“Y/N, no avoiding it any longer. C’mon, get up here. Which one do you want to be?” You glanced reluctantly at Wanda before answering. If you wanted to play to win, your best bet was singing, but none of the Avengers, including Wanda, had heard you before, and you were in no rush to change that. At the same time, your girlfriend was right; you definitely had a competitive side to you, and seeing the looks on the guys’ faces when you won would be a glorious sight. But maybe it wasn’t all about winning, after all, Wanda had promised you a kiss…

“Put her on the mic,” Natasha smirked. She removed the strap of the toy guitar from her neck before handing it to Steve. Before you could protest, the microphone was shoved into your hands and someone pushed you towards the front of the room.

“Good luck, Y/N,” you barely heard Wanda call from behind you, more worried about what you were going to do.

“Okay, so, Steve and I will be on guitar and bass, Thor on drums, and Y/N on mic. We ready?” Bucky scanned the room for approval. When everyone except for you nodded, he went to choose a song.

“‘Wanted Dead or Alive?’ Really, Buck?” Steve shook his head.

“It’s a good song,” he shrugged, moving to his spot next to Steve. “Should we show them how it’s done?”

“Ha, funny of you to think you’ll win,” Thor boomed, rubbing the drum sticks together.

“Y/N? You’re awfully quiet.” Sam smirked.

“Oh, shut up, Big Bird. Let’s just get this over with.” The man held up his hands in surrender as he backed away from you slowly.

As the first few measures of the song passed, you made a decision. Screw what the rest of the Avengers thought, you were going for it. You took a deep breath as the words rolled across the screen.

“It’s all the same, only the names will change.” The second you started singing, you heard everyone else go quiet around you. Steve, Bucky, and Thor all stopped playing for a second, and you could practically feel everyone’s mouth drop as you forced your eyes to stay on the screen in front of you.

“Every day, it seems we’re wastin’ away.” Just keep going, you told yourself. As much as you wanted to shrivel up in a corner somewhere far, far away, you had already started this. Might as well finish it.

“Another place where the faces are so cold, I’d drive all night just to get back home.” A whistle erupted from behind you—it had to be Tony—and amongst the hooting and hollering, you smiled, relieved, as the rest of the Avengers seemed to snap back into it.

The rest of the guys got back into the groove, and at one point you weren’t even sure you could hear yourself over Thor’s rather enthusiastic drum playing. You had a hard time not laughing at Bucky when you were watching him earlier, but it was pretty much impossible to not laugh now when you were seeing him with Steve. They were definitely feeding off of each other’s energy, and, wow, was it a sight. You’d never seen them this… loose before. They’d definitely need a comb after this game.

Nevertheless, your teammates’ antics helped you fully relax into the song, and it was over before you knew it. On the last beat of the song, you heard a loud crack and whirled around just in time to dodge part of a drumstick coming straight for your face.

“Thor, what the heck are you doing, man?” The god laughed sheepishly.

“Are you trying to kill my girlfriend?” You glanced over at Wanda, who looked ready to grab Thor around the neck. One stern look from you made her hesitate, but the anger remained obvious in her eyes.

“I guess I got a little caught up in the game. In my defense, your human toys are way too fragile.” After one harsh glare from Wanda, the god swallowed and added, “I apologize, Y/N.”

“Dude, how the heck are we supposed to keep playing with a broken drumstick?” Clint inspected the broken piece, which was at least the size of his palm, passing it from hand to hand.

“Ah, forget it. We can just switch to a different game. Y/N’s would’ve won the rest of the rounds anyway,” Bruce shrugged as he pointed at the screen.

The rest of the Avengers followed his finger, and sure enough, you had finished with a perfect score.

“Okay, Y/N, I’ll give it to you. That was good. How come you never told any of us you could sing?” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Nobody asked me.” You shrugged before handing the microphone to Bruce, allowing the conversation to return to what to do about the broken drumstick and returning to your seat next to Wanda. “Babe, I defeated the grandpas,” you whispered before pushing your face into the crook of her neck. More relaxed now that you were safe next to her, she chuckled, grabbing your hand.

“You did. I thought you would’ve been more excited about it?”

“I’m very happy about it,” you murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” she smiled, squeezing your thigh. You whined, prompting your girlfriend to laugh softly and kiss the top of your forehead. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you sing more often. You’re a good singer, malyshka.”

“Thanks,” you muttered.

“Wow, Wanda, you didn’t even know your girlfriend could sing?” Clint teased. With the conversation back on you, you pushed yourself further into Wanda’s body. She reassured you by tracing small circles at the top of your knee.

“Obviously none of you knew about it either.”

“I did,” Natasha smirked, causing you to look up at her in shock. “I heard you singing in the shower the other day when I went to drop off the sweatshirt you left in my room.” You threw your head back in laughter before chucking a pillow in her direction, which she easily caught.

“You suck. You put me on singing on purpose!”

“You wanted to win, didn’t you?” your best friend shrugged, clearly not feeling bad for what she had done.

“Okay, okay, can we get back to game night now?” Sam whined. “Sure, Y/N can sing. But can she dance?” Everyone groaned playfully as Sam pulled out a copy of Just Dance. “Natasha, you’re not allowed to play,” he quickly added. The redhead crossed her arms, a smile on her face.

“Fine with me. Go get ‘em, Y/N.” You grinned. Giving Wanda a peck on the cheek, you stood from the couch yet again and rolled up your sleeves. This was going to be a long night.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #I wrote something #again #alwaysmarveling

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

serotonin boost prompt whenever you find the time: gallavich date with secret smiles, sweet kisses and the handholding we all deserve ❤️❤️

"We're gonna miss it, Mickey," Ian says for at least the third time, eyes on the ever-ticking clock over their fireplace. Mickey, kneeling on the floor in front of the worn sofa they had grabbed off a curb when they found out they had to get their own, just shrugs. He picks out a bright red crayon to pass to Franny, who's laying on her stomach next to him scribbling on the back of an ad for the local co-op.

"Calm down, man," he tells Ian. "She'll be here soon, can't do anything about a late train."

Ian sighs, leaning forward and rubbing his eyes. "Since when do you stand up for Debbie?"

Mickey eyes him warily from the floor. "Since it's not her fault," he answers, then asks, "Why you so worked up about it, anyway? It's not a big deal."

He sounds honestly confused, and it only makes Ian more upset. This was supposed to be their night. Their one night, all week, to just do something nice together. And Debbie had to come to them for last-minute babysitting while she went to an interview, then had to be late enough getting back to send all Ian's plans circling the drain.

He doesn't say any of that to Mickey. "It's nothing," he mumbles instead, knowing it sounds unconvincing but not really caring at the moment.

Sure enough, Mickey's eyes narrow and he opens his mouth to reply, but gets interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Mommy!" Franny cries, jumping off the floor to race to the apartment door. Mickey is slower to rise, grumbling about getting too old for sitting on the floor; if Ian we're in a better mood, he'd tease him for being perfectly fine with lying on it the other night. Ian stays put, leaving Mickey to follow their niece with a concerned glance back at him.

Ian listens to Mickey opening the door, reminding Franny to let him do it, and greeting Debbie. He knows if he followed, he'd say something about her tardiness, so he lets Mickey make his excuses and wave the two of them off.

He braces himself when he hears the door click closed again, and Mickey's footsteps come back around into the living room.

Mickey doesn't say anything about his sour mood.

"Kay, you ready?" he asks instead, grabbing his wallet from the crate temporarily serving as a coffee table.

Ian laughs humorlessly.

"I was ready an hour ago," he points out dryly. "But we missed our reservation already, Mick, we're not going anywhere now."

Mickey frowns at him. "Nah, fuck that, man," he says. "This is our night, right?" he asks, and Ian would be lying if he said that didn't warm him up a little, hearing Mickey call it that.

"Yeah," he agrees, and Mickey nods decisively.

"Let's go then," he orders, gesturing to the door. "I ain't givin' up on tonight that easy."

Ian can't help but grin, even as he asks, "go where?"

Mickey smirks, and slaps Ian on the ass when he gets up and walks past him. Ian starts, twisting to look at him with wide eyes, and Mickey waggled his eyebrows just to make Ian laugh.

"You let me worry about that, tough guy."

They end up outside the restaurant they had picked out together, some weird new mexican fusion place that advertised world-class margaritas. Mickey had gotten fond of the drink back in Mexico, and Ian figured it was something they could enjoy together.

"Mickey," he says as they get closer, " it took us two weeks to get in here, there's no way they held our table."

Mickey shakes his head. "Gallagher, I'm disappointed in you," he says as he leads Ian to the door. "Ain't conning you way into places your family's shtick?"

Ian just looks at him, brow furrowed, and Mickey rolls his eyes.

"Just hang back a sec, til I wave you over, alright?" he demands. "Watch and fuckin' learn."

And he's off, through the crowd at the entrance and straight up to the podium at the front. Ian can't hear what he says, but there are some wild gestures and hushed but tense words exchanged. At one point, Mickey gets out his phone and taps at it impatiently, pretending to wait for a response before waving it in the host's face.

That bit seems to do the trick, and Ian is waved over, picking his way through the other waiting groups without looking any if them in the face.

When he gets to the front, Mickey is saying, " and you're lucky he didn't have to hear any of that 'overbooked' bullshit, he'd have your fuckin' job for that," before taking off into the restaurant with Ian trailing behind.

He stops at a booth toward the back, and gestures Ian in first, sliding into the bench on the other side.

"What did you do?" Ian hisses lowly, leaning across the table toward him.

Mickey grins, and taps their feet together, catching one of Ian's and drawing it back to his side.

"Told 'em you were Ed Sheeran," he jokes. He reaches under the table to grab Ian's leg, pulling his foot up to rest on Mickey's lap. Ian has to lean back to make it comfortable, but the stroke of Mickey's thumb against the bone of his ankle is worth it.

"You did not," Ian pokes, but Mickey shrugs.

"Does it matter?" he asks quietly as a waiter approaches. Ian pulls his leg back, aware of how they must look, but takes Mickey's hand over the table instead.

"Guess not," he accepts, squeezing Mickey's fingers and feeling the metal of his ring. "Thanks," he adds, and Mickey's smile turns soft.

"Anytime," he murmurs, then grabs the menu to give his order.

"That was amazing," Ian groans an hour later, a stack of empty plates between them. Mickey hums his agreement, taking a final bite of fried ice cream dessert before tossing his spoon down with a clatter.

"Fuck yeah it was," he says with a burp that has the couple at the nearest table eying them with distaste. "Except the margaritas," he adds with a scowl, taking a long drag from the bottled beer they had quickly switched to. "Too fuckin' sweet."

"Thought you liked 'em sweet," Ian teases, leaning closer, and Mickey licks his lips.

"Nah," he says slowly, "that's just how I like my men." He winks, and Ian flushes immediately.

"Oh my God," he manages to squeak out, hands flat on the table. "You did not just say that."

Mickey laughs, open and free, and grabs Ian's hand again without prompting.

"The drinks were shit, though," he muses. "Now that I think of it, maybe I was just drinkin' straight tequila down south."

It's Ian's turn to laugh--"only you, Mick"--and they're both grinning like fools when he stops.

"Ready to get outta here, Red?" Mickey murmurs, tilting his head toward the end of the booth.

"Sure, Mick," Ian agrees easily, then let's go if his husband's hand to fumble for his wallet. "Let me just..."

"Hey, no," Mickey interrupts. "They gave away our reservation, man, we ain't payin' for shit."

"What--Mickey!" Ian whispers, but Mickey is already up and moving quickly toward the back, where he catches the door to the kitchen before it closes behind a surprised waiter and slips inside.

With a muffled groan, Ian takes off after him.

He almost makes it, but before the door shuts behind him, he hears the host yelling, "Hey, you can't go in there!"

"Shit, shit, shit," Ian mutters, faced with at least one sous-chef staring at him across the bustling kitchen. Before he has time to panic, though, Mickey is back at his side, grabbing his arm and pulling.

"This way, dipshit!" he hisses as they wind through counters and racks and boxes toward the door to the back alley. "Should've known you'd get caught," he pants, out of breath, "it's the fuckin' hair, man, too bright."

"You like my hair," Ian offers stupidly. Mickey stops long enough to make sure Ian sees him roll his eyes, and grabs a folded tablecloth and a bottle of something fancy from next to the door before he shoves it open with a hip and pulls Ian out into the cool night air.

Ian looks back for pursuit, but the kitchen workers couldn't care less. One of them even salutes him with a bread knife, lips twitching, until the door closes and breaks their line of sight.

They run for a few blocks anyway, until Mickey tugs him into a different alley to catch their breaths.

"That was some date night," Ian pants, hands on knees and a wide grin on his face.

"Night ain't over yet," Mickey disagrees. He pushes off the brick wall he had leaned against, motions back to the street with the arm not holding what he pilfered from the restaurant kitchen. "C'mon, man, we got somewhere to be."

Then he's off again, albeit at a more sedate pace, and Ian laughs again as he follows. He catches up with a few long strides and grabs Mickey's hand, letting his husband lead him once again.

This time, they wander farther, only stopping when they come to a park with overly green grass and a neatly manicured baseball diamond.

It isn't their field, the one with the dugout they used to frequent; that field is back Southside, and they haven't walked that far. But it's close, and Ian's heart pounds as Mickey leads him around the open fencing and toward the outfield.

They stop at the greenest point, and Mickey releases Ian's hand to throw down his stolen tablecloth, kicking the edges until it's more or less flat and open. He plops down immediately, just off center, and motions for Ian to do the same as he uses his pocket knife to uncork the stolen bottle of booze.

Ian sits as Mickey takes a swig of the mystery liqour, then accepts the bottle when he passes it over.

"This is nice," he says after a long sip of what turned out to be a moderately pleasant red. "How did you know it was here?"

Mickey reaches for the bottle again, taking another swallow before he answered. "Was helping Debs look at schools," he admits. "For Franny, when she's older."

Ian doesn't press. He loves how much Mickey dotes on their niece, but he knows talking about it makes him uncomfortable still, their own future hanging over them.

He lays down instead, and looks up. The stars are out, glittering above them in patterns he doesn't understand, but thinks must mean something good.

"Thanks for tonight," he says softly to the sky.

The tablecloth rustles as Mickey leans on his elbows next to him.

"Anytime," he replies. He looks down at Ian, and turns on his side so he can brush red hair back from his face.

"Gonna tell me why you were so upset, earlier?" he questions, voice light but serious. "Not like you to freak out like that."

Ian nuzzles into the hand on his face, and closes his eyes. "Just wanted to do something for you," he admits. "You were so excited about finding that place. And you're always doing stuff like that for me."

His eyes flutter open again, fixing on Mickey's face. "Figures the first time I try, everything goes wrong and you have to take over again."

Mickey doesn't respond right away. He watches him, thumb stroking his cheekbone, hand curling around behind his ear.

When he does speak, it's quiet. "I like doin' that shit for you, Ian," he says. "Makes me...happy. To see you smilin'."

Ian's lips stretch into a gentle curve, and Mickey returns it. "Yeah," he whispers, leaning down until their noses brush. "Like that," he finishes, the words lost against Ian's lips as they kiss.

Ian doesn't know how long they stay there, laying on that thin piece of fabric over the grass, making out under the stars. He doesn't care. Because it's Mickey. And despite everything that went wrong tonight, being there with Mickey was perfect.

They're eventually interuppted by what feels like rain, but turns out a second later to be the timed sprinkler system switching on. Mickey yelps into his mouth at the cold water as they break apart, scrambling to dash across the field and to the relative safety of the sidewalk. They leave the tablecloth where it is, a sad heap if fabric wet with water and remainder of their overturned bottle of red wine, and fall against each other as they turn to head toward home.

"Still wanna thank me?" Mickey jokes on the way, teeth chattering as his skin dries.

"Yeah, I do," Ian says, nudging him with a hip before pulling him back, wrapping a long warm arm around his shoulders.

"Tonight was perfect."

And if they stop again to kiss against under the L on their way, Mickey's back pressed to the support and legs hugging Ian's waist, well. It is still their night, after all.

#writing at work while I wait on things #so if there are weird autocorrects please ignore them #that's also why it's long and rambly😅#daily speedwrite #gallavich #mickey milkovich #fanfic #ian gallagher #mickey saves date night

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breakyeol · 3 years

Text

— WHAT HE LOST

So you got dumped. It sucks, but hey, at least you’ve got your best friends who always seem know exactly what to do to help make you feel better.

┗ Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader x Baekhyun

Genre: friends to lovers au, angst, fluff, smut

Words: 12.8k (I wish I was kidding)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, drinking, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of cheating, explicit sexual content ; dom(?)baekhyun, switch sub!chanyeol, switch!reader, their roles ended up being very blurred, you’re the bologna in a chanbaek sandwich, threesome, very mild dirty talk, teasing, oral (f. & m. receiving), gentle throat fucking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, squirting, yeol just wants to be a good boy but baek just wants to break the headboard

A/N; the poll I did for this fanfic was so fun!!! I seriously love interacted with you guys and receiving your feedback! I definitely think it’s something I’d like to do again in the future! I hope you guys enjoy the results! PS, I low key suck at writing endings sorry loves.

It’s half past two when you show up in front of their door, clothes soaked and heavy from the rain you hadn’t bothered to shield yourself from, heart bruised and aching from the ruthless beat down it had been forced to endure. It’s been a really long night.

Chanyeol is the one to finally open the door, face flushed and swollen, pink lips dry and pouted, dark hair unruly and disheveled with a ridiculous cowlick you would find incredibly amusing if not for the crushing weight of the night’s previous events still weighing heavily on your chest.

“Y/n?” He rasps, blinking hard twice, as if he hadn’t recognized you at first. You wouldn’t hold it against him, you probably look like a drowned rat in your current state.

A shaky grin pulls at your lips, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Hey, Yeol.”

His brows furrow and he swipes a large hand down the length of his face. “What time is it? What– what are you doing here?” There’s no malice in the question, only drowsy confusion as he tries to put the puzzle pieces together in his sleep hazed mind.

Instead of answering, you tip your chin forward and ask one of your own. “Mind if I come in? It feels like my fingers are about to fall off.”

All of a sudden his eyes pop open real wide and he gasps, as if just then realizing that you were standing outside his door in the freezing night air, drenched to the bone. He immediately ushers you inside, appearing genuinely distraught. “Jesus, you’re soaked. Did you walk here or something?”

Combing your wet hair out of your face, you offer a blunt nod of confirmation. “Yup.”

His jaw drops and he splutters in disbelief. “You walked here? In the pouring rain? Are you insane?! It’s the middle of the night! Something terrible could have happened to you! And you’re not even wearing a coat!” He gestures wildly at your waterlogged t-shirt and jeans, all drowsiness gone from his eyes.

“I’m fine, Chanyeol.” You sigh, moving past him and into the warmth of his apartment.

“Y/n, that really wasn’t smart. You should’ve called me.” He insists in that disapproving tone that reminds you of a parent scolding a petulant child.

You turn to him with raised brows, the vague outline of amusement tinging your words, “Would you have woken up?”

“You should’ve called until I did,” he shoots back without missing a beat, following close on your heel as you make your way into the living room and fall onto the couch with a soft grunt, “or you could’ve tried Baekhyun. Or literally done anything other than walk all the way here in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.”

He’s right, of course. It was dangerous walking alone at night, no matter how tough you think you are, bad things can happen to anyone. But the danger of walking the streets at night hadn’t been so much as a second thought when you left. There were far more prominent concerns plaguing your mind.

“Yeah, well.”

A beat of silence passes, and you feel the shift in Chanyeol’s gaze. You don’t dare to look over as he sinks into the space on the couch beside you, though all you really want is to lean into the comforting warmth of his body.

“Hey... are you alright?”

A painful lump forms in your throat at the question. “I—” you wince as your voice cracks, words falling dead on the tip of your tongue. Fuck. Why was it so hard to say?

“Y/n?”

The way he says your name nearly shatters the dam, and you just barely manage to pull yourself together enough to avoid turning into a sobbing mess on his couch. Snagging your lower lip roughly between your teeth, you offer a weak hum that pitches strangely in your throat– which most definitely does not go unnoticed by the boy who knows you too well for your own good.

Chanyeol’s concerned eyes sweep over your expression, those damn eyes that can see right through any mask you attempt to wear, before he speaks again in a voice so soft you could feel the steely grip around your heart ease. “Let me get you something dry to wear. Then we can make some hot cocoa and you can tell me what happened, okay?”

The idea of being dry and warm again was more than appealing enough for you to force the corners of your lips upward and manage a light nod of agreement. “Yeah.”

He shoots you a sweet smile, reaching over with a large hand to affectionately ruffle your wet hair and pushing himself off of the couch before you can retaliate. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move, I don’t need you and all your drippiness flooding the apartment. I’m pretty sure you’ve already ruined our new couch.” He teases lightheartedly, that familiar bubbling laughter erupting from his lips as you swing your middle finger up at him.

You feel yourself deflate somewhat when he vanishes into his bedroom, leaving you alone once more. It was unusually quiet. Though understandable given the time, you aren’t used to the silence of the apartment and find yourself craving Chanyeol’s booming voice and Baekhyun’s obnoxious teasing. Without them, there’s nothing to distract your scrambled mind, and you can’t stop it from lingering on the frustration and sense of betrayal that torments your heart. Squeezing your eyes shut, you sink into the plush cushions, a soft groan escaping your tensed lips.

This. Sucks.

Luckily, you aren’t alone long enough to dwell on it too deeply.

Your head snaps up at the sound of a door thudding shut, a murmur of gratitude on the tip of your tongue, but you are surprised to see a very much still half asleep Baekhyun come stumbling into the living room, donning a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tight white t-shirt that hugs the gentle swells of his chest. His eyes are barely open as he all but throws himself onto the couch, immediately curling up into your side. You only chuckle, nuzzling your nose into his cinnamon scented hair and petting down his unruly bed head as it tickles your chin.

“You’re wet.” Is the first thing he murmurs into the silence, voice thick and hoarse in his throat. You can’t suppress the shiver that ripples down the length of your spine as his warm breath washes over your icy skin, the sharp contrast in temperature startling to your senses.

“I didn’t notice.” You hum, resting your cheek against the top of his head.

“And cold.” He grumbles additionally, arms coiling tightly around the curve of your waist and tugging you flush against him. The heat of his body is more than welcome, and you’re happy to allow him to cuddle into you. It’s easy to find comfort in his familiar embrace.

“Chanyeol is getting me something else to wear.”

His head tips back at that, and you have to draw away to keep your noses from colliding. Hooded eyes drag slowly over your face, warm and searching. You swallow nervously under the intensity of his scrutinizing gaze and quickly turn away, hoping he hadn’t seen the tell tale signs of your internal turmoil. But it seems both of your best friends are more observant than you give them credit for.

You jolt in surprise as he suddenly grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to face him again. The unexpected proximity has warmth rushing into your cheeks, and you clear your throat, eyes looking anywhere but his face. Nonetheless he still manages to read you like the pages of a children’s book.

“You’ve been crying.”

Instinctively, you try to put some distance between you and him, swatting his hand away and plastering an unconvincing scowl across your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His lips part, and you brace yourself, knowing by the look on his face alone that he’s going to push the matter.

“Ah, Baekhyun, you’re awake.” You let out a breath of relief as Chanyeol steps out of his room, a set of black sweats and a towel draped over his arm. Perfect timing. Baekhyun nearly topples over as you jump up from the couch, quickly making your way over to where the younger boy stands. “Y/n, I got y—”

“Thanks, I’ll go change.” You rush out, cutting him off abruptly as you pull the clothes from his arms. You manage a quick smile of gratitude before you’re hurrying past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door more harshly than you intended behind you.

Very subtle, y/n.

“Fuck.” You hiss through clenched teeth, silently cursing yourself out.

Moving towards the sink, you stare at your disheveled reflection in the mirror with a weak grimace. You knew you looked like a mess but damn. You really look like you’ve been put through the wringer tonight. Which, of course, you kind of had been, but still.

It takes longer than you anticipated to wriggle yourself out of your wet clothes, nearly falling on your ass more times than you care to admit out loud in your numerous attempts to peel off your jeans. But in the end, it was more than worth it to feel the soft, warm fabric of Chanyeol’s oversized clothes against your skin. The faded scent of his aftershave eases the tension in your shoulders, but you can’t fight the buzz of nerves that come to life in your stomach as you step back out the door.

The rich, sweet scent of hot chocolate is the first thing to greet you upon your return. Noting the emptiness of the living room, you come to the quick conclusion that they’re both most likely in the kitchen. On quiet feet, you shuffle over to the entrance, peeking your head around the wall. They’re facing away from you, leaning against the island and exchanging whispered words, voices just low enough that you can’t make out what they’re saying. Though, there’s little doubt in your mind that you’re the subject of their heated conversation.

Deciding to make your presence known, you clear your throat and step onto the cool tile. Two heads whip in your direction, startled. The looks on either of their faces makes you think of two children being caught doing something they definitely should not be. Exactly... what had they been talking about?

Chanyeol is the first to move, plucking up the mug from the countertop and making his way over to you. “Extra marshmallows and extra whipped cream with a pinch of cinnamon,” he says, a soft smile on his lips and a warm blush on his cheeks, “just how you like it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, grateful for the warmth of the smooth white ceramic against your palms. “Thanks, yeol.”

“Let’s sit!” Baekhyun exclaims before you can even take a sip, hands finding your shoulders and steering you back towards the couch. You’re too focused on not spilling the contents of your cup to make any sort of objection.

It’s only when squeezed between their two bodies on their slightly too small couch, their concerned but curious eyes burning into the sides of your face, that you begin to wonder if it was the wisest idea to come here. But then remember just how badly you were craving a good hug and sigh, knowing if anyone was gonna give you one, it’d be one of these two dopey boys.

It’s obvious neither of them are going to speak first, probably not wanting to push you incase you weren’t ready to talk about it yet (though, the intensity of their stares were doing just that), so you decide to take the initiative before the awkward tension can get even more unbearable.

“We broke up.”

You bring the mug to your lips, taking a tentative sip of your gradually cooling hot chocolate as you allow them to absorb the new information.

“Well, shit.” Baekhyun coughs. Chanyeol reaches behind you to smack the back of his head, hissing something about being insensitive but you’re already more than aware of how they feel about your boyfriend— ex-boyfriend.

Since you first started talking to him, neither of the boys were his biggest fan. To their credit, they tried their best to be supportive, but it was hard to miss the dampening of the mood whenever you brought him up and the glares they’d shoot in his direction when they thought you weren’t paying attention. You called them out on their passive aggressive behavior on a number of occasions, and they were always quick to defend themselves with the claim of getting ‘bad vibes’.

Looking back, you probably should’ve given their suspicions some deeper consideration.

But you had just liked him so much. It was hard for you to see past the handsome, charming exterior to what really laid beneath. Gilded boys had always been your weakness, always enchanting you with the prettiest of lies only to shatter you with their ugly truths.

You should have known better.

“Are you alright?”

You shrug, sucking your lower lip into your mouth with a heavy exhale from your nose. “I’m fine, really. I’m just... embarrassed, I guess.”

Baekhyun blinks at you in confusion. “Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed? He should be the embarrassed one for losing someone as amazing as you.”

“I’m embarrassed because—” you wince, bracing yourself for the response that you just know you’re about to receive, “because he dumped me.”

“What?!” Chanyeol erupts, nearly making you spill your hot cocoa from the sheer explosiveness of his reaction, “you let that literal piece of walking human trash—!”

“Chanyeol.”

At Baekhyun’s sharp interruption, the emotional younger immediately slumps, guilt painting his face as he looks at you with remorseful eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You only smile, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

“So,” Baekhyun begins cautiously, “what happened?”

No point beating around the bush now. “We were hanging out at his place. I found a pair of underwear that weren’t mine in his bedroom. Confronted him. He called me a clingy bitch and told me to get the fuck out and never come back.” You say this as nonchalantly as you can manage, but your hold on the cup tightens substantially and an unmistakable thickness rises in your throat. You curse yourself silently for feeling like shit over a guy who obviously couldn’t be bothered to give even half a shit about you.

“He cheated on you?” Chanyeol leaps up from the couch, eyes wide and furious. If you were to look close enough, you were almost certain you’d see fire burning within them.

“That fucker.” Baekhyun all but snarls, hands balling into tight fists. “What’s his address?”

“Baekhyun—” you sigh, leaning forward to set your hot chocolate down on the coffee table.

“No, I’m dead serious, what’s his address?” He pins you with a look that tells you he is very much not messing around. They were being ridiculous, angry over things they couldn’t change. It was pointless and harmful to dwell on things that had already happened. You’d much rather pick yourself up and move on than allow yourself to keep hurting over a stupid boy.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. And your best friends are not the types to just let things go. Not when the people they care about are wronged.

Chanyeol seems to be off in his own little world, ranting furiously to himself while cracking his knuckles in a way that is probably meant to be intimidating (though, to you, the giant puppy is anything but). “There’s no way I’m letting a piece of shit like him get away with this. God, I knew he was a scumbag the moment I laid eyes in him. I should’ve—”

“Guys, please.” Your voice cracks when you finally intervene, and that’s all it takes for their immediate anger to fizzle out.

The tension in their shoulders melts, their features softening drastically as they spot the glistening of tears in your eyes despite your feeble attempts to blink them away. In an instant, they’re cuddling back up against you, murmuring soft apologies and pleading for you not to cry over someone like him. But the dam is already broken, and salty tears are swelling up in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Everything you’d been holding back comes bubbling violently towards the surface. Sobs wrack your chest, and you cling onto the hands of either boy as they watch you helplessly.

Chanyeol, the big softie that he is, has to bite his lip to keep the tears threatening to swell in his own eyes at bay. He’s never been good at holding himself together when he sees you hurting. He feels everything with his entire being, his empathy for his friends and the people he cares about on another level. But that big, stupid heart of his is one of the many reasons you adore him.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, is not the most suave when it comes to comforting people. Most of the time he’ll try to crack jokes and make light of the situation, but he knew better than to break out his usual antics when you were in such a state. So he held his tongue, opting to wrap his hand around yours in hopes of comforting you in even the slightest.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You groan once your sobs subside into sniffles and you feel the warm flush of embarrassment filtering into your cheeks at your own outburst. You really hated crying in front of people. So it wasn’t too often that your friends, or anybody for that matter, saw such a raw display from you. “It’s just so frustrating and humiliating, you know?”

There’s a moment of silence as you wipe the tears from your face with the hand not held in a death grip by Baekhyun. It’s the nice kind of silence though, the kind you don’t have to fill and don’t really want to, encasing the three of you in a little bubble of comfort. Of course, with these two, you can’t expect it to last long.

“If I ever see him again,” Chanyeol huffs, dropping his chin onto your shoulder, “it’s on sight.”

You laugh at that, the sound hoarse and nasally and just plain awful, but genuine nonetheless. Raising a hand, you comb it through his soft black locks in a show of gratitude.

“Baek?” You turn to him with a sniffle. He hums softly in acknowledgement, tracing comforting circles against the top of your hand. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“What? Is my hot cocoa not good enough for you?” He teases light-heartedly and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“It’s delicious. But I was thinking of something… a little stronger.”

A mischievous grin upturns the corners of his lips as he realizes what you’re suggesting. “I’ve got just what you need.”

“You know what, FUCK MEN. They’re all stupid. Who needs ‘em? Not me.”

“Yeah men are assholes!” Baekhyun agrees loudly, thrusting his empty shot glass in the air, before pausing and reconsidering his words. “Wait, I’m a man.”

“You and Yeol are the only exceptions.” You reassure, slapping your hand down on his shoulder. He grins widely at that, satisfied. “But every other man— they can all suck my dick,” you continue your tirade, swinging your hands around animatedly, “they’re all liars and cheats and idiots and I’ve had enough of they’re bullshit to last three lifetimes.”

Chanyeol giggles softly from where he’s situated on the floor between your legs which are draped lazily over either of his broad shoulders, his head resting on your thigh, obviously amused by your tipsy antics.

The first shot went down hard, more bitter than your resentment for your piece of shit ex-boyfriend. The second soothed the ache in your chest and allowed for the tension in your muscles to gradually ebb away. And the third? Well, you opted to take your time sipping on that one, not wanting to completely lose yourself in the intoxicating buzz.

You were never the biggest drinker, but sometimes a few shots of something a little stronger than beer helps take the edge off. Right now seems as good a time as any for some liquid courage.

“You wanna know the worst part?”

However, one of the biggest reasons you erred on the side of caution around alcohol was because you had a tendency to spill things that didn’t necessarily need to be exposed. Especially not to your tipsy best friends at three in the morning when emotions ran high and couldn’t be easily stifled.

“What?” Baekhyun leans closer, eyes wide and burning with curiosity at the sudden somberness of your voice. Chanyeol tilts his head back at the shift in tone, looking up at you through dark lashes.

“In the three years we were together,” the two boys strain their ears as your voice drops into a careful whisper, as if someone other than them was around to hear the secret you hadn’t dared to share with a single soul up until this point, “he only ate me out once.”

For a moment, you think the disbelief that flashes across their faces is because you’ve brought up something of a sexual nature. But that thought is quickly squashed.

“Once? In three years? Is he insane?!”

“Shows what kind of man he really is.” Baekhyun scoffs, clicking his tongue. “Did you go down on him?”

You nod in reluctant confirmation, still sober enough to feel the slightest pinch of shame at your admission.

“That’s not how it works! Sex is about give and take, balance,” Chanyeol enunciates the word carefully, and you can’t help the upward twitch of your lips at the seriousness of his expression and the passion behind his words, “You can’t just receive without giving anything back!”

“He said he didn’t like it. And he only did it that one time because we fought on my birthday two years ago and he felt bad.” You explain, pouting heavily as you recall all the times he refused to go down on you.

Baekhyun blanches, jaw dropping. “You haven’t been eaten out in two years? Oh, baby...” you can feel the empathy rolling off of them in thick waves as they allow the new information to really sink in.

“I know, I know! Please don’t make me think about it anymore.” You whine distraughtly, rubbing your hands roughly down your face as frustration and annoyance bubble up inside of you. “I’m already pent up enough as is. That selfish bastard— he couldn’t even make up for it with his stupid dick either. He was all talk when it came to things like that. He only ever cared about getting himself off. It didn’t matter if I felt good as long as he could get his dick wet. What bullshit! Do you even know how many orgasms I had to fake?!”

Everything you’d kept inside comes exploding out of you in a rush of fiery passion, refusing to remain bottled up for even a moment longer. But of course, the moment it’s out and unable to be taken back, you regret saying anything about it at all. Red hot embarrassment floods your senses and you sink in on yourself, slapping a hand over your offending lips.

Damnit. You really shouldn’t have taken that third shot.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. That was— I shouldn’t have—” you attempt to backtrack, mouth twisted into a grimace.

There’s an exchange of glances that you don’t see, too wrapped up in your own humiliation to notice.

Then, a gentle hand slides over your thigh and you jolt in surprise, head snapping up to find a very serious Baekhyun looking back at you. You’d never seen this kind of expression on his face before. It was different then his usual playful grin or teasing smirk. Darker, somehow... dangerous. Like he was looking right through you and seeing everything you’d kept so carefully bottled up inside. It incites within you a vulnerability you had long forgotten.

“When was the last time you came?”

The question catches you off guard, to say the very least.

“Shit, i-it’s not like I keep track.” You laugh weakly, trying not to focus on the warmth seeping into your lower belly or the proximity of their bodies. But then his fingers are feathering over the curve of your knee and your heart is picking up speed and you’re left wondering at which point this conversation took such a turn.

Between your legs, Chanyeol shifts and your gaze snap down just in time to see him turn to face you fully, something dark and unfamiliar stirring within those big brown eyes. On instinct, you try to close your legs, but the sheer largeness of his body nestled comfortably between them prevents you from doing anything of the sort.

There’s no ignoring the rush of heat that ignites in your core, the closeness too much for your body to process all at once, only fueled by the long neglected desire for some kind of release.

And the fact that all he needed to do was get just a little bit closer—

But those are most definitely not the types of thoughts you should be having about your best friends. No matter how attractive they are. No matter how good Baekhyun’s pretty hand feels, slowly edging it’s way higher and higher up your thigh. No matter how cute the look on Chanyeol’s face is, a searing blush turning his full cheeks a fiery shade of red that easily consumes the entirety of his handsome face.

Fuck. Why was he looking at you like that?

“Y/n…”

Oh god. Why did your name have to sound like that coming from his lips?

Baekhyun’s fingers find your chin, gently coaxing your attention away from the man kneeling before you and back onto him. Your breathing has become shallow and fast, the insufficient amount of oxygen making you feel somewhat lightheaded. But the sensation is not a wholly unwelcome one. Not when his own smooth, liquor stained breath is like ambrosia on your tongue— heavy and rich and dangerously tempting.

“That piece of shit couldn’t make you feel good, could he?”

“No.” You swallow around the word, willing your treacherous eyes away from the entrancing curve of his pink mouth.

“No…” he repeats softly, tracing his thumb lightly over the flesh of your lower lip, “but I can— we can.” He lowers his gaze, tempting yours to follow as he ticks a brow at the younger boy. “… can’t we, Chanyeol?”

“Yes.” Chanyeol breathes without a moment’s hesitation, nuzzling his nose against the inside of your knee, warm fingertips teasing the cool skin of your ankles before he’s quickly amending, “if it’s what you want.”

Baekhyun’s lips feather over the shell of your burning ear and you feel consumed.

“Do you want it?”

“This is crazy.” It’s a deliberate avoidance of the question and you both know it.

He cocks his head, the corner of his lip curling into a teasing little grin that makes you feel like he can read your mind. “Is it?”

Yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue. But you would be a dirty, filthy liar if you said it had never crossed your mind.

The thought of you and them.

Usually one... sometimes both.

But those had just been fleeting fantasies when nothing else could satiate the unrelenting heat in your belly, shameful fantasies that, for the most part, you kept locked up tight in the furthest corner of your mind and only let out at the darkest hour of the night, when the midnight winds carried away the trembling breaths of their names, a whispered secret shared only between you and the moon. Only then would you dare to bask in their phantom caresses, allow your mind to conjure up images of their faces, twisted in beautiful bliss.

It was a dangerous game you played, but god, it felt too good to be wrong.

Or maybe that was just you trying to rationalize getting off to the thought of your best friends.

After a few moments of you grappling for the right words, Baekhyun tentatively intervenes with the thick, tension-filled silence that had encased the space around you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. No pressure from us, sweetheart. I understand two at once can be a bit... intimidating.”

Though he started out in a tone that suggested reassurance and understanding, that last phrase, donning an underlying pitch of provocation, gives you pause.

“Are you suggesting you don’t think I could handle the two of you?” There’s a low scoff to your words, a spark of competitiveness that only Byun Baekhyun himself could draw out of you igniting in your stomach.

He smiles at you innocently, walking two fingers up the length of your thigh. “Not at all.” Something about the glint in his eye tells you that that is exactly what he was suggesting.

A light pout touches your lips and you lower your gaze to the man on the floor. “Chanyeol?”

You don’t need to elaborate for him to understand what you’re asking, that familiar boyish grin curling across his face as he props his chin on top of your knee.

“I think you could handle me just fine.”

A shiver ricochets down your spine at the divine way the words drip from his lips, thick and honey like, sensual in their suggestive nature. You hold his burning stare for a few moments longer than you probably should have, feeling yourself slowly being devoured by the dark, ravenous hunger that swirls within it. This was a fire you were not accustomed to seeing ablaze in Chanyeol. You were used to the fire of his competitiveness, the searing flame of his imperishable passion.

But this— this was something new all together.

If you were to touch him, you wonder if you would be able to feel the savage heat of it against your fingertips.

At your sides, your hands itch to find out. But a gentle tug at the string of your- er, Chanyeol’s sweatpants pulls your mind away from that specific thought. You can’t help the shaky gasp that catches in your throat at the sight of Baekhyun’s hands hovering dangerously close to your heat. You can only watch, melting into a puddle of pure need as he twirls the string nonchalantly around his beautiful fingers, slipping his two middle digits into one of the loops and proceeding to curl them in a way that made your mind jump to highly inappropriate possibilities.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

His teeth graze the shell of your ear and the wetness forming between your thighs increases tenfold as the smooth tenor of his voice thrums through your skull.

“I’d love for you to prove me wrong.”

You’re not sure who leaned in first. But the next thing you know, your lips are on his. There’s no time to dwell on the fact that you’re kissing your best friend, your mind rapidly growing hazy from the unexpected intensity. There’s a certain viciousness in his ministrations, a brutality to his lust that he breathes into your lungs and sends blazing through your veins. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

You can’t help the surprised moan that escapes you when he takes your tongue between his lips and sucks, a low content hum reverberating through his chest before he releases you with a lewd ‘pop’.

“Fuck,” he groans languidly, “You taste like chocolate, baby.”

Calloused hands are curling around your jaw before you can fully recuperate, drawing your attention away from Baekhyun just in time to see Chanyeol’s rapidly approaching face. His dark eyes are hooded and wanting, the faintest of pouts residing on his red-bitten mouth as he breathes in an almost whining tone, “I wanna taste.”

You can think of no reason to object.

His lips slip over yours with a gentleness that is almost staggering. Despite his impatience, there’s an underlying hesitance to his motions, an uncertainty that gives you the feeling that… he’s waiting for you to take the lead. And you do such with fervor.

Raising a hand, you slip gentle fingers up the length of his throat and give an experimental squeeze, not hard enough to do anything other than apply a bit of pressure, but just enough to get your message across.

I’m in charge.

The delighted moan he produces in response makes your lips curl devilishly.

But you’re not given the opportunity to relish in the hot rush of power long, a second pair of lips attaching to your throat making you waver. A hot tongue laves over your collarbone, followed by the sharp pressure of teeth and your jaw goes slack.

Did Baekhyun just bite you?

And… why didn’t you hate it?

Chanyeol takes your open mouth as an invitation, smoothly tilting his head and deepening the kiss. Fuck. He tastes like cinnamon and liquor, a combination you had no idea could be so addictive.

Mind dazed and sufficiently distracted, you don’t notice the hand slipping beneath the fabric of your sweats until a shock of pleasure bolts up your spine. You gasp, breaking the kiss as your eyes drop in order to see which of the two boys is the culprit. Baekhyun lets out a low groan, feathering gentle touches over the soaking fabric of your underwear.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby.” He growls dangerously in your ear. “We’ve barely even started. Are you already that excited?”

You shudder involuntarily, only managing a hoarse moan when he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. He chuckles tauntingly, as if you’ve just proved his point, but you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed with the way his skilled fingers are stroking your clothed heat.

The heaviness of Chanyeol’s gaze boring into you, devouring every detail of your blissed expression, only serves in making the sensations all the more intense. You attempt to grind yourself down into Baekhyun’s touch, seeking more friction, only to whimper in dismay as he withdraws completely, leaving you cold, unsatisfied, and aching for more.

“Baekhyun—”

“Take them off.” The abruptness of the command has your breath catching in your throat and a telling warmth fluttering through your core. You weren’t accustomed to hearing Baekhyun’s voice like this, so different from his usually light hearted teasing and playful jibes that it throws you for a moment. He cocks a brow amid your stunned silence, licking over the seam of his lip. “What? You need help?”

Snapping yourself out of it, you swing your gaze over to Chanyeol, offering him a cheeky, lopsided grin. “Can’t say I’d mind it.”

“I’m happy to lend a hand.” He hums, shooting you a playful wink that has a wide smile breaking across your face. He makes quick work of your borrowed sweats, easily tugging the loose fabric down the length of your legs and casting it aside carelessly. You watch the way his eyes flit greedily over the expense of your bare thighs, relishing the low, strained groan that flutters from his gaping lips when his attention fixes on the thin, black, lacy material that separates him from your soaking pussy.

“Those, too,” you instruct softly, sinking your teeth into the inside of your cheek. He swallows, and goes to reach for them, only to draw back abruptly when you swat his hands away with a sound of disapproval, “uh-uh. Do it with your teeth.”

Chanyeol’s breath hitches, a severe blush rushing into his cheeks.

Beside you, Baekhyun grins wildly. “That’s my girl.”

You smirk to yourself at the praise, but don’t remove your eyes from Chanyeol’s for a single moment, absolutely loving the pretty shade of red his handsome face has taken on.

Slowly, he dips his head, not daring to break your gaze as he latches his teeth onto the thin black lace on your underwear and begins to drag them down the length of your legs. Goosebumps erupt across your skin, soothed by the press of his hot palms as they trail his descent down your thighs, over the curves of your knees, down your calves, until you are left bare and exposed before them.

Fuck. That was so hot.

“Cute, isn’t he?” Baekhyun hums playfully against your jaw, like the whisper of the devil in your ear. You let out a trembling breath as the younger boy presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, nodding with an airy sigh of ‘ so cute’. Baekhyun nips at the juncture of your throat, and you can only watch with bated breath as he reaches a hand between your thigh, dragging his long middle finger through your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Want your sweet Chanyeollie to eat your pretty cunt, baby? Hm? Want him to make you feel good?”

Your chest rises rapidly, fast, shallow breaths swirling into your lungs. His filthy words curl beneath your nose, thrumming in your ears, intoxicating and disorienting in their deadly temptation. Desperation tugs at every nerve in your body and your hips buck and roll, chasing his caress. Want pools, dark and heavy, in Chanyeol’s hooded eyes as he watches his friend’s teasing ministrations. He licks his lips, full and pink and glistening in the low light of their apartment and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Fuck yes.” The words are nothing less than a growl in the back of your throat, a sound you never thought yourself capable of producing.

Baekhyun suddenly reaches forward, weaving his fingers through Chanyeol’s thick hair and tugging him forward. The younger gives no resistance, bracing his hands on your lower thighs as he allows himself to be guided to you. His lips part, tongue peeking out, and your anticipation skyrockets. But then he stops just short, and all you’re left with is the faint caress of his warm breath to soothe the insatiable ache between your hips. You almost whimper.

Chanyeol’s nostrils flare, eyes sharpening in annoyance as he shoots a glare up in Baekhyun’s direction. He only grins and arches a brow. “What? You’re not gonna ask for it first? Where are your manners, Yeol?” He gasps mockingly, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You don’t expect Chanyeol to give in at first, not with how competitive he could be and especially not with Baekhyun acting so damn condescending. But then he does, and you forget how to breathe.

“Please, y/n,” he pants hotly against your skin, “I wanna taste you so bad. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good. Please. Fuck, please.” A low, needy groan trembles in the back of his throat, clinging to that last ravenous plea. He snags his lower lip between his teeth and you feel yourself throb. The man looks down right sinful, Baekhyun still clutching onto his inky locks, forcing a slight strain in his neck as he looks up at you with those damn eyes that make your stomach churn and your mind spin.

God, he’s so beautiful.

Overwhelmed with the need to touch him, you nudge Baekhyun’s hand out of the way and replace it with your own, immediately loving the feeling of Chanyeol’s soft hair sliding between your fingers. His eyes flutter under the gentleness of your grip, lips parting as he breathes a delicate sigh, gazing up at you expectantly.

“Come here, Yeolie.”

He’s more than happy to comply.

The first stroke of his tongue sends sparks of electricity shooting through your entire body, a silent gasp shaping your lips. He looks up at you through dark lashes, encouraged and invigorated by your responsiveness to him, licking eagerly at your cunt. Soft moans flutter through his chest, and you shiver at the faint vibrations that are sent pulsing through you.

“Fuck, Chan,” you hiss, rocking your hips forward when he laves over your clit. The friction makes your skin tremble, a dangerous heat rising beneath it. If you knew he was this good with his mouth, you would have jumped his bones a whole lot sooner.

Another moan builds in your chest, but it’s abruptly stifled when Baekhyun tangles a hand into your hair and pulls you into a kiss that doesn’t fail to knock the air out of your lungs. Having both of their mouths on you makes your head spin and you can’t decide which to focus on. You’ve never been with more than one person at the time and it’s slightly overwhelming to suddenly have two men— two gorgeous men at that, both eager and willing to give you more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced.

Warm fingers suddenly slip beneath the thick fabric of your sweatshirt, and you shiver as they glide over your skin, light and teasing in advance towards your chest. A tremor wracks your spine when he pinches a nipple, squeezing his digits around the shape of your breast. Your back arches unconsciously, and you feel him smirk. Distracted, you don’t feel the burn of Chanyeol’s impatient glare until his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Yelping in shock, you snap your gaze back down to the younger boy, disbelief coloring your features. He has the audacity to smirk at you, cocking a brow in a manner that has a mixture of annoyance and arousal flaring up in your gut. Any glimmer of smug accomplishment is quickly washed from his face when your hand shoots down and roughly grips the hair on the back of his head, yanking him upwards until your nose to nose.

“Watch your teeth, Yeolie.” You murmur darkly.

“Or what?” The corner of your mouth twitches at his gutsy response.

“Or I’ll make sure to edge you until you cry.”

His eyes widen at the threat and he swallows thickly. From your peripheral, you see the crotch of his grey sweatpants rise.

“Oh? But it looks like you’d like that.” A deep crimson flush rushes into his ears and tinges the tips of his ears and he lowers his eyes, unable to hold your mirthful gaze any longer. “I guess I’ll just have to think of a better punishment.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice comes out airy and desperate, the natural rasp making the knot in your stomach tighten, “I promise I’ll be good.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.” You search his blown pupils for any sign of dishonesty, but find only sincerity and intoxicating lust. Satisfied, you release your tight grip on his hair in favor of gently stroking your knuckles over his blushing cheek.

“Then be a good boy and show me what this pretty mouth,” you trace your thumb gently over the soft, pink flesh of his lower lip, “can really do.”

The moment he’s released from your entrancing gaze, his mouth is on you again, eating you out with a fervor you’ve never before experienced. Your hips buck against him, your head tipping back as you let out rasping groans.

“Fuck, Yeol. That’s it, baby. Good boy.” He moans against you as spill praise after praise, lapping hungrily at your soaking pussy.

“That was so fucking sexy.” Baekhyun growls roughly, kissing you hard once before he’s pulling away to speak again. “Watching you boss him around, take control like that…” his voice drawls into a low groan, “really does something to me.”

“Yeah?” You ask shakily, mind whirling as Chanyeol buries his tongue inside of you. Baekhyun grins, humming lightly in confirmation. “Maybe you should let me boss you around, too.”

“Not a chance.” He chuckles. “Maybe next time. But tonight…” your mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing ever so gently, “your mine, sweetheart.”

Next time. He said next time.

There’s going to be a next time.

The amount of joy you receive from those two simple words borders on irrational.

“I— oh fuck!” You can only cry out in bliss as Chanyeol wraps his lips around your clit, sucking roughly. Your hips jerk and grind, moving on their own accord as he draws you closer and closer to your high. God, you’re so close you can taste it. Your trembling hands find purchase in his hair once more, desperate to hold onto something as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

“You gonna cum all over Yeolie’s tongue, baby? You gonna cum for us?” Baekhyun coos encouragingly against your jaw, and you can only whimper and nod frantically, unable to speak when Chanyeol sinks a long finger into your wet cunt, fucking you skillfully with his digit while he focuses his mouth on abusing your throbbing clit until your reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess on their living room couch.

“Yes— oh god, yes.”

When the coil snaps, it snaps hard. You can only manage a strangled whimper when it crashes over you. How long had it been since you last come on something other than your own hand? Weeks? Months? You can’t recall. But honestly how much does it really matter when your best friend’s face is nestled snug between your thighs?

The muscles of your legs seize and tremble beneath the force of your release, only held open by Chanyeol’s strong hands. He is unrelenting even as you come undone around him, tongue rolling over your clit, finger curling against your walls as his heady, hooded eyes devour you. You only manage to get him to detach him from you when you give a weak tug at his hair, the post-orgasm sensitivity proving too much for your body to handle.

“F– fuck.” You shiver, panting as tendrils of residual pleasure lick at your senses, the cold phantom of his tongue making you clench around nothing but empty air is pathetic greed. “Fuck, come here.”

Chanyeol is quick to rise onto his knees, obedient as ever, letting out a soft gasp of surprise as you cup his face and draw him into a heated kiss. He melts into you, large hands finding purchase on your thighs (which are still shaking) and caressing them soothingly.

“Thank you,” you breathe against his mouth, “thank you. Thank you.”

You feel him smiling as you continue to express your gratitude in gentle words spoken between deep, passionate kisses and it’s not long before his smile turns into something wide and toothy and uncontainable and he’s bursting into a fit of giggles as you resort to peppering the rest of his face in playful kisses.

“Easy now, sweetheart. Save the aftercare for when we’re done, yeah?” Baekhyun’s lilting hum draws your attention, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“We’re not done?”

His brows jump, that familiar lopsided smirk offsetting his pretty lips. “Are you kidding me? We’ve got two years worth of orgasms to make up for. We’re nowhere near finished.” A shiver of excitement ricochets down your spine at the promise laced into his words, and you have to bite your lip to keep a wide grin at bay.

Suddenly, Baekhyun rises from the couch and it’s with immense effort that you refrain from staring directly at the prominent bulge straining against the thin fabric of his plaid pajama pants. Swallowing thickly, you look up at him as he extends a hand. “Come on. The bedroom is much more comfortable to get your brains fucked out in. Speaking from experience.” You scoff at the sleazy smirk he shoots you, but slide your hand into his nonetheless.

The moment you’re on your feet, your knees buckle and you nearly topple. Luckily for you, Chanyeol has remarkable reflexes (when it counts) and catches you by the waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Shit, Yeol. You really did a number on her.” Baekhyun remarks teasingly. A feverish blush rises up your neck and you shoot him a glare.

“Shut up.”

He bites the corner of his lip, gives you a heated once over that leaves your skin burning and trembling, before spinning on his heels sauntering in the direction of his bedroom door. He stops in the frame for a brief moment and shoots you a sultry wink from over his shoulder. “Come make me.”

Fuck.

Chanyeol let’s out a yelp of surprise as you lace your fingers through his and tug him hurriedly in the direction of his roommate’s bedroom. The very second that you’re through the door, lips connect with yours, stealing the very air from your lungs and obliterating any last remaining bit of your sanity. Hands seize your half naked body, eagerly exploring the expanse of your feverish skin. They tug at the hindering fabric of your sweatshirt, until all at once it is being pulled over your head and cast off carelessly somewhere in the darkness. You don’t even shiver, the heat of their bodies surrounding you and warding off the cool air.

Chanyeol takes the opportunity to slide a hand beneath your chin and tilt your head back so that it rests on his shoulder, the tip of his tongue flicking over your lips until they part, welcoming him in. Reaching back, you grab hold of his hips, tugging them forward and guiding them in a slow grinding motion against your ass. He moans hotly at the frictions, kiss turning sloppy as pleasure rushes through him.

You’re distinctly aware of the pressure of Baekhyun’s own mouth beginning a slow descent, starting from your jaw, gliding down the length of your throat, pausing to lick and suck at your sensitive nipples, kissing with a staggering tenderness over your belly. Then you hear his knees hit the floor. All at once, his tongue flattens against your clit, and you have to break away from Chanyeol as your body jolts violently in response. There’s still lingering sensitivity from your first orgasm, amplifying the pleasure tenfold.

And god, it’s so good.

“F– fuck, Baek—” your voice breaks off into a trembling whimper, hips bucking as he sinks a finger into your heat. Followed shortly thereafter by a second. Then a third. The stretch has you keening, leaning the full weight of your body against Chanyeol’s sturdy chest. He’s the only thing keeping you upright at the moment. Had you been left to your own devices, you would have already collapsed.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for us, baby.” Baekhyun hums with a lightness entirely unfitting for the current situation, nipping at the inside of your thigh. He supplies you with a slow, calculated thrust, biting his lip harshly as he watches your glistening arousal coat his digits. “Fucking hell, your soaking.”

You whimper shakily, head tipping back as Chanyeol nips and sucks at the juncture of your throat, his large hands gliding over the shape of your body as if he intends to commit it to memory— caressing every curve, fondling every edge, touching you, worshipping you with a reverence that pours into your very soul. You’ve never been touched like this before. Most men just think they have a right to you the second your clothes are off (some even before that). There’s no respect, no appreciation, nothing but dirty lust.

But this— this is different. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put into words. The way he’s touching you, like you’re a precious work of art, it makes you feel good. It makes you feel… beautiful. Something you rarely, if ever, felt when you were with your ex.

Baekhyun swirls his tongue around your clit and simultaneously curls his fingers, successfully stroking that long neglected bundle of nerves inside of you. The sensations it sets off inside of you are intense and overwhelming, and within seconds you’re coming for a second time. This orgasm comes completely unexpectedly and without any real warning outside of the breakneck explosion of pleasure that has stars scattering across your vision.

“Baek—!” you can only manage a broken yelp of his name as your body convulses above him, wracked and disoriented by the sudden, explosive burst of ecstasy. Now your shivering, trembling and gasping violently, but not from the cold. He watches in wonder as you unravel, clenching so tightly around his fingers that he can only begin to imagine what you’ll feel like coming around his cock. Shit, he can’t wait to be inside of you. He’s throbbing at the mere thought of it.

Chanyeol’s no better off, barely holding himself back from rutting against you like some kind of animal. But he wants to impress you, show you he has some semblance of self control even when it feels like he might burst in his pants at any given moment. He wants to be good for you. So for now, he can only watch with bated breath, painfully hard in his sweats, as your face contorts into an expression of pure bliss. God, you look so beautiful like this he almost can’t stand it. How could anyone let someone like you go?

“Holy f-fuck.” You whimper, attempting to catch your breath as your high begins to fade. Baekhyun has plastered a cocky grin across his face by the time you look down at him, though his eyes still sparkle with something indecipherable.

“That was a good one.” He says, carefully retracting his fingers from your heat as Chanyeol hums in agreement, nuzzling his nose behind your ear comfortingly when you shudder and whine at the emptiness. “We’re gonna break her at this rate.”

“Not a chance,” you interject firmly, albeit somewhat breathlessly, “I’m a lot tougher than you think.” It’s the truth, but the quiver in your voice begs to differ.

“So you can handle another one?” Baekhyun asks, rising to his full height.

You hold his fiery gaze. “I can handle anything you give me.”

Something in his eyes darkens. “Careful, sweetheart. You have… no idea the kind of filthy, depraved things I want to do to you.” His voice drops an octave, and, despite having already come twice (twice as many times as you were used to), your greedy cunt still throbs with need.

Boldly, you extend a hand, caressing over his clothed length, and feel a surge of pride when he inhales sharply, hard gaze faltering.

Leaning forward, you feather your lips over his, teasing. It’s a dangerous game you're playing, you know that. But you’re enjoying it far too much to stop now.

“Show me.”

Those two little words are all it takes to break Byun Baekhyun.

“Bed. Now.”

Perhaps you’re just a little too eager to comply, barely biting back a grin of excitement as you turn tail and scramble to his king sized bed.

The disheveled sheets welcome you into their embrace, still warm in the spot Baekhyun had occupied prior your unannounced visit. They smell of him, you notice, the coconut of his shampoo, the milk & honey of his body wash, the soft vanilla of his perfume. You recognize the latter as the bottle he “borrowed” from you a few months back and had yet to return. Not that you really mind. You secretly like the fact that he smells like you.

Chanyeol is first to round the side of the bed, ridding himself of his clothes along the way. Shirt first, then pants, and you can’t help but giggle as he hops clumsily out of his boxers, nearly bumping into the nightstand before he falls gracelessly onto the mattress beside you, offering up a sheepish grin.

“Sexy, aren’t I?” Sarcasm bleeds through his tone, embarrassment hot on his cheeks, though it’s quickly soothed as you draw him into a gentle kiss.

“Excruciatingly.” You enunciate teasingly, nipping at the tip of his nose.

The bed dips around your ankles, and you peer down to see a very primal looking Baekhyun crawling towards you, like a predator honing in on his prey. The carnal hunger pooling in his hooded eyes hits you straight in the chest, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

Slotting himself between your hips, you could easily make out every inch of his length resting against your stomach, hot and hard and throbbing. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone inside of you this badly. His head lowers to your throat and he sets your skin ablaze with open mouthed kisses. Chanyeol makes sure the opposite side of your neck isn’t neglected long, feeling the erratic pulsing of your carotid artery beneath the slow strokes of his tongue. Your head falls back into the pillows, a sigh fluttering from your lips as you’re bathed in their affections.

Baekhyun slips a hand beneath your knee, hooking it over his hip. Your lungs tremble with excitement when he slides his tip slowly through your wet folds.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you see stars.”

“I already have,” you smirk lazily in response, snagging the corner of your lip between your teeth, “Twice.”

He doesn’t seem discouraged, curving a hand around the shape of your jaw and feathering his mouth over yours as his eyes glint with something sinful and electrifying. “Then I’m gonna show you the goddamn galaxy.”

There’s no time to respond before his hips are rolling forward, filling you to the hilt with one smooth stroke. A breathless gasp trembles from his throat, “fuck.”

“Does she feel good?” The question that escapes Chanyeol is weak and needy, strained and rough, coming from somewhere deep in his chest. He almost sounds like he’s struggling, battling with himself internally as he watches his best friend’s cock disappear inside of our cunt with a lewd squelch. The searing heat of his gaze makes you whine in pathetic desperation, no longer unable to form coherent words to express your desire.

“Fucking Christ, Yeol. She’s so tight a-and wet— ah, fucking perfect.” Baekhyun’s shoulders arch, a tremor rippling down his spine as your walls constrict around him, squeezing so tightly he almost loses himself then and there. But he manages to hold back, bracing a hand on your hip as he pushes himself up right.

“Baek, please.”

There’s no need for elaboration. He knows exactly what you’re asking for. And hell, he’s more than happy to provide.

The first thrust of his hips has your back arching off of the mattress, mouth opening in silent bliss. The pace he sets is punishing, fast and deep and rough. His blunt nails dig harshly into the flesh of your hips, but you relish in it, pain and pleasure coming together to create the perfect cocktail. The lingering sensitivity from your two previous orgasms only serves to heighten the ecstasy that you're experiencing. And with Chanyeol pressed against your side, large, calloused hands and gentle lips making sure each and every inch of you is receiving attention, it doesn’t take long at all before you feel that coil in your stomach tightening.

“I’m not gonna last.” You moan weakly, clinging to Chanyeol like he’s your one and only lifeline.

“Fuck, come on, beautiful. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” Baekhyun growls, snapping his hips roughly into yours. You cry out desperately when Chanyeol trails a hand down your body, circling a careful finger around your clit.

“Oh god, please. Please, Yeol. Harder. Baek— fuck, please.” You’re on the verge of tears, muscles shuddering violently as the white hot pleasure pulses through your veins.

“Who are you begging, sweetheart?” Baekhyun grins down at you devilishly, licking at his teeth as his eyes glow with something dangerous and powerful. Your stomach whirls, and you nearly headbutt Chanyeol when your body lurches, entirely overwhelmed. It’s so much— too much— but, somehow, not enough.

Your legs squeeze around Baekhyun’s hips, heels pressing into the swells of his ass, urging him deeper as you implore him wordlessly for more. You want everything, however selfish that may sound. You want it all. Every last piece of him.

This time around, you’re more than grateful that he can read you so well.

Simultaneously, the two boys fiercen their ministrations: Baekhyun, fucking himself into you so hard that the headboard is slamming into the wall; Chanyeol, applying enough pressure to your sensitive clit that your sanity nearly flies out the window. Within seconds, entangled in the staggering heat of their bodies, you come undone.

Damn. Baekhyun wasn’t kidding about showing you the galaxy.

Never in your life have you experienced an orgasm like this. One that tears through your very being like a raging tsunami. You feel it rippling through every cell, igniting every nerve ending in fiery ecstasy.

Baekhyun is barely able to hold himself together as you unravel beneath him, his entire body trembling and sweating with the effort of fighting back his own high, which is threatening to break over him at any given second. The mere sight of you is almost enough to do him in, but he wants to make sure to ride you through yours before he allows himself even a taste of his own. Harder said than done when you look so good and feel ever better, clenching and pulsing around him and god he’s about to lose his fucking mind.

He’s panting and groaning, rolling his hips deeply into yours, keeping himself teetering dangerously on that edge. But it’s you, your voice whimpering his name, your fluttering, teary eyes barely able to keep themselves open looking up at him, that finally breaks him. He bucks into you sharply, hips spluttering, body shaking as he spills himself. It’s sudden and it’s messy and it’s the most goddamn beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

The moment he’s finished, he collapses on top of you, completely out of breath and red in the face; thoroughly fucked out. But that doesn’t stop him from bathing you in whispered praises.

“You’re so amazing. You did so well. You’re so beautiful.”

His words warm your heart, which is just barely beginning to return to a more natural rhythm. They lick the wounds from the nights previous events, soothe the ache that was long forgotten in the thralls of your best friends’ soothing touch.

Baekhyun pulls out of you carefully, and you have to physically stop yourself from pouting at the emptiness and loss of the weight and warmth of his body as he rolls off of you, flopping onto the mattress at your side with a huff of hazy laughter.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, a dopey smile plastered across his face as he tosses an arm over his eyes, “that was amazing.”

“So fucking amazing.” You emphasize, trying uselessly to catch your breath.

It’s only when you feel something nudging at your opposite hip that you're able to refocus your bleary mind on the unfinished task. You turn, finding the adorable scrunched face of Chanyeol, cheeks red, eyes wanting.

The younger boy chews on his lower lip, swallowing a groan. He’s trying his best not to come off as too desperate, but you see right through him. You see how hard he is, veins thick and throbbing beneath the angry red skin, his flushed tip weeping with precum. Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t touched himself yet. It looks like it hurts.

Licking your lips, you can’t help but to wonder what he might taste like, how he’d feel against your tongue, the kinds of sounds he’d make when his body was overwhelmed with pleasure. You bet he’s loud when he comes. Fuck, that deep, raspy voice would sound so good moaning your name.

… perhaps you are feeling just a little greedy.

“Yeol,” he snaps to attention at the wispy call of his name, inhaling sharply when your fingers graze his thigh, “come here.”

He blinks in confusion, not understanding what you want him to do. Recognizing the lost puppy dog look, you chuckle before elaborating in far more blunt terms to avoid further misunderstanding;

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

If he were to open his eyes any wider, you were certain they’d fall straight out of his head. “I– I can’t– you just—” he stutters clumsily, shaking his head, but you can feel his body practically trembling in excitement at the implication of your words.

“Please. You’ve been so good for me. I wanna make you feel good, too, baby.” You coo, tugging at his knee once more before leaning up to graze your lips over the shell of his flushed ear. “Let me make you feel good, Yeolie.”

He shivers violently, a strangled moan breaking from his swollen mouth, and you smirk to yourself, knowing you’ve got him. He seems nervous as he pushes himself up and crawls to kneel next to your head before hesitating, blinking as he tries to figure the right way to position himself.

He’s cute when he’s concentrating.

“Like this—” you chime in. Chanyeol gasps and flushes a deep red when you guide him forward until his knees are on either side of your head, his hard length swinging proudly above your nose.

Reaching up, you take his large hands in yours, interlacing your fingers. “If I tap on the back of your hand—” you demonstrate, “it means stop, okay? You have to stop immediately when I do that because I won’t be able to speak.”

He nods, expression serious, “I understand. I’ll stop if you tap on my hand.”

“Good,” you pause, a gentle smile upturning the corners of your mouth, “I trust you.”

His breath hitches. “Thank you.”

Instead of responding, you tip your chin up and trace your tongue over the underside of his cock. His hips stutter forward, a surprised moan escaping him at the unexpected contact.

“Stop teasing and feed her your cock, Chanyeol. Can’t you see how bad she wants it?” Baekhyun chuckles mockingly, sliding a lithe hand around your jaw and squeezing, forcing your mouth open even wider. Chanyeol looks down at you through blown pupils, chest heaving, lust practically radiating from his every pore. But it’s only when you offer a nod of reassurance and a look that you hope gives of even the faintest of glimpses into your immense desire for this, for him, does he finally move.

With a tenderness only Park Chanyeol could possess in a position such as this, he guides himself between your awaiting lips. You moan unabashedly as the bittersweet taste of him hits your tongue, tipping your chin up to make more of him in. A shuddering moan pulses from his chest, pitched and broken on red bitten lips. The sound is somehow even more beautiful than you imagined.

Languidly, you swirl your tongue around his weeping tip, eliciting a strained whisper of your name as the grip he has on your hands tightens substantially. He offers a slow, shallow thrust, his head dropping forward as his length slides deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth. The pressure of your tongue against the underside of his cock and the heavy reverberations of your soft, encouraging moans invigorate him to set a careful rhythm, hips stroking gently forward.

Your knuckles dig into the messy sheets as he pivots his weight forward, and you quickly relax your jaw when you feel him inching closer to your throat with every thrust. Chanyeol is even more considerate than you thought he’d be, pulling out far enough between steady strokes that you can swallow lungfuls of oxygen before sliding smoothly back in, deeper and deeper each time. Tears pool in the corners of your eyes, mouth straining in order to accommodate his impressive girth. But hell, it’s worth it. Totally worth it.

His breathing became harsh and labored, filling his lungs with sharp, ragged inhales that shudder through the deep cavity of his chest. “F– fuck, y/n,” he groans hoarsely, head dipping as his eyes squeeze shut, “your mouth is— s- so good.”

Your core tightens around nothing at the rasping whimper, the faint caress of his warm breath rousing goosebumps across the damp skin of your belly. The subconscious clenching of your thighs is wholly unintentional, but it does not go unnoticed.

Chanyeol lets out a choked gasp as a hand slides into his hair, his upper body suddenly forced downwards.

“Come on, Yeolie,” Baekhyun coos tauntingly in his ear, “you were the one going on and on about balance. So why don’t you provide some… ‘give and take’, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he barely whispers, but you still feel a rush of hot breath over your core and moan throatily around his cock. He tenses and shudders in response to the delicious rush of vibrations, tightening his grip on your hands as Baekhyun guides him lower.

Honestly, you aren’t sure at first if you have another one in you. Three orgasms in one night was unimaginable before tonight. Four seemed simply unrealistic. Your poor pussy is still pulsing and trembling from the last. But the moment Chanyeol flicks his tongue over your clit, the most delicate of kitten licks, you know that you do.

This time though, it’s like molten metal boiling in the pit of your stomach, a wholly unfamiliar sensation. Each press of his lips and roll of his tongue fans the fire blazing through your veins. You try your best to keep up, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue, but it’s difficult when it feels like your brain is short circuiting. The pleasure is fiercer, more intense, rolling over you in thick, devastating waves. You’re reduced to little more a moaning, writhing mess beneath him, barely able to keep yourself from choking on his cock.

Chanyeol’s hips buck frantically as your throat constricts, his own ministrations getting rougher and sloppier the closer he gets. You feel his teeth against your clit, then two long fingers slipping through your slicks folds and fucking themselves into your pussy. Baekhyun can only groan hotly at how easily you take his digits, squeezing his opposite hand around the base of his hard dick.

“I’m gonna come,” Chanyeol whimpers hurriedly, “oh fuck I’m gonna come.”

Suddenly, his hips pulse and your bottom lip make contact with the flat of his pelvis. It takes every ounce of control you have over your body to push back your gag reflex, but the way he trembles and breaks above you is undoubtedly worth the strain. A jumbled mess of words tumble from his lips as he comes, though only your name and a select few curses are intelligible between the deep, violent moans that burst from his chest.

Tears fall from the corners of your eyes as he fucks himself into your mouth, motions stuttered and sloppy. But you swallow around him eagerly as he fills your throat with his release, which only serves in prolonging his orgasm until he’s shivering and whining and hell— each sound, each tremble has the coil in your stomach squeezing tighter and tighter.

All the while, Baekhyun’s fingers are loyally exploring your silken walls until he once again discovers that small bundle of nerves that make your head spin. Combined with Chanyeol moaning and growling against your clit— you're a dead woman.

This final orgasm is the equivalent of having a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Every hair on your body jumps to stand at attention, oxygen suddenly igniting into flames in your lungs. You scream around Chanyeol’s cock, back bowing off the mattress, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. It’s so intense you honestly feel like you might pass out. But it’s so good, too good —fuck, it’s the best you’ve ever had!— and you want to relish in every mind numbing moment.

All at once, Chanyeol is gone from between your lips and you gasp, a rush of cool air like a glass of ice water in the torrid desert flooding into your lungs and soothing the angry blaze.

“Holy shit.”

You’re too gone in the high to make out who the strained whisper had come from, or to notice the sudden substantial amount of wetness painting the insides of your thighs and seeping into the sheets below. Your brain feels thoroughly scrambled, effectively stupefied by the prodigious pleasure and you can do nothing but bask in it.

“Have you ever done that before?” It takes you a few extra seconds to realize that the question is directed at you.

“Hmm?” You hum blearily, not bothering to try and lift your head.

“Squirting,” Baekhyun clarifies, voice thick with wonder, “have you ever done that before?”

“Squirting? No, I’ve never—” your head snaps up, eyes bulging, “I squirted?!”

If the excessive arousal currently coating (and dripping from) Chanyeol’s astonished face and the unusually large wet spot staining the sheets is anything to go by, the answer is a clear yes.

Panic strikes your chest. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I- I am so—”

“Don’t apologize! Don’t you dare apologize.” Baekhyun abruptly cuts you off, splaying a hand over your belly. “That has to be the most— amazing thing I have ever seen. No girl has ever squirted on me before. I’m honestly honored.”

“Baekhyun, please.” You whine, pulling a pillow over your feverish face and snapping your legs shut.

“I’m serious!” He yelps indignantly, tugging the pillow away from you and tossing it to the side despite your noisy complaints. Two strong hands find either of your thighs and pry them apart in spite of your stubborn resistance, revealing the slippery mess you made on the sheets below.

Heat rushes up your neck as Chanyeol falls into position between them like it’s the most natural thing in the entire world and begins licking at your wet skin. The muscles of your thighs shake and tighten uncontrollably under the intimate ministrations, the post orgasm sensitivity extending beyond your core and into each of your limbs.

“Chan,” you whimper remorsefully, clenching your fingers in the duvet, “I can’t. I can’t.”

He smiles against your skin, licks turning into gentle kisses that make your heart flutter and melt in ways it definitely should not in response to your best friend’s big, sweet eyes. Then again— this entire situation is remarkably unconventional in regards to a typical friendship. Not that you’re complaining because really, how could you? Four orgasms? In one night? Unheard of. A part of you wonders if they were actually just trying to kill you.

While Chanyeol bathes you in his limitless affection, Baekhyun vanishes from your side and into the attached bathroom, returning only moments later with a towel saturated with hot water. You hum gratefully as he carefully scrubs away the sheen of sweat and sticky arousal clinging to your skin. And he’s considerate, too? Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.

“You guys are going to ruin all other men for me, fucking hell.” You huff out a hoarse chuckle. Chanyeol suddenly flops down beside you, nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder.

“Who needs other men when you have us?” He rebukes, large hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

You can honestly find no reason to disagree.

“Guys,” Baekhyun chimes once finished scrubbing you down, “let’s move to Chanyeol’s room. I need to throw these sheets in the washer before they get crusty. Made that mistake once. Never again.”

“I would totally do that but I’m pretty sure my legs are numb.”

“Ain’t no thang, pretty lady. I’ve got you.” Chanyeol chirps gallantly, slipping his arms beneath your legs and back. Before you can make any kind of protest, you’re being swooped off the bed and pressed into a warm chest. Shrieks of laughter peel from your lips as the gentle giant spins, and you throw your arms around his neck just for extra precaution.

“Yeolie,” Baekhyun whines mockingly, stomping his foot childishly as he plasters an exaggerated pout across his face, “you never pick me up and twirl me around like a pretty princess.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you tease, extending a leg and pressing your toes against his chest, “only room for one pretty princess in this apartment.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is.” He scoffs as he stumbles back and falls dramatically back onto the mattress, hand splayed over his heart like you had somehow managed to wound him.

“Speaking of washing,” Chanyeol chirps, glancing down at you, “How does a warm bath sound?”

“Like heaven.” You groan. “Baek, feel free to join us after you're done doing your laundry.” You shoot him a mirthful grin as Chanyeol pivots and carries you out of the room that bears the musky, filthy scent of sex.

“Wait you’re just gonna— but I—“ Baekhyun wavers, looking between your retreating figures and his stupid dirty sheets before letting out a groan of frustration and scurrying after you. “Fuck it. I’m coming, I’m coming!”

“Is your bathtub big enough to fit three people?” You question, gaze landing on Baekhyun’s cute ass as he jogs ahead.

Chanyeol shrugs, humming thoughtfully. “We can squeeze.”

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“We can definitely squeeze.”

1K notes · View notes

kay-diggle · 3 years

Text

The Promise Ring

Summary: Some promises are broken, some promises remain intact, and new promises are made.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre & Rating: Angst, Smut, Hint of Fluff, 18+

Warnings: oral (m. recieving), somewhat dom!jungkook (he’s actually a big softie) sub!reader, hairpulling, mentions of jealousy, overstimulation, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex (pls pls pls stay safe guys!)

Length: 4.2k

Notes: I apologize that the first fic I post in months is so terrible (it highkey feels like it’s all over the place but that’s okay!) If you somehow enjoy this... please let me know! I’m still kinda in hiatus bc of school btw :( {Requests are closed}

Kay-Diggle’s Ultimate Masterlist

Before

“It’s so pretty out here tonight,” you commented on the beautiful scenery in front of you. You were laid across your boyfriend’s lap while he leaned back, both taking in the view.

For your four year anniversary, Jungkook took you out to a clearing that overlooks the city. You had a late night picnic, eating your favorite foods while sharing some of your favorite memories from the past four years you’ve been together.

“Yea… but you’re prettier.”

“Ugh, corrrnnyyyy,” you whined despite feeling yourself begin to blush.

“Yea, but you love it,” he placed a sweet kiss on your forehead. “And I think this is the perfect time to give you your anniversary gift babe!”

“No! I definitely told you I did not want a gift this year.”

“Well that is definitely too bad because I got you one anyways,” he countered, playful as ever.

He sat up, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. It was hard to see since it was dark outside, but when you clearly saw the velvet black box, you felt a rush of all different types of emotions exploding within you. Upon seeing your shocked face, he stupidly grinned before opening the box, confirming your suspicions about what was inside.

“Jungkook….” your jaw dropped as you looked at the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever seen.

“Y/n,” his hand found yours, “I love you so much baby. These past four years have been…. just, so amazing that it’s kind of hard to put into words, ya know? But the one thing I can tell you for sure is that we were meant to be together. You were literally made for me -- my handcrafted destiny. And I promise you that will never change. I promise that I will never stop loving you, I’ll never hurt you. I promise you that I will never break your heart.”

Nothing could stop the way tears pooled into your eyes at his heartfelt words. You were speechless, only being able to mouth the words ‘I love you’ while Jungkook began laughing at you while wiping away your tears.

“I know what you’re thinking but it’s not that, so don’t freak out! It’s a promise ring,” he took your left hand, placing said ring on your finger.

You couldn’t even focus on his words, you just wanted to hug him. And so you did. As soon as he slipped the ring on your finger, you were wrapping him in your arms and tackling him to the ground, crying while laughing at the same time while he laughed with you.

“Did you even hear me just now?” he chuckled.

“Yes, not a proposal, but a promise ring,” you nodded.

“Okay. Just keep in mind I will ask you to marry me one day,” he smirked.

"And I, Y/n, promise you, Jungkook, that when that day does come, I'll say yes. If you would've asked me tonight I would have said yes with no hesitation."

“Well then, I can’t wait for that day, hm?”

“Yeah, me neither.”

And that night, the two of you made love outside, underneath the stars.

Now

When you walked into the room you felt your stomach drop. Seeing your ex-boyfriend’s face months after the worst break up you’ve ever had instead of his best friend who you were planning to meet up with was not what you were expecting when you opened the door.

“You’re not Namjoon,” a deep frown set on your face.

“I know. I asked him to get you here. Y/n, please… just hear me out.”

“No Jungkook,” you shook your head. “I believe you said enough the last time we saw each other, yea?”

You turned, placing your hand on the doorknob and turning it. Before you could fully open it, you felt a force push it back closed with Jungkook’s strong presence behind you, his hand pressed against the door above your head.

“Y/n. Stay.”

He whispered it in your ear and although he said it in a commanding voice, his voice was strained almost as if he was begging. You stood completely still for a moment, your heart and mind battling against each other even though you already knew their fight was pointless. In the end, your heart always made you cave.

You turned to face him, realizing that you were completely trapped between him and the door, you quickly became uncomfortable. Fuck your stupid heart for not being able to resisit the man who broke it.

“What do you want?”

“I miss you.”

You scoffed at that.

“Well that’s something you could have communicated over the phone rather than creating this whole elaborate plan with Namjoon and getting him to lure me all the way to this hotel.”

“You realize that you blocked me… on everything, right? I can’t communicate anything to you,” he rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I realize that. And I did that for a reason. What part of ‘I never want to hear from you or see you again’ did you not understand from when we broke up?”

“Oh I understood that shit perfectly and I still think it’s fucking bogus.”

“Yea of fucking course you would. You know that was always your problem. You never see things from my point of view.”

“Oh and what point of view would that be? Starting arguments over nothing because you’re bored to the point where we had to actually BREAK UP?”

“Bored Jungkook? Really? I assure you that if I was really bored I would’ve found better ways of occupying my time than arguing with your ass over the same shit.”

“Oh get real Y/n.”

“No, you get real!! Your head is so far up your fucking ass that eight months later you still can’t see what you did wrong.”

“There’s nothing to see! I didn’t do anything!!”

“Jungkook I fucking told you on multiple occasions that I didn’t appreciate you entertaining that girl when she flirted with you! You know, the one who was only supposed to be a close FRIEND?!?”

“Jesus Christ y/n, you act as if I FUCKED her. I didn’t even flirt back!” he stepped back from you, crossing his arms under his chest.

“IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER! Do you understand how it made me feel?? How she would whisper with her friends, talk shit about OUR relationship and I just had to sit back and listen. OH but the ONE time I get drunk and flirt with Taehyung in a moment of weakness, suddenly I was the villain. Suddenly I destroyed our relationship and was all types of whores and sluts. Honestly Jungkook, you can go to hell.”

“You flirted with my BEST FRIEND y/n.. Basically offered to suck his dick. I’m sorry, was I not supposed to get angry?”

“No but I definitely wasn’t expecting you to disrespect me by calling me out of my name Jungkook!”

“I APOLOGIZED! I apologized as soon as I realized what I said. And I’ll apologize again if that’s what it’ll take to-”

“No you don’t have to do shit. I’m leaving. I can’t believe I even stayed this long. Ugh, this is my problem. I’m always too nice to people who don’t deserve my kindness,” your words came out venomous.

Jungkook bared his teeth, visibly upset before he walked towards you, forcing your body back into the wall.

“No your problem was you never wanted to fucking talk. It was ALWAYS arguing with you. EVEN NOW! I invited you here to have a conversation and look at what you started!”

“No YOU started it!” you poked your finger into his chest. “You knew exactly what would happen if we saw each other again which is exactly why you got me here under false pretenses. This is all your fault,” you screamed. “Everything. Was. Your. Fault.” you poked his chest with each word.

Jungkook grabbed the finger you kept poking him with and it made you audibly gasp. He stared down at you with a look that came across as angry but having been in this position with him before, you could also notice a slight hint of lust in his eyes.

He let go of your finger before gently pushing his palm into your chest, making your back hit the door and grabbing your wrists, holding them against the door.

“Listen. To. Me,” he spoke slowly. “I am not putting up with your attitude tonight so stop.”

“Make me.”

It was like clock work, the way the two simple words you uttered set him off. He let go of one of your wrists to wrap his hand around your neck, choking you lightly and bent down to whisper in your breath.

“Stop fucking playing with me Y/N. You already know what happens when you do that shit.”

“Hmm… well it has been eight months. Maybe you need to refresh my memory?” you challenged.

Jungkook grunted out of frustration before tightening his grip on your throat and kissing you. The kiss was rushed and furious, much different than the ones you’ve shared with him in the past. No matter how upset he was with you, his lips were always gentle on your skin, but this was completely different. He forced his tongue into your mouth and bit on your lips so hard you were worried he would draw blood.

His other hand let go of your wrist, trailing it up your thigh to squeezing your waist and ultimately groping your ass while giving your lips a break to attack the sweet spots on your neck instead.

“Fuck….” you moaned out when his hand began squeezing your breasts, brushing against your hard nipples.

“You like when I play with your tits?”

“Nope,” you spit out. “You’re barely doing anything for me right now.”

“Hmm well you wanna know what I like? When you can’t talk. How about we shut you up.”

He shrugged off his jacket, placing it on the floor before pushing you to your knees. Having been in this position before, you reacted automatically, rubbing his length through his pants a little. You unbuckled his belt and undid his pants before pulling them and his boxers down just enough to reveal his semi hard dick. After finally seeing it again after months, it would be a lie to say you didn’t miss it.

“Suck. Now.”

At his command, you looked up at him while wrapping your hand around his base, letting spit drip from your mouth onto him to make him wet. You moved your hand up and down his length a bit before finally taking him into your mouth, You let your tongue run on the underside of his dick from base to tip before wrapping your lips around his tip and lightly sucking, just like you knew he liked. You looked up at him, covering your teeth with your lips and taking his length further in your throat. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, guiding you up and down his length while his other was spread against the door as if using it to hold himself up. You felt him twitch in your mouth before there was a knock at the door.

“Jungkook? Y/n? I just came to make sure you guys didn’t kill each other in here,” Namjoon joked wearily.

“Yup! All good,” came Jungkook’s hasty response when he felt you take in his length completely, deepthroating him.

“I see you’re acting out for Namjoon,” he whispered looking down at your teasing face before using your hair to push you further down and hold you there.

After a few seconds he let you up, coughing up spit while gasping for air loud enough that Namjoon could hear.

“Jungkook what was that? Where’s y/n?”

“She’s here. She’s fine. We’re working it out. Bye Namjoon!” Jungkook made you go back to sucking his cock after letting you get a few breaths.

“Maybe I should come in and mediate….” Namjoon contemplated, completely unaware of what was happening on the other side of the room.

“Unless you want to see her choking on my dick, maybe now is not the best time Namjoon,” Jungkook was starting to get annoyed.

“Oh… in that case.. I’ll just get going I guess…. Glad to hear you two are.. Working it out?” Both you and Jungkook could hear Namjoon taking off in the opposite direction of the room. It made you giggle a little bit, vibrating against Jungkook’s cock. Nearly cumming down your throat at the feeling, he slapped his hand against the door before using your hair to pull your mouth off of him.

His hand wrapped around your arm, pulling your body back into a standing position before capturing your lips in a heated kiss again.

“Fucking Namjoon….” Jungkook trailed off, his hands now exploring your body again. “And why the fuck were you coming to see Namjoon dressed like this?” He asked, referring to the tiny black dress you were wearing that barely covered your ass.

You replied with the most petty thing you could think of. “I don’t know. Maybe it was so that I could finally fuck one of your best friends, like I was accused of doing.”

Jungkook gritted his teeth, yet again visibly annoyed with you. “And how should I fuck you fuck, hm? Should I fuck you against the door? Make you scream my name? Make sure everyone in this hotel knows how much you’ve fucking missed me?”

His fingers traveled under your dress and pulled your soaked panties to the side, easily slipping a finger into you and then adding another beginning to fuck you

“Ah, shit!”

“Answer the question.”

“Fuck! Yes, fuck me wherever you like”

At that, he quickly ripped your underwear off your body and pulled your dress off, wanting as much access to your bare skin as possible. He pulled the rest of his pants off as you tugged his shirt off and threw it across the room.

He pushed you completely against the door and raised one of your legs to wrap around his waist. Taking his length in his hand, he slapped it against your clit a few times, smirking at you as you whimpered at the feeling. He rubbed his length against your wet folds until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Jungkook,” you were annoyed.

“Yes?” He looked at you with a sly smile on his face.

“Just put it in!”

“Beg me first.”

“You’re so goddamn irritating.”

“Now Y/n, is that any way to talk to someone who can give you what you so desperately need?” His condescending tone of voice only worked to aggravate you further, but you not wanting to waste anymore time, you gave in.

“Please Jungkook! Please fuck me. I can’t wait anymore, it’s been too long. Please i- I need you!”

He pressed your waist further into the door before finally sliding inside of you.

“I don’t want to hear anything out of your mouth that isn’t you begging or my name,” he whispered in your ear as he began to fuck you, his movements made easier by your wetness. “No talking back.” Hard Thrust. “No smart ass comments.” Hard thrust. “Nothing.”

When he began pounding into you, you lost your footing, almost slipping. With a grunt, Jungkook grabbed both of your thighs, hoisting you up against the door and trapping you under his body. With this new position, he spread your legs further, now being able to go deeper within you. When you felt his tip repeatedly nudge the spongy spot within you, you let out your loudest sound yet, a combination of Jungkook’s name and a moan. He apparently thought it was too loud because he covered your mouth with the palm.

“Be quiet” he whispered in your ear harshly.

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, moving his palm so that you could speak. “‘I’m sorry, it’s just so good, ugh fuck.”

“Yea, bubby? Did you miss me fucking this tight pussy? Missed me pounding into you just the way you like?”

The cute pet name he used to call you when you were in a relationship completely flew over your head. The only thing you could focus on was the way his cock felt sliding against your walls, throbbing inside of you.

“God, please! Please make me cum.”

“You wanna cum? You missed cumming all over my cock right?”

“Fuck yes! God,” you cried out when he went harder, your body banging into the door with every thrust.

Jungkook was too busy holding your body up so he could fuck you properly, so you one of the hands that was gripping his shoulders down to your throbbing clit, rubbing it so that you could bring yourself to your end. Jungkook’s eyes traveled down to where your fingers were working, biting his lip at the sight.

“Mmhmm, yes bubby. Rub that little pretty clit of yours. Are you gonna make yourself cum, hmm? Be a good girl for once and make yourself cum for me?”

“Yes.. yes, I’m gonna cum so hard Jungkook, just for you! Ahhh, fucckkkk” You were spewing so many words in your moment of bliss that you couldn’t even recall what you were saying.Your legs trembled while your hands wrapped around Jungkook’s wrist as he fucked you through your high. Your entire body felt overwhelmed as you came, especially when Jungkook kissed you while you were still shaking all over his dick, making it even harder for you to breathe.

Disconnecting your lips so you could both catch a breath, jungkook asked “You came so hard, can you take more?”

“Yes. Please, I need more.” Jungkook could see in your eyes how fucked out you were. The look you gave him had his cock throbbing so hard that he felt he could cum in that exact moment.

He carried your limp body to the bed on the other side of the room, placing you down on the edge and instructing you to move up towards the headboard, holding back a laugh as he watched you struggle to crawl with your worn out legs.

He joined you on the bed, sitting on his knees between your spread legs, touching himself at the sight of your post-orgasm face and glistening wetness. Watching him bite his lip and touch himself while looking you dead in the eye had your worn out pussy whimpering for him again, demanding more, and you couldn’t wait. You wrapped your legs around his waist, prompting him to hover over you, hands right beside your head to hold himself up.

“Do you want it?”

You quickly nodded your head.

“Words, bubby.”

“Yes Jungkook.”

And then you both watched as he slid his length back inside of your cavern. Compared to his fast and rough thrust earlier, these were slower and more calculated. He was grinding into you in a way where you could feel his pelvis brush against your clit every time he moved deeper into you. You cried out to him again from the overstimulation.

“You okay y/n?” he questioned, not stopping his movements.

“Yea, just sensitive. Please don’t stop,” you begged,

“I promise I won’t. I don’t ever want to stop….”

You couldn’t focus on his words while he moved inside you. All you could do is let the moans roll out of your mouth that hung wide open. And all Jungkook could do was watch, thinking about how much he missed this. How much he missed you.

He lowered his body so that he was basically laying on top of you, one hand gripping your waist while the other gripped the sheet next to your head. He rolled his hips into you at a faster pace and you couldn’t help but fling your arms around him, holding on tight. He dropped his forehead to yours and you finally looked at him, really looked at him without the lust clouding your eyes. You were still able to read him the same way you always could. You finally noticed the drop in his earlier dominant persona and how he became softer with the way he touched you.

You felt his love radiating through you. He was making love to you.

“Fuck y/n, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Jungkook … please, please don’t. Please just fuck me,” you begged. You couldn’t do this. You weren’t ready to face your feelings.

“I can’t just fuck you. I want more. I want you.” Both of his hands found their way to yours, locking your fingers together while looking each other in the eye. “I only want you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I love you, bubby. I’ve never stopped… ugh, I promised I never would.”

His sudden confession made all of the emotions you thought you had locked away for the past eight months come back. You were crying. You were sobbing under the guise of pleasure.. It was all too bittersweet. Jungkook was simultaneously making your body feel good but your heart feel so sad.

You couldn’t speak. You didn’t have the words. You just clamped your walls around him, pushing you both towards your climaxes. He squeezed your hands when he felt his balls tighten and cock throb, kissing you and groaning against your mouth as he came inside of you. He left open mouthed kisses on your face and down your body. This time, it was his fingers on your clit that brought you to your second end, all while whispering sweet, meaningful words in your ear about how beautiful you were and how much he misses you. It made your orgasm more intense, your feelings overriding your senses as you spasmed around his now soft cock inside of you.

When he finally pulled out, he kissed you deeply for only a second, hugging your body closer to his and wiping your tears away as you both tried to catch your breath yet again. When the stickiness of your lower body began to feel as heavy as your heart and to Jungkook’s dismay, you got out of the bed and went into the bathroom, taking some time to clean up and silently sob into your hand before splashing water onto your tear stained cheek. You weren’t prepared for what would happen when you walked out the door and faced your ex lover again, but you knew you couldn’t avoid it either.

Exiting the bathroom you saw Jungkook already dressed and you scanned the room for your clothing which was mostly by the door. Jungkook silently watched as you dressed yourself and when he saw the look on your face when you turned around, he shot out of the bed and rushed towards you.

“Marry me.”

Your jaw dropped. “Jungkook…. What? Are you insane?!?”

When he brought his hand into your line of sight, you recognized the item you threw at his chest eight months ago as you packed your bags and prepared to leave him. The cursed promise ring.

“Do you remember when I gave this to you? I promised you that one day I would ask you to marry me. Well today is that day…... Do you remember what you promised me?”

“Jungkook… “

“What did you promise me y/n?” he was desperate.

“I promised- I promised that I would say yes when you asked,” you mumbled, eyesight being blocked by fresh tears.

“Well I’m asking,” he got down on one knee. “Y/n, will you marry me?”

“This isn’t fair,” you sobbed. “I said that when we were still together. Things have changed Jungkook.”

“Oh really? What’s changed y/n? We haven’t been together for a few months, but who cares. The only thing that matters is that our feelings haven’t been affected by our time apart. And they never will be. We’re always going to be in love. I promised you that.”

Jungkook was crying himself at this point, and it broke you. Your head and heart were once again at war, but that didn’t matter. Nothing else could matter to you when the love of your life was on one knee in front of you, professing his undying love for you and asking you to spend the rest of your life with him. Your heart and your mind ultimately knew that he was right. Your feelings for him never changed, and they never would. There was no point trying to fight it. And yea he might have broken a promise or two, but he was making good on them now, and that was all that mattered.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, before mumbling out a small “Yes.”

When you opened your eyes, your new fiancé looked dumbfounded with the brightest smile you had ever seen on him. He cried out in joy before coming off his knee, lifting you up in his arms and twirling you around before trapping your face in his hands and kissing you as if his life depended on it. You couldn’t help but laugh as you wiped both his and your own tears away.

“Was this your whole plan? To propose to me tonight?”

“It was,” he grinned. “Now that I know what my life is like without you in it, I’m never letting you go again. And that’s a promise.”

#bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot #bts oneshot #dom!jungkook #sub!reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook

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parkersbliss · 3 years

Text

Stubborn | Minho

Pairing: Minho x Female Reader

Warnings: blood, near death, cursing??

WC; 2.5K

synopsis: yes, it does take a near death experience to finally admit your feelings

a/n: probably my last imagine before 2021 SO HAPPY NEW YEAR BYE 2020

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

“I’m just saying,” Newt said, arms crossed. “It would save everyone a lot of pain and headaches if one of you just said it.”

“I’m not a liar,” You replied.

“You’re lying to yourself right now,” Newt smirked, watching as your gaze hardened and you smacked his arm.

Thomas jogs up to the two of you, taking one glance at Newt rubbing his arm and you pursing your lips and looking the other way.

“Newt’s right.”

You spin around, mouth open, “How did you?—”

Thomas shrugs, “Call it a third sense, but whatever he said about Minho, you should listen.”

You scoff at the two boys, thoughts running around in your head.

You were in love with your best friend, it was plain as day.

But saying that to his face? That was something that would never happen. Minho was your best friend, he was your other half and to tell him how you feel and ruin that… well that’s just selfish of you. He was also your running partner, you spent almost the entire day together and the last thing you need is for him to leave you alone in the maze after some stupid confession.

Point is, there was too much at stake. It was an unnecessary risk that you didn’t want to take.

“I bet she’s thinking about his muscles,” Thomas snickers, playfully nudging Newt’s shoulder.

Newt giggles, “When is she not? Who knows what goes on when they’re inside the maze.”

You roll your eyes, smacking both of them, “Both of you, slim it.”

“Can’t handle the truth, (Y/N)?” Thomas teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’ll make sure to leave you alone in the maze next time.”

Thomas’s eyes widen, “Okay, hey we were joking! Minho’s ugly anyway.”

“The hell?” Another voice breaks in. “I’m hotter than both of you combined.”

Heat flares in your cheeks as you glance at your running partners who stumbled onto your early morning conversation.

Newt pats Minho’s shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile, “yes, yes of course.”

Minho swats his hand away, glaring at him, “Don’t say it like that.”

“Say it like what?” Newt said innocently before disappearing to the gardens.

Thomas holds his hands up in defense, “All jokes,” he coughs, meeting your eyes. “I’ll uh, I’ll see you guys later.”

Thomas turns to leave but not before sending a wink your way. You glare at him, mouthing the words ‘slim it' while drawing a finger across your throat.

A small hand on your shoulder brings you out of your thoughts.

Minho looks at you with his brown eyes, and you’re not sure how to act.

You can’t process anything, and if he’s speaking to you, you don’t hear it. All you can focus on is him, and everything about him. He’s clouding your senses, making it hard to see but you don’t mind.

“Did you hear me?” Minho asked, now placing both hands on his hips.

You blink, nodding, “Yes, loud and clear.”

“Okay,” Minho drawls, “what did I say?”

Damn him, you think.

“Gally sucks toes?”

“Cute, but no, Although I wouldn’t be surprised if that was true,” Minho muses. “I said Fry is finishing up our lunches and then we’re good to go.”

You let out a loud sigh, “Do we have to?” You ask Minho, pouting.

He rolls his eyes, bopping your nose, “you signed up for this.”

“Yeah right,” you snort, “more like you forced me to be here.”

“Forced and extensively encouraged are two different things.”

You cross your arms and raised your eyebrows at the brown-eyed boy, “You know what, I’m pretty sure this is just an excuse to hang out with me.”

“Oh you wish, eight hours in the Maze with you and your whining is enough.”

“If I’m that annoying why not go with Thomas sometime?” You challenge.

Minho’s silent, “He's somehow worse than you.”

You pat Minho on the chest as you walk by to pick up your lunches, “Okay, lover boy.”

“It’s true!” He calls out after you, trying to defend himself.

Was he that obvious? He’s glad your back is turned to him and you can’t see how red his cheeks have gotten.

He shakes his head, breathing in deeply. This wasn’t part of the plan, not that he had a plan.

He planned to run until he found a way out of here, but even that plan didn’t work. At some point, he had given up. He had come to terms with the fact that there was no escape. He’s known that for years. It ate him from the inside out, knowing that everyone counted on him to find a way out and he already knew the answer.

But he couldn’t let the other Glader’s feel like he did, he couldn’t watch them lose hope. He’d spend every day running if it meant they didn’t end up like him, empty and cold.

But then you came along.

And when you arrived, Minho had something worth fighting for. A little blossom of hope in his heart that with you here, he had to find a way out.

And then you became a runner, and Minho took his chance.

He was amazed that you didn’t give up, even when he told you that he’d run the whole thing. You had this spark in your eye, you looked him in the eye and you told him,

“There’s always a way out, we’re just not looking in the right place or the right thing.”

Funny enough, you hadn’t made any progress since then.

Unless you count Minho catching feelings for you, but he wouldn’t consider that progress.

“Hey! Think fast,” You said, tossing Minho his sandwich.

Of course, Minho being in deep thought about you slows his actions and he barely catches his lunch, almost tripping in the process.

You’re stood across from him, smirk adorning your face, “Nice catch.”

“Thanks,” he said, “I’d like to see you do better.”

“I probably could,” You shrug.

Minho scoffs, mumbling something under his breath as you drag him toward the maze. Thomas waves from his spot, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you flip him off.

The door slowly opens and once there’s enough space, the two of you take off.

…

You and Minho were a bit more cautious now that Ben had been stung in broad daylight, it was something no one had ever seen in the Glade.

It never really crossed your mind that something like that could happen, but now that it did, everyone was a bit more on edge.

It was like you could sense the trouble looming over you, that the worse was yet to come, but no one said anything.

No one wanted to say anything.

You slow your pace, leaning against a wall to take a sip from your water. You make sure to not let Minho too far out of your sight, the last time it happened didn’t end very well.

You debate calling out to him, but you let him go, needing to save your breath. You don’t doubt he’ll notice soon enough. You close your eyes, resting for a bit… just a little while longer.

“(Y/N)!”

You sigh, pushing yourself off the wall as you jog to catch up with Minho.

“Present!” You announce, waving your hands.

He shakes his head, grabbing your hand, “you’re sticking with me.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” You wink, watching as Minho turns away from you, hiding his flushed face.

His hand fits in your like it’s meant to be, but you don’t believe in stuff like that.

You do, however, believe in how you don’t want to let it go. It made you feel safer, it’s a stupid thought but it does.

You trust that when you’re holding onto him, nothing bad will happen, and if it did, he’s there.

Your run is slowed to more of a walk as the sun reaches high noon, beating down on both of you, sweating accumulating on your neck.

You can feel the strain of your run pulling on your muscles, but you’d grown accustomed to the feeling.

Minho turns back to look at you, he’s about to open his mouth but he’s quick to snap it shut.

“Did you hear that?" He asks.

“Hear wh-”

You fall silent when you hear the sounds of clanking followed by low growls.

Minho’s eyes widen as he looks at you, and you look back at him mirroring the same expression.

“We need to get back to the Glade,” Minho said slowly. His eyebrows are furrowed as he listens for the Griever in order to choose the best path of escape. Your instincts tell you the best plan of escape is the east door, but then the maze falls silent.

The quiet is somehow deafening, save for your heart pounding madly in your chest. At any moment, it could strike, it could walk around any corner and kill you both.

You’d never know until it was too late.

Minho squeezes your hand tightly, his back towards your own as you watch all the possible places the griever could come from.

And the lucky winner was where you happened to be looking. The griever comes racing around the corner, it’s screeching filling the air mixing with your own.

“Holy shit!” You scream, feeling Minho tug on your hand and pull you to what was hopefully an exit.

You push yourself to go faster, the last thing you wanted was to be eaten by a griever of all things. You try not to think about how it’s closing in on you, or how you might die here. Instead, you try and focus on your breathing and the way Minho is gripping on tightly to your hand. You will yourself to try and think of anything else but the creature chasing you. This is what you were training for, running.

Running even when you feel out of breath, running even when your legs are begging you to stop, running because it’s the only thing that’ll save you.

It never ends, and it never stops.

Minho takes a sharp left and you follow, looking behind you for the briefest second only to see the griever reaching out for you.

It happens in a flash, you can feel it’s claw pierce your skin, tearing at it as you run. You grit your teeth, seething in pain as you collapse.

Minho turns around to find you, eyes widening as he sees the griever looming above you.

“Go!” You shout, propping yourself against a wall.

Minho shakes his head, standing his ground as he looks from the griever to you.

“Trust me, Minho! Go!”

Minho’s hesitant, he couldn’t leave you, what if you bled out and died on him? What kind of person would he be then? What would he do when he loses the one thing he has left to fight for?

“Please,” You beg, eyes teary.

Minho feels his heart shatter in his chest as he realizes you’re right, he should go.

But not without taking the griever with him.

Minho finds a stray rock on the ground, feeling it in his hand before he chucks it at the creature.

It makes a sound, one then he could never forget as it turns away from you and lunges for him.

Minho looks to you, giving you a curt nod before making a run for it, the griever following him.

You lean your head back against the wall, ignoring the pain in your leg as you let the tears silently flow down your face as you watch him disappear.

Of course, he had to play the hero. You should be grateful, really, but you can’t. How can you be grateful when he was risking his life for one that was already gone?

You’d accepted your fate, you knew you were going to die here and you could face that.

But Minho had to screw it all up and risk himself too, it wasn’t fair. You didn’t know if he would come back to you, or if he did, If you’d still be alive.

Would one of you die before you get to say the words you’ve so desperately wanted to? Was the world this cruel?

Did it take one of you dying for you to finally accept what you already knew? You couldn’t imagine dying before you tell him, but leaving him with that… was that not crueler than any fate he could succumb to?

You use your hand that’s not grabbing your bleeding leg to wipe away your tears. If Minho didn’t come back, if someone didn’t come back, you’d sure be griever food.

Maybe you’d die before having to be ripped apart limb by limb.

The pain in your leg because nothing more than a dull ache as you breathe out slowly. You let your eyes fall shut, hoping to catch up on some much-needed rest while you pray Minho’s returns.

But when he does, it’s a sight he knows he’ll never forget.

His heart sinks in his chest when he sees you, laying in a pool of blood, chest barely rising and falling.

He kneels before you, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face and hold back his sobs.

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?”

When there’s no reply he begins panicking, tying to (as gently as possible) coax you awake. He grabs your shoulders, shaking you as he begs you to wake up.

Eventually, your eyes flutter open and Minho feels like he can breathe again as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Oh thank god.”

“You came back?” You ask softly.

He nods, pulling back you, “I’ll always come back.”

You reach out for his hands, which he gives you, squeezing them tightly.

“I love you,” You said, eyes fluttering shut again as you’re stuck with a wave of pain.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, babe,” Minho replies easily, dismissing your three words. This wasn’t the time to think about it, right now, he needed to get you back. “You’re a bit out of it from the amount of blood you lost, can you walk?” He asked, standing up.

You pull him back down, “Minho, I love you.”

He shakes his head, “we need to get you back to the medhut.”

“Minho,” You plead, you couldn’t die without him knowing.

He ignores you and instead, helps you to your feet leaning you against him and slowly being the journey back to the Glade.

You never asked what happened to the griever.

…

You groan, rolling onto your side as you wipe the sleep from your eyes. You blink when you realize that you were in a wooden hut that was most certainly not the maze, and then you look down at the hand interlocked with yours.

A hand that belonged to none other than your running partner.

When you meet his eyes, he’s already staring at you.

“Hi,” You said.

“Hey,” he breathes out, still taking in two much better you look. He’s still trying to delete the image of you in the maze out of his mind, but it might be something he was to live with.

“how do you feel?”

“Like shit,” you answer, “But it’s okay.”

“How are you?”

“Better.”

A silence hangs in the room, it’s heavy and you know what has to be said to clear it.

“I meant what I said.”

“What?”

You roll your eyes, tugging his hand with yours to your chest. “What I said in the maze, I meant it.”

“You said a lot of things in the maze.”

You stare up at the medhut ceiling, breathing out deeply. “I love you, Minho.”

There’s silence, and then, “Look me in the eye and say it.”

You turn to look at him, meeting his eyes with great ease and seeing the tears pool behind him.

“I love you, Minho. I always have.”

He diverts his gaze away from you, eyes falling to the floor before finally meeting yours again, a smile adorning his face.

“I love you too.”

— END —

🏷 Minho Taglist: @emeliii1 @bwndito @remusflirts

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