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buckyhoney-library · 3 years

Text

worst behavior, b.b

A/N: Surprise, i released it earlier than expected! I just- i hope you enjoy, bc this is probably the filthiest thing i've written- i also changed the plot a little bit!

Request: hiiii could i request a one-shot where professor!bucky sees you eyeing his metal arm bc he pushed his sleeves up one hot day and proceeds to keep you after class to do smth abt it? you can make it as kinky as you like, maybe some degrading and breeding if you’re comfortable w that! ugh i’m a whore for professor!bucky

reblogs & likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged

Warnings: 18+, professor!bucky, dom!bucky, age gap (f early 20's), degrading kink, public masturbation, oral (m&f), fingering, spanking, light choking, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, sorry for any missed typos!

Word Count: 4.6k, you already know i get carried away with bucky

You shuffle through the hallways of the historic building. The walls are decorated with paintings and engravings. Students walking in various directions making the hallway crowded and hard to get through. Every now and then, students would stop to talk to friends or professors. This halts the moving traffic, causing jams and irritated groans from other students. The satisfaction sets in when you glance down at the time and notice it’s nine fifty-seven. In three minutes, you’ll be officially late to class.

The other classes you take bore you- making it hard to stay focused. They are the generic first-year classes that everybody dreads. You always end up doodling or drifting in and out of sleep throughout the period- but this class? This is the only class that excites you.

World History with Professor Barnes.

You wake up extra early in the morning to get ready for his class. You put a little more effort into your appearance than the other classes. The thought of the professors and students seeing you in sweats and hoodie didn’t bother you. Professor Barnes’s class on the other hand- you made sure you looked put together. His lecture has you wanting to wear the shortest sundresses with little to nothing underneath them.

Being late to Professor Barnes’s class is frowned upon and requires immediate attention when it becomes excessive. The immediate attention was an after-hours meeting with Professor Barnes to discuss what could possibly be more important than his lecture.

The first time you showed up late, happened to be the first day of class. When you rushed into the lecture hall, your heart nearly stopped by the man in front of you. Brunette hair’s swept back, piercing blue eyes, and a button-up that looked a size too small- showing off his bulging biceps. The fitted navy-blue button-up was rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone. His biceps on full display through the material- showing off the vibranium. You swallowed hard as he began to scold you in front of the entire hall.

“I do not tolerate tardiness. Enough tardies require a private meeting after hours.” His light blue eyes never broke contact with yours, darkening with lust the longer he looks at you- taking you all in.

It was almost as if he was telling you to be late. There is a faint heartbeat between your legs, you cross them in fear he could hear the throbbing from where he stands. You began to daydream about the warm metal wrapped around your throat, while his other fingers were buried inside you. Or the prints that would be left against the flesh of your ass. You nod slowly with the most innocent eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Barnes. I had gotten lost. It will never happen again.” You say innocently, playing up the role- even going as far as pouting your lips.

Bucky’s cock twitched at the sight of your puffed-out lips. Begging to be made an example out of you in front of the class. You smile back at him, patiently waiting to be excused to your seat.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, Ms?”

“Y/L/N.” You purr.

“You may find a seat Ms. Y/L/N.”

He looks are you properly, eyeing you up and down. His eyes fixated on your hips, swaying side to side as you walk up the steps, your skirt flapping up behind you- teasing him. Bucky knew you were going to be trouble this semester- and trouble is exactly what you had been for the last month.

You did everything in your power to get him to keep you after class. Bucky is getting more and more fed up with you- acting so innocent. He knew damn well that you want nothing more than to have your pretty little mouth stuffed with his cock- gagging and gasping for breath.

He hates that you are pretending like you had no idea the amount of frustration you are causing him. The amount of self-control Bucky exhibits is astounding. Especially on the days, you come in wearing close to nothing- claiming it was ‘just too hot outside’ or when you sit in the front row with a lollipop in your mouth, exaggerating the moans as you suck the red hard candy.

You straighten out the wrinkles out of the floral baby blue sundress, before turning the knob on the door.

“Ms. Y/L/N. You’re late- again.” Professor Barnes states sternly, not bothering to look at you.

Bucky caught a glimpse out of the side of his eye- you were wearing his favorite dress and knew he couldn’t look at you in the eye without taking you right there.

This is Bucky’s favorite dress. He loves the way it holds your breasts higher and how it hangs over the curve of your ass so nicely.

How much prettier would the dress look across his lap.

Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you when you walk and the dress flows with every step- sometimes a little too much. This grants him a sneak peek of your favorite lacey white panties- or sometimes the lack thereof. He stiffens at the sight of the fabric covering your pretty little cunt, taunting him.

For the past month, all Bucky could think about is that cunt. How tight you’d be around him- hearing you whimper and whine when he finally enters you, stretching you out to fit perfectly. He wonders if you could take him all at once or if he needs to warm you up with his fingers- but the thing he thought about the most: how sweet you must taste. The question alone could get him off.

How desperately he wants a taste of you.

“Mr. Barnes I am sorry-“ You begin to play into your act before he cut you off,

“Find your seat.” He still not bothering to look at you.

Disappointment floods your face from the lack of attention. In an effort for payback, you sit in the first row already pouting. He began the lecture by discussing the homework he had assigned the night before. You reach into your bag, pulling out the folder.

Expecting you to be in your usual spot in the back of the lecture hall, Bucky clenches his jaw at the sight of you sitting with your legs crossed shut in the front row, with your elbows on the small desk and hands cupping your face in boredom. His cock began to stir. Your breasts press together against the thin fabric- that is working extra hard to keep your breasts from being on display for everyone.

You see the frustration written on his face the moment he finally looks at you. You smirk at the successful payback.

The class goes on, but the material bores you. You begin to stare at Professor Barnes. You could hear the small adjustments from the vibranium as he moves about the lecture hall. Your breath hitches when he rolls his sleeves up. His biceps bulging against the fabric, a faint throbbing begins between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek holding back a whimper. You squirm in your seat, uncrossing your legs to press them together to relieve some pressure.

The sinful thought begins to overtake your mind, only making the throbbing worse by the added arousal pooling against the lace. Checking each side of you, you look to see if there are any other students close enough to you that were about to witness this risky act. There are students staggered behind you, but only a couple dare to sit in the first rows. They are intently listening to their professor- who has his attention on the chalkboard.

You swallow a lump, attempting to steady your breathing. You slip your hand below the desk, resting it on your upper thigh. With one more quick scan of the room, you slip your hand underneath your dress.

You inhale sharply at the contact with your aching cunt. The slow circles you draw over your lacey panties release a wave of pleasure. Your lips part and your eyes flutter. The idea of someone catching you- the idea of him catching you? Made the arousal seep through the material getting on your fingers. You close your eyes dreaming about how Bucky’s fingers would dip between your folds, collecting the arousal and forcing you to taste yourself. You could imagine the pornographic scene play out in your mind, the heavy panting and degrading remarks- your fingers slip inside the thin fragile material. The satisfaction of making direct contact with the bundle of nerves makes it almost impossible to bit back any moans. Instead, you let out silent breaths.

Your imagination continues with his fingers going back between the folds, teasing the entrance- making you whine. Bucky’s other hand groping your breasts harshly. The focus is solely on the clit that throws you hurtling toward your orgasm. You brace yourself for the pleasurable release.

Bucky turns around to flip the page of the textbook when he sees it- sees your legs parted with your middle and ring finger rubbing circles over your clit. He holds his breath, not believing the whore in front of him. Your pants becoming faster and heavier. The pleasure begins to boil over, sending you over the edge. You remove your fingers covering your mouth to muffle the whimpers.

When you come down enough to open your eyes, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach. Red flushing your cheeks and your chest tightens- you have been caught. His jaw hung open in disbelief at what he just witnessed. This is the final straw, touching yourself in class? Cumming in class- in front of him. There is no hiding the growing bulge in his pants.

Bucky slams shut the textbook, The other students sit in confusion at the sudden outburst from their Professor.

“Make sure you read the rest of the chapter. Class dismissed.” He almost growls.

Bucky takes cover at his desk, covering any evidence of an erection. He pulls a random stack of papers to distract himself from the bulge in his pants.

You hurry to pack away your things- you know that you are in a world of trouble and wish to leave the room as fast as possible.

You pull the bag over your shoulder and head straight for the door, not making eye contact with anyone.

“Ms. Y/L/N. Stay.” His voice booming in the near-empty room.

You freeze in your tracks, holding your breath. You turn around to face the furious man seated behind the desk. The one man that now held all the power to expel you. You feel small and weak the closer you get to his desk. He waits till the last student leaves the room.

“Yes, Professor Barnes?” Anxiety begins to stir in the pit of your stomach.

“We need to discuss your behavior. Follow me.” The demand making you shiver.

Your legs wobble as you follow him to the room just off the lecture hall. It is his office. It is bigger than you have imagined it. The smell of oak and cigars filling your lungs the moment you enter. His dark mahogany desk is the focal point of the room. The walls are decorated with artwork he had collected over the years. The dark brown curtains are pulled shut. The only light source being the two standing lamps on reside on each side of his bookshelf. Knick-knacks covering the surfaces of the shelves and desk.

“Sit.” His voice is stern laced with lust.

The restricting fabric of the briefs and pants makes the bulge painful. You sit in the chair in front of his desk with your ankles crossed and hands in your lap.

“First, you’re late to my class.” He is stalks around you- like your prey. His arms crossed tightly against his chest.

“Then, you wear this provocative dress.” Bucky’s fingers glide up your arm, grazing over the thin strap on your shoulder. His touch burning your skin.

“Then, you proceed to touch yourself in the middle of my lecture- cumming all over yourself like a disgusting little whore.” His words starting up the throbbing.

Bucky leans against the edge of the desk and your eyes are fixated on your lap- not daring to make eye contact.

“I have every right to expel you,” You inhale preparing yourself.

“-but I’m not going to.” Your eyes shoot up meeting his.

They’re filled to the brim with lust and desire. You gain a boost of confidence soars through you with the knowledge that you aren’t getting expelled.

He tilts your chin up to him, getting a better look at you. Using your chin to turn your face to each side- examining the mouth that will soon be full of him.

Bucky runs his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling at it- parting your lips. You push your head forward, taking his thumb in your mouth- closing your lips around him. You hum, innocently locking eyes with him.

You had no idea what you just started.

A devilish grin tugs on the corners of his mouth at the sight of you taking his thumb. You hallow your cheeks, sucking gently.

“What a good little slut.” He purrs. Bucky removes his thumb and stands.

“But, you’re not getting off that easily. Come.”

You stand to your feet moving to stand in front of him. The throbbing increases between your thighs and the arousal seeping through your panties. Bucky looks down at you touching your shoulder and neck. He finally rests his hand on your cheek, rubbing the flesh gently. You swallow, tensing and untensing your jaw. Bucky sense your nerves,

“It’s okay, princess- you’ll only be a little sore.” Your heart skips a beat.

Your panties are now drenched in your wetness and you swear he could hear the throbbing. You dreamt for this day. He pulls your lips to his. Finally meeting yours. It is slow and passionate; you didn’t know if you could touch him- but he has his hands holding the sides of your face.

“On your knees.” His voice is low and dark.

You drop to your knees. You’re now eye to eye with his bulge. The hardened cock makes your mouth water. You lick your lips, looking at him before you reach for his belt. He nods granting you permission. The belt is undone along with the button of his dress pants. Your slow movements have Bucky in a trance. His eyes don’t leave you.

You tug the pants down, his length still trapped behind the black briefs. You feel his length and hear a low groan escapes his mouth. You place small pecks on top of the clothed member. You are salivating with every kiss, growing more eager. The underwear is pulled down, freeing the aggravated cock. It’s red and looks like it is going to burst within seconds. The girth and length surprises you and you begin to wonder if you can even fit him inside you- let alone your mouth. Nerves build within you and hesitantly look up at Professor Bucky.

“I don’t know if it will fit,” Your voice is quiet, he chuckles and lifts your chin once more.

“Make it fit.” His voice is just above a whisper, but dark and stern.

At that moment you realize that this wasn’t going to be a quick punishment. He is going to make you wish you never wore short dresses, late to his class, or cum in front of him. Bucky licks his lips in awe of how beautiful you looked kneeling in front of him. All the fantasies are about to come true.

You take his length in your small hands; you use both hands to warm him up- slowly building him up. The strokes begin slow and sloppy. Your thumb going over his tip. It’s angry and swollen, it’s begging to be drained. You rub small circles around it- mimicking your movements from earlier. Bucky’s breathing becomes slow pants. The pleasure building with each stroke.

You mentally prepare yourself, collecting all the saliva you could to the front of your mouth. You flicker your eyes up, the grin that grows on his face as you close your lips around his tip encourages you. His fingers tangle in your hair, gripping the strands at the root.

“Yes, take my cock in your mouth you filthy slut.” You hum around him.

He begins to slowly push your head closer to his pelvis, forcing you to take more of him. You were only halfway down his shaft when you gripped his thighs for support. Your ankles are crossed behind you and you are leaning back sitting on your feet.

Bucky didn’t care about staying silent. His low grunts and heavy pants left his lips as he grips your hair. The pure bliss he is experiencing is unlike anyone he’s had before. Based on your performance, he knew that you have had experience before. The thought of other men in your mouth drove him insane. His grip on your hair guides your mouth up and down his cock. He became more aggressive with his grip, quickening his pace.

“I just know you’ve been dreaming about my cock filling your mouth, hm? You’re such a stupid slut- wanting to suck your professor’s cock,” He moans.

You’re gagging on his length, trying your hardest to keep from pulling off of him. You hallow your cheeks adding extra pleasure and using one hand to pump the length while he guides your head. The longer you’re taking him in your mouth the less air you’re getting, the veins in your neck become prominent. You dig your nails into his thigh. Bucky hisses at the feeling of your nails sinking into his skin.

“That’s right, princess. You feel so good around my cock,” He purrs watching the tears forming from in the corners of your eyes.

You can’t take anymore without feeling like you were going to choke. Bucky feels the resistance of you attempting to pull off of him. He pushes your head fully down his length, causing a pornographic moan to leave his lips. Bucky yanks the roots of your hair, ripping you off his length. You gasp for air and cough at the sudden ability to breathe. Saliva coats your lips and his thighs.

“You better finish what you started.” Bucky hisses,

You nod wiping your mouth. This time around, he has precum oozing from his tip. You gather it with your thumb and coat the rest of his length, using it as lubrication. You take him once more, this time using both hands and your mouth. The combo is enough to send Bucky into orbit, but when you start sucking his tip and swirling your tongue around it- he knew it would be a matter of seconds before he would release his load.

“You taste so good, Professor.” You hum against his tip, your movements become faster- not bothering with a slow build.

Bucky grips the edge of the desk, you hear the vibranium cracking through the wood. The sound only eggs you on. The sounds of your slurping and moans, cause Bucky to twitch inside your mouth- signaling he is gonna cum at any moment.

Within seconds your mouth is filled with strings of cum. Bucky’s hips buck as your mouth continues to suck him off. The taste of him has become addicting, you want every last drop of him. You pull off of him, wiping up the spilled cum on your chin. Sucking it off of your finger.

“Shit, princess. You did so well finishing every drop.” He pulls you up from your knees.

“-but that doesn’t mean you’re done. You still need to be punished for your behavior in class. Do you understand?” You nod.

Bucky walks behind his desk. You follow, nervous about what your punishment will be.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N. Bend over.” You do as you say.

Your breast smush against the dark wood, your eyes fixated on the photographs of him with family and friends. You smirk to yourself and look back at him. Bucky’s fingers trail up the backs of your thighs. He lifts the pretty blue sundress, finally seeing that perfect ass up close. Bucky’s cock throbs again when he sees that the underwear you’re wearing the cheeky white lace. So innocent, he thought. Bucky runs his palm over the meaty flesh, gripping and jiggling it. He moans at its effortless movement.

“Fuck!” You yelp, his palm makes contact with your ass cheek.

“I told you, princess. You need to be punished. Count them.” Another rough smack.

“Two.” The tears returning to your eyes, but the pleasure overpowers the pain.

You arch your back, wiggling your ass higher in the air, this time, he is able to get a sneak peek of the covered cunt that lived in his mind.

“Three,” This time, your eyes roll back and you’re seeing stars.

Bucky takes notice of just how soaked you are. He pulls the lace with his metal fingers, tearing through them in an effortless tug. The strings of arousal follow the fabric as it is thrown to the ground.

“Oh? You like getting punished? You soaked through your panties. You really are a fucking whore.” He runs his middle finger down your center, your body twitches once he reaches your swollen and needy clit. Bucky kneels, coming face to face with the glistening beauty. His dream is coming to a reality, he is finally going to taste you.

His tongue dips between your folds, causing you to gasp at the unexpected pleasure. Your ass is still in the air and his hands are gripping your inner thigh, pulling them apart, allowing more access to your sopping cunt.

“Just like I imagined it, so fucking sweet.” He is breathless, the taste of you becomes his new favorite flavor.

Bucky’s tongue licks up the access arousal and his thumb rubs small circles around your clit, making you whine against his desk. His mouth begins to place open mouth kisses against you, his tongue dipping inside you. You need something to grip and release the pent-up pleasure but result to releasing through you moans and whines. It is music to Bucky’s ears.

He pulls away from your dripping cunt, kicking your legs open, spreading them- giving him the best access he could get. His mouth returns to you. But this time giving full attention to your clit.

“I’m too big for your hole, princes. I have to stretch you out.” You whine, as his middle and ring finger slide inside you.

You’re a whimpering mess on his desk as his mouth and fingers switched places. His fingers stretching you out and his mouth on your clit. Bucky moans into you at the feeling of your pussy pulsating against his fingers. You are in pure bliss as he pumps his fingers, occasionally curling- hitting the spongey flesh of your g-spot. He swirls his tongue around your clit, sucking on it and releasing it with a pop. You feel yourself hurdling towards your orgasm. The pulsating becomes quicker, and the moans are now endless streams. Bucky knew you’re close to cumming around his fingers, but you had already came today. He removes his fingers and mouth in one swoop, leaving you breathless and irritated.

“You already came today; only well-behaved whores get to cum.”

You stare back at him in anger. Your cheeks are flushed red and you’re panting like you just ran a marathon. He takes amusement at the sight of you looking like a mess.

“Professor, please! I’ve been a good girl!” You whine, wiggling your ass backwards.

“I’ll think about it. It depends on how well you take this cock, princess.” You nod your head, bracing yourself.

Bucky pumps himself a few times before he slides his tip against your cunt. You dreamed of the moment you would feel him inside you. Him sliding into you and filling you up. The need and desire overtaking you and bucking your hips into his cock.

“I said to be good.” A more aggressive smack lands on your ass, this time he used the vibranium. You yelp in pain, knowing there is going to be a handprint on your ass. Branding you.

You gasp at the sudden fullness.

“I was going to be gentle, since you are not used to a cock as big as me, but since you want to be an inpatient slut- now I’m not going too.” Bucky rams his cock into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size.

He grunts at the sound of your whines and whimpers. He grips your hips using it to increase his speed. The purple and red marks form, where his fingers dig into you. Bucky groans at how tight you feel around him. The resistance from your walls getting him closer and closer.

Bucky continues at his pace while, but this time gripping the back of your neck. He tugs you back, lifting you. Your hands palm down on the desk, using it as stability. One of his hands pins your hands behind your back. Bucky pulls you back, flushing your bodies together. His fingers wrap around your neck. Your head falls back against his shoulder moaning at the sensation of his fingers around your throat. Bucky’s rhythm doesn’t slow down now that you’re standing. Your legs are still wide allowing him to go deep and hard.

“You’re such a dirty fucking slut, you know that?” You couldn’t even think.

You have entered another world. Your hands are still pinned behind you and your eyes are rolling back from the feeling of his other. All you could do is moan and sink into his cock.

“Fucking yourself in front of the class and cumming all over yourself- you fucking loved the idea of getting caught huh? I bet you would love someone to walk through that door and catch me fucking your sweet cunt.”

His words only push you further into nirvana. Your legs begin to feel weak, and the responsibility of standing is becoming too much. Bucky notices the sudden inability to stand.

“You gonna cum, princess?” You are barely able to function. You moan in response and he thrusts quicken- if that is even possible.

“Cum, princess. Cum around my cock,”

You see stars as a wave of pleasure washes overtakes you and you feel pure ecstasy. Your cunt contracts around his cock, sending Bucky over the edge. His cock pulsating and shoot loads of cum inside you, filling you once more.

“Fuck!” He moans one last time.

He collapses on top of you. Your hands catching your bodies as you lay pressed against his desk once again. Bucky pulls himself out of you, leaking with cum. You whimper at the sudden loss of fullness.

Your legs felt weak and standing on your own seemed like an impossible task. You are trying to catch your breath. The high cooling off and you regain the ability to talk.

You push yourself up, feeling the cum run onto your inner thigh. Bucky grabs a handful of tissues, wiping away the cum. He helps you sit down on his chair. Your breathing finally slows and the adrenaline wears off. You begin to feel the aftermath of every mark and muscle. You groan as you try to move from the seat.

Bucky walks over to you handing you a bottle of water and switches places with you, so you are now on his lap.

“I told you would be a little sore,” He chuckles, placing a kiss on your temple.

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2K notes · View notes

unloved-cadillac · 3 years

Note

May I request a scenario where Levi & y/n are sleeping together. At a dinner someone asks Levi about his love life & he mentions he’s in a relationship. Y/n thinks he’s talking about someone else, so when they’re in private she decides to end whatever is going on between them bc she doesn’t want Levi to cheat. So Levi has to spell it out that he was talking about her. (:

C/n: I like this. I like it a lot. Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

——————————————————————————

A Secret Love. (Levi x Reader)

Soft lips pampered your neck with kisses as you straddled Levi’s lap. Your hands scratched his undercut, softly moaning at the feeling of his lips, and he moved away from your collarbone to view his artwork.

“You need to buy me more concealer if you’re gonna keep on doing that.” You chuckle and he looks at you. Your flushed cheeks and soft pants made him want to have you then and there. But he had a meeting in a few minutes and he called you in his office for a few seconds of shenanigans.

“Who said I want you to cover it up?” He shoots you a smirk and you roll your eyes. You plant a kiss on his lips and get up from his lap. You go to a mirror and fix your shirt before looking back at him. “Your meeting starts in five. I suggest you go before it starts.” You say and he gets up. “See you later?” He asks before he leaves and you nod.

You would think that you and him were together but that was so not the case. Levi and you had a strict contract about your relationship being only sex. The whole arrangement was just about relieving stress from the corporate business and trying to find some release. At first, everything was fine. Levi would call you to his apartment, spend a few hours there and you would leave. Then you started to stay over. And that turned into just hanging out.

Being his secretary, you always knew where he was and what he was doing. So if he called you into his office, 9 times out of ten, it’s for a quickie. That was it.

Until you started to catch feelings for him.

Each kiss he gave you made your heart jump and the way his hands roamed your body with more sincerity made you fall for him. He genuinely cared about pleasing you, something you weren’t accustom to since most of the jerks you dated last three thrusts and pulled out leaving you unsatisfied and annoyed.

You sat by your desk as Levi went for his meeting, waiting for him to come back. The day was slow and the only thing that he had planned was this big meeting.

Two hours later, Levi comes back to his office with his colleague, Erwin. Erwin was Levi’s childhood friend and now that he was in a similar business position as Levi, they started to see each other at meetings.

“Ms L/n. How lovely to see you again.” Erwin greets and shakes your hand. “Mr Smith. Likewise.” You smile and glance at Levi. “Say, tomorrow night there’s going to be a dinner with many business people. I’m going, Levi’s going and I will love it if you joined.” Erwin says with a smile and you look at Levi. As much as you two had a secret “affair”, he was still your boss. “Uh, I’m going to have to check with my boss first.” You chuckle and Erwin looks at Levi. “Oh, Levi isn’t going to be a pain and not let you come. It’s at the Rose House Restaurant down on Main Street.”

Your eyes widen at the name of it. That was one of the biggest, most expensive restaurants in the city. You would have to book a reservation at least four months prior.

Erwin laughs at your reaction. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you there, Y/n. See you, Levi.” He waves at Levi. “Later, Eyebrows.” Erwin disappears into the elevator and as soon as it descends you feel lips on your neck and arms around your waist. “If you wanted to go that shitty restaurant, you could’ve just asked.” He mumbles and you giggle. You turn in his arms and he lifts you onto your desk, settling in between your legs. “Do you want to go? Honestly I’m contemplating on going but if you want to, we’ll go.” He whispers and you nod. “If it’s not a problem?” He scoffs and kisses you as his hands start to roam. “You’ll never be a problem.” See, it was things like that that made you fall hopelessly in love with him. It sucked because you knew it wasn’t true.

~~~~

The next night, you checked your dress and make up for the umpteenth time and finally decided that you were ready. A simple long black dress with a slit up until your upper thigh with thin straps that crossed against your back made you look like a million bucks.

Your phone dinged and you saw that Levi was outside. You quickly grabbed your purse, checked your lipstick and left the apartment. You walked down the stairs and Levi’s eyes widened. You saw the change in his demeanor and you bit your lip as you twirled around, making him see everything. “What do you think? Not bad for a last minute.” You chuckle and he presses his lips against your hand, like a prince.

“You..look beautiful, Y/n.” He whispers and you don’t know if it’s the car lights or your imagination, but you thought Levi was blushing. You smiled and he opened the door for you and you jumped in. Levi sat in the drivers seat and buckled up. He started the car and a few moments later, laid a hand on your thigh.

It made your heart skip.

~~~~

The restaurant was as beautiful as you imagined. Maybe even better. Levi caught sight of the table and escorted you to it.

“Levi! You made it! Oh, Y/n. Looking amazing.” Hange exclaimed and you laughed. You weren’t expecting to see her here. “Hange?!” You say and she hugs you. “Surprised? Got back yesterday and decided to spend the day with my husband. Moblit says hi by the way.” You let go of Levi’s arm and sit next to her as Levi sat next to Erwin and his father. There were many other business men and woman there and although you were nervous, they were all lovely to talk to and Hange made you loosen up.

The night progressed from business talk to family to relationships. A very sketchy topic for you since you didn’t like to talk about it. There was one woman who was by Levi the whole night and you really tried not to be jealous. He wasn’t yours. So why did you feel the angry, green dragon of jealousy wash over you?

“Damn if I had you on my arm, I’ll never complain about anything ever again.” The woman slurs as she sipped her wine. Levi’s buttons were undone and everyone was relatively drunk so you were waiting for Levi to say “yeah. So let’s get outta here.” or something. Instead, something worse was said.

“Too bad I’m in a relationship.” He says and drinks the rest of his whiskey. Erwin, Hange and Erwin’s father snapped to him. “What?! With who?! Why didn’t you tell us?!” Erwin and Hange ask him and Erwin’s father pats him on his shoulder.

“What’s she like?” Hange asks and Levi groans. “As if I’d tell you.” His eyes glance to you. “Come on Levi! Tell us one thing, at least.”

Levi puts his glass down and clears his throat. “She’s beautiful. Witty and clever. She puts up with my shit and she’s special. Very special.” He says and Erwin smiles. You put your head down, staring at the liquid in your glass as if it held all the answers to the universe.

Levi was in a relationship? And he didn’t tell you? That means, this entire time, he was cheating. The thought made you sick to your stomach because as much as you loved Levi, you respected his unknown girlfriend as well and she didn’t deserve to know that her boyfriend had been banging his secretary for the past months.

“She sounds great, son.” Erwin’s father say and he nods. “She is.” She must really have made a special mark on his heart if he’s talking so much about her. You bite your lip trying to not cry. It hurt. It hurt like someone has stabbed your a thousand time and then proceeded to rip your heart out.

When it was time to leave, you kissed Hange and Erwin goodbye as waved goodbye to all of the people. Levi draped his coat over your shoulders and you froze. “Can only imagine how cold you must be.” He says and you nod. Weird. You always joked about everything and was so carefree so what was the change?

You and Levi walked to his car and before he could open the door for you, you opened it for yourself and sat inside. Levi pulled his eyebrows in, confused at your actions but he didn’t say anything. Rather he just went into the car and drove you home.

The entire ride home, you didn’t utter a single word. Not about the restaurant, not about the food, hell not even about him. Your mind was just trying to find a way to break this off in the calmest way possible.

When Levi parked outside your apartment, he turned the car off and looked at you. “You’ve been quiet all night, what’s wrong?” He asks and you breath in a big breath. “I think...we need to stop whatever this is.” You motion between the two of you and Levi’s heart stops. “What? Why?”

“Levi,” you look at him, dejected and tired, “you’re in a relationship and you didn’t tell me. It’s one thing to be doing this but she doesn’t deserve to be cheated on. She sounds like a great girl, by the way. I hope you and her have a good life together.”

Before he could even get a word in, you take off his jacket and jump out the car. You walked up three steps before your arm was caught by a hand, turning you. You almost fell but Levi caught you. “You really are an idiot.” He whispers and you pull away from his shoulder.

“What?”

“I said that you’re an idiot. How can you say that you’re such a great girl and then leave without me agreeing with you?”

Your lips part and before you could say “what?” Levi pulls you in for a kiss. “It’s you, dummy. I was talking about you,” he murmurs against your lips, “you’re witty and clever. You’re the one who can piss me off and turn me on at the same time. You’re the one who can put up with my shit. You’re the one, Y/n.”

You look deep into his gunmetal eyes, flabbergasted and touched. “Wh-Why didn’t you say anything back at the restaurant then?” Levi scoffs.

“I wasn’t going to officially ask you to be mine in front of a bunch of unknown people. What if you rejected me?” He jokes and you kiss him. Again and again.

“Never. I’ll never reject you.” You softly say as he hums against your lips. “Be mine, Y/n.” “I was already yours.”

You stay enveloped in his arms for a while but then he lifts you up and carries you bridal style to your apartment.

“Now can I show you what you being in that dress did to me the whole night?”

——————————————————————————

“It’s only you who loves me like you do.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

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ahloveisboo · 3 years

Text

point of view (m)

pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

genre: 18+, friends with benefits!au, smut (mentions of choking, mirrors, alcohol consumption, swearing, implicit condom use. always be safe, kids!)

wc: 1.6k

summary: you just can’t seem to quit soonyoung.

a/n: this soonyoung is system!soonyoung but you don’t need to read one to understand the other as these are just in the same timeline, happening simultaneously. (also, ALWAYS make sure you have discussed any kind of choking with your partner beforehand bc it needs to be consensual and not something to be taken lightly or done inexperienced)

"She's going to fucking kill me."

Soonyoung giggles against your neck, his hand under your skirt as you try very hard not to think of the repercussions of ditching your best friend and focus on his teeth scraping over your sensitive skin. "All the more reason to make this one worth it," Soonyoung notes, tilting his head to capture your lips.

You groan into his touch, as you have done many times before. It's not like you didn't try to fight it—you really did, because you're not the meaningless flirt type of person, but something about Kwon Soonyoung just keeps pulling you in, over and over and over again. The first time you blamed it on the alcohol, the second time on the way his hips swayed in time with yours, his breath fanning over the back of your neck, but there was no excuse for the third time (or fourth or fifth).

Soonyoung has you in a figurative chokehold and a part of you relished it. To be in someone else's mercy and not have to think for a few blissful moments. The buttons of his jeans are already popped, his shirt loosely hanging over the front where you pulled it free. His tongue tastes like Redbull, the sickeningly sweet tinge of it mixed with vodka evident as he laps into your mouth.

You suck on his bottom lip, gently letting your teeth graze along the skin until he hisses, licking his lips to ease the sting.

"We really should get back to the party," you say, unbuttoning your blouse as Soonyoung casts his hooded gaze downwards, where his hand still lingers on your thigh. "I don't want people getting the wrong idea."

"Oh, darling," Soonyoung's voice is low and sultry, his tongue thick in his mouth. "That ship has sailed a long time ago." He accentuates his words with another kiss. "I think people expect us to fuck at every party we go to by now."

"You're gross," you say, unable to bite back a smile. You allow your blouse to fall from your shoulders. "Now take off your shirt."

Soonyoung complies willingly, notably flinching when your cold palm comes up to rest against his chest. "You know I like it dirty, baby," he says in response to your first statement, and this time you laugh out loud. You swat at his chest, covering your mouth to hide your laughter as you dip your head back. There’s a goofy grin on his face as he watches you, your eyes squeezed shut and cheeks rising.

“We’re literally in a bathroom, please don’t talk about dirty right now,” you plead before he moves to grab your ass and lifts you to sit on the sink, pushing up your skirt with his thumbs.

“Still beats Mingyu’s bedroom closet,” he reminds you, hands roaming over your exposed skin as he re-attaches his lips to your throat. You move your hand to his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape. You hum at the memory, gently tugging at the locks to pull him away from you. “Yeah,” you muse, breath ghosting over Soonyoung’s lips as you move closer. “Why can’t everyone have a private beach house like Minghao?”

Your tongue flicks out to tease his upper lip, leaning back when he chases your mouth for more. He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing in this throat, and his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs in frustration. His gaze finds yours, temporarily robbing you of your breath. He’s so beautiful, even without the visible flush now painting his cheeks, but in this state - eyes hooded and throat adorned with angry red marks - he looks to die for.

Soonyoung must’ve thought the same thing because he inhales sharply, as if he suddenly realises something. Brushing a lock of hair out of your face, he smirks. “Fuck, I wish you could see yourself right now. You’re so hot.” You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, something stirring in the pit of your stomach at his words. He brings you in for a kiss, deepening it with a determination that leaves your head spinning. With his hands on your ass, he pulls you against him, letting you feel how needy he is for you. “Do you-” he breathes between kisses, “do you want to watch?”

You still at the question, unsure of what he’s asking. “Hm?”

But Soonyoung is not looking at you, you realise. His eyes are trained on the mirror behind you, his fingers nimbly working to push your skirt up enough to get a full view of your ass in the reflection. Jeonghan’s bathroom isn’t necessarily big, but it’s big enough to have a double sink with a big mirror that’s lined with tiny light spots, perfect for putting on make-up or your daily skincare routine. You bite your lip, mulling over the implications of his question in your head. “You look so pretty when you cum,” Soonyoung continues, his tongue trailing over your exposed collarbones. “I want you to see how pretty you are when I fuck you.”

With a jerk of his hips, the last of your hesitation crumbles, and he almost misses the way you nod before letting yourself slip off the vanity top, pressing your bodies together impossibly close. Soonyoung winds his fingers in the strands of your hair, gently tugging at them as he breathes you in. At last, his hands fall to your hips, turning you around in one swift motion. The action causes you to topple forward, your hands seeking support on the cold marble top. For a second you pause, feeling Soonyoung’s cock brush against your ass from behind, his hands still firm on your hips as he waits for you to make the next move. You slowly raise your eyes, locking with his in the reflection and he smirks.

It’s exhilarating, the way Soonyoung never breaks eye contact—not when he moves to cup your breasts, playing with your hardening nipple as he sucks at the sweet spot behind your ear. Not when he finally pushes your skirt down and his jeans with it, a hand dipping into your panties to rub between your folds. Not when his fingers wrap around your throat, gently squeezing as he bucks into you, until you’re no longer able to indulge him; your eyes fluttering shut as you feel the muscles in your thighs tighten. A strangled moan forms in the back of his throat as you push your hips back to meet his and his knees almost buckle, making him collapse against your shoulder. The obnoxious sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with Soonyoung’s heavy breathing and the rapid succession of his name spilling from your lips, increasing in pitch as you get closer to release.

"You're so fucking hot," he breathes, voice ragged when he speaks. "And so wet." He tilts your chin up with two fingers, using the ones holding onto your hip to give it a little pinch. Your eyes widen at the sudden pain and Soonyoung smiles as he soothingly rubs the skin. "Do you see?"

Your eyes reconnect in the mirror, the look he's giving you shooting straight to your core. You tip your head forward to catch his fingers in your mouth, licking around the digits slowly. Soonyoung almost climaxes right there and then, but his pride doesn't allow him to cum until you do.

You're close, though and it only takes a few extra flicks to your clit for you to come undone. Your jaw slacks in a final, drawn-out moan as you throw your head back, your back bumping into Soonyoung’s sweaty chest. He follows soon after, placing idle open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder to muffle his own sounds.

A moment passes, Soonyoung’s arm wrapped around your torso to keep you steady, both of you catching your breath. He lets out an airy laugh, his eyes locking with yours again over your shoulder. You reciprocate the sentiment, a chuckle escaping you before you allow his fingers to guide your head sideways enough for Soonyoung to plant a kiss to your mouth. This one is softer, laced with content and satisfaction. You curse Soonyoung for being so damn intoxicating and you know, no matter how hard you try, this will happen again next time and again the next time over.

Maybe you’re okay with it, though. You watch him with curiosity as he gets dressed, smoothing out the crinkles in your own blouse in the process. Something stirs inside your chest when he leans over to peck you on the lips. The corner of his mouth quirks into a smile before pushing the bathroom door open, glancing at you over his shoulder. The previously muffled music washes over you in loud waves, and you allow Soonyoung to take your hand.

“Let’s see what stage of murderous your bestie has reached by now and if she needs any rescuing.”

You laugh at his comment, internally hoping you didn’t fuck up too much by leaving her to herself in a house full of people she hardly ever spoke to. The thought gets put on hold as you’re met with the sight of her pressed against Joshua—the Joshua Hong, who she’s been crushing on for months in secret—his hand in her hair and lips locked. You hear Mingyu and Seungcheol hooting loudly, but she seems unbothered by the ruckus they’re causing.

Soonyoung pushes through the crowd, grabbing a red cup with a mysterious content from the table as he passes his friends. He bumps into Joshua’s shoulder with a smug grin. “Do you guys ever breathe?” he yells over the music.

Joshua visibly tenses, your best friend pulling away from him with a look he can’t quite read. Her fist raises threateningly in his direction, and Joshua laughs heartily before stopping her.

“Soonyoung,” he says, patiently but a tone to his voice that implies he’s not joking around. “I’ll give you a headstart if you start running now.”

#kwon soonyoung #caratwritersclub #svtwritersnet #hoshi #soonyoung smut #soonyoung scenario #soonyoung fanfiction #soonyoung drabble #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung imagines #hoshi smut #hoshi imagine #hoshi drabble #hoshi scenario #hoshi x reader #seventeen #seventeen soonyoung #seventeen hoshi

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heauxzenji · 4 years

Note

Not to uhhhh be horny on main but do you think... maybe... you could write a morning sex Drabble about Suga? 👉🏼👈🏼

Anon... listen. You have made my day, week, month, LIFE... bless you and this request.

Breakfast of Champions

Pairing: Sugawara Koushi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut. SMUTTY SMUT. A lil fluffy at some parts but mostly about sucking if you will

Warnings: NSFW, blowjobs

A/N: this is probably the most self indulgent thing I have ever written but thanks anon for requesting I guess I wrote this for you but also... I definitely wrote this for me but I’m also gonna say I wrote it for @sugawarasimp bc sisterwives.

Anyway also ty to @lydzisanerd for being an angel and giving it a once over ilysm 💕 and as always my taglist angels @scorpiosanssexy @super-noya @nonexistent-social-life

You tried not to wake him as you lay next to him. Looking over at the clock across the room, you noticed that it was barely 7 am. Great. Sugawara was next to you fast asleep. Knowing he was a light sleeper, you thought that turning on the tv would cause him to stir. Slowly, you slid yourself out of the bed, taking a clean pair of his boxers from the bedside table and heading toward the bathroom to start your morning routine. The blinds were drawn in the bedroom, but small rays of sunlight trickled throughout the bathroom, brightening it enough to be able to see where everything was. After washing your face, you grabbed your toothbrush from beside the sink and began to brush. Walking back into the bedroom, you noticed Suga still slumbering in the spot where you left him, his side of the bed covered in his student’s work. He had fallen asleep with his glasses on, a habit he had picked up when he would be up late grading. He only used his glasses to read, but you always thought they made him look even hotter.

Then, a sly smile washed over you face as you looked at him again. Then the clock. 7:15. If you were awake- there was no reason he shouldn’t be either... so why not wake him up?

Creeping back into bed, you hovered over Suga’s abdomen and looped your hand around the waistband of his underwear. While still covered, you slid a hand across his length. The thought of surprising him like this made you grow damp, and the feel of him hardening under your touch made your mouth water for him. Slowly and silently, you slid his boxers down just enough to expose himself to you fully. He was at full attention. Making sure to move gently, you parted your lips and took wrapped them lightly around the tip, finishing with a kitten lick and looking up at him to make sure he was still asleep. Then, you licked a long, slow stripe up the base of him, trying your hardest not to let your hunger for him overtake your senses. He stirred a bit, moaning something inaudible, but falling right back into his slumber. You stopped for a moment to steady you breathing, and instead began to pump him in your hand. Every move you made was painstakingly slow. You slid your mouth down onto him again, a bit further this time, coming up at a moderate pace and flicking your tongue around the tip before going down again, this time all the way. You started bobbing your head even faster, looking up to see Suga tossing his head back, eyes finally fluttering open to the sight of you going down on him.

"F-F-Fuuuuck," he hissed, his hands finding his way to your hair as you came up for air and slid up to meet his face.

"Mmmmhmmm?," was the only thing you said before going back down to wrap your hand around his shaft.

“Feeling good?"

"Y\N..... angel don’t tease.”

You could hear the sleep in his voice as he moaned your name out each time you went deep. There was something about the way he let your name spill from his lips amongst the stream of profanities that turned you on even more, causing your walls to ache and your pussy grow wetter each time it happened. You hummed onto him, moaning as you used your other hand to touch yourself, earning a raised eyebrow from your boyfriend.

“Want some help with that, babe?"

"Nope," you replied, continuing to jerk him of with one hand, and rub figure-8's on your clit with the other. Of course you wanted him, but you could wait.

“This morning is all about you."

Your voice was filled with Lust as you moaned into him again, sucking and pumping him at the same time, going faster and faster as he came undone underneath you. You felt him start to throb on your tongue, and he reached his hands to your head again and bucking his hips upward, pushing himself further and further down your throat. He hardly ever fucked your face, but he couldn’t help himself. You knew what was coming, and you couldn’t wait. You positioned yourself right above him and went all the way down. As he hit the back of your throat, you gagged, sending him over the edge and causing him to spill over into it. The warm thickness of his cum slid down easily, and you wiped your lip to lick off the excess. Suga was still panting beside you as you lay back down. Stroking his hair, you uttered a cheery good morning. He looked at you in awe.

“Good morning to you too babe,” he said, finally removing his glasses and sitting upright.

“To what do I owe the glorious wake up call?”

Kissing him instead of responding, you got up from the bed and began to organize the mess of papers that lie on the floor next to him.

“Want breakfast? I can make us homemade waff-"

Suga grabbed your arm and spun you onto the bed, pinning you. He gazed up and down at the loose clothes hanging from your body.

“I think I know what I'm hungry for, and it isn't waffles," he said, biting his lip and positioning you just the way he wanted- one leg up and the other to the side, with him on the edge of the bed perfectly aligned with your glistening cunt. Always one to return the favor, he went to work, devouring your already soaked core. Right before you closed you eyes to go dead to everything except Suga and his magic tongue of his, you looked at the clock. 7:59 turned to 8:00 on the dot. A perfect way to start the day- sex is the breakfast of champions after all.

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu fic #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#sugawara koushi #sugawara x you #sugawara x reader #hq suga #hq sugawara #haikyuu headcanon #haikyuu hc #haikyuu smut #sugawara x fem!reader #thinkin about kissin #nonny nonn #sugawara mood

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 36)*

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+ Smut, there’s a top and it definitely isn’t Ivar, and then the usual

A/N: Yeah, so, if you don’t want or can’t read the explicit part, under the ____ it’s just the aftermath. Even then, nothing important plot-wise happens in this chapter, so don’t worry about skipping it.

I’m so so sorry I posted this so late, but yeah, life got in the way of my schedule lol. I’m not too happy with this, mainly bc I don’t really like the smut I write, but yeah, here it is, and I hope you enjoy!

“I want you,” He tells you, gaze falling back to your lips. He steals another kiss, and when he pulls back, he repeats the words you told him, “However I can have you.”

You stay frozen at his words, slowly trailing your eyes from his lips to meet his eyes. Still, no words leave your lips, except a muted gasp that leaves you looking at Ivar with parted lips and wide eyes.

“Do you want me?” He presses, searching your gaze.

Your first instinct is to scoff, to accuse him of putting you on the spot when he knows the answer.

But you know better, and you understand it is hard for him to believe he is wanted, and you hear the request for reassurance.

“Of course I do,” You tell him, before offering a smile that may be a little hungry but no one can blame you. “Since Aneridge, Ivar. And since I’ve had…this, you,” You prove your own point by letting your hand freely explore the warm skin of his chest as you continue, “Just having you within reach, just this, makes me want you so much I ache.”

His pale eyes search yours, you know a part of him still expecting the hint of a lie, but there’s a hungry edge to the darkness in Ivar’s eyes that makes a thrill run down your spine.

Eventually, the slightest curve of a smile on his lips. Daring, arrogant.

“Show me.”

You take a deep breath, and lean closer, but stop just shy of kissing him.

Your eyes open to meet his, and you know in your gaze shines a challenge. Much like the kiss you shared before he departed for Strepshire, you both remain tethered to one another, waiting for the other to cave.

When he refuses to be the one to do so, you still cross the remaining distance and kiss him.

You kiss him hungrily, chasing the arrogant smile of his lips and replacing it with the soft sound you draw out of him when you pull away.

Breaths heavy, you tangle your fingers in Ivar’s hair and guide his head back. He complies so easily you feel heat pooling low in your belly, especially when you catch the way his eyes flutter shut at the sting of your sharp pull on his hair.

“More than any other man in my life, I want you. You insufferable, stubborn man,” You tell him with a smile you seal in a kiss against the tantalizing skin of his neck. “So handsome, so strong, so-…Gods, Ivar, I love everything about you.

You silence whatever protest he was going to voice by doing what you’ve wanted to do since Aneridge. You bite down softly on the soft skin of his neck, making a choked little sound leave his lips, and making him crane his head further back as if to give you more of him.

“So of course I want you,” You sentence, continuing as if your voice doesn’t tremble with need and your thoughts aren’t clouded by him. You lean back just enough to be able to look at him, to take in the parted lips that bear in them the mark of your kiss, to delight yourself in the way his pale blue eyes threaten to flutter shut. You smile, and as a whisper, a confession, you finish, “I want you so much, just one kiss from you makes me so wet, so desperate for you.”

His eyes widen at your last words, and his lips part as he stares up at you. Without even touching him you cloud his gaze with desire and hunger, without anything other than your words you put him under a spell; and you can’t help thinking that the Gods really shouldn’t have let you taste power like this.

“S-Show me.” He asks, sharp breaths leaving his lips. Ah, and so different from how he asked you to show you last, isn’t he?

If in the sigh you let out is masked a choked moan, no one can blame you.

Lifting yourself off his lap on your knees, you take Ivar’s hand and guide it between your legs, biting your lip when you feel the faintest touch of him against you.

His fingers are cold, and even in the hesitant trace they draw on you they manage to make electricity run through your veins. You shudder slightly, and Ivar lifts his eyes to look at you.

“I want to…I want to pleasure you,” He tells you, certain and yet dazed as his eyes roam over your expression, “Show me how.”

Gods.

Hushed words and gentle movements of your hips guide his fingers into the way to touch you, and with your hands on his shoulders, you tilt your head back and surrender tohis touch, unable to keep the soft sounds of pleasure from leaving your lips.

As you climb higher and higher, your control dissipates, your legs tremble, your breath shakes each time it leaves your lips, hurried and desperate.

And before you think twice about it your hand reaches for Ivar’s wrist, demanding control of the way he moves his fingers against you, and you move above him, unable to stop the faint thrusts of your hips as you bring yourself closer and closer.

You call out his name as you come undone, and it is the only sound you hear past the beating of your own heart in your ears.

You open your eyes slowly, as if awakening from a dream, pliant and dazed and still lost in him. And you find Ivar looking at you with wide eyes, his breaths quickened, a blend of fascination and desire written in his expression.

It robs you of breath and thought yet again, the way he looks at you. Hungry, awed, reverent, wanting.

Caught in the spell of his gaze, you dazedly watch as Ivar moves his hand from under your skirt.

He brings his fingers to his lips without any hesitation.

The sight of Ivar tasting you on his own fingers makes your breath get stuck in your throat, and you watch him with wide eyes and quickened breaths.

You have no idea what you look like now, but you have a feeling you look ravenous and wrecked. You feel that way.

He kisses you passionately, hungrily, yet slowly, as if to savor the moment even as fire runs in both your veins. You for once surrender, letting him angle your head to meet his kiss, letting his tongue invade your mouth and dance with yours. Letting him take your breath and everything you are in this kiss.

When he pulls back you smile, and a bit of your certainty returns to you. The Gods really shouldn’t let mortals taste this kind of power.

“Undo my dress.” You tell him before stealing another kiss and leaning back. The trace of his fingers down your back as he undoes the laces of your dress is a familiar one, but what isn’t familiar is the way his fingers shake just a bit, or the way he leaves trails of lightning running through your skin at the faintest of his touches.

Moving off the bed to stand at its side, you let the dress fall down to the floor, you let yourself be exposed to the same hungry blue eyes of that first time so many months ago when you did just this.

Only this time you don’t feel the need to hide, only this time there’s reverence past the hunger, and there’s something softer past the desire.

Ivar stares up at you in silence for a few breaths, before his eyes roam over all of you, naked want written in his gaze, and when his eyes return to meet your own, you notice something like awe and need in the way he looks at you.

You feel like a Goddess in human form, you feel as divine as the maiden that made of a God nothing but a man, you feel powerful and wanted and his.

When you get back on the bed Ivar doesn’t leave you much time to adjust, his hands settling comfortably at your waist and with the same ease as that first time lifts you and puts you on your back on your side of the bed.

He crawls over you, and you don’t hesitate to part your legs and use one of your own to help him settle in the cradle of your hips.

But the hand not holding him up doesn’t venture between your legs just yet, and instead cups your breast, sending a pang of heat through you.

You gasp against his lips, and you could swear Ivar smiles proudly.

Before long he starts moving down, exploring -much in the way you did, before he stopped you- all of you with lips and tongue. Your breaths are sharp and a little shaky, and your hand tangles in his loose hair.

One last kiss under your bellybutton, and he looks up at you again. The sight of him, lips bitten and cheeks tinted red, with his eyes dark as he looks up at you from so close between your legs; it won’t ever leave you.

You don’t want that sight to leave you, if you are honest.

“I want to taste you.”

He starts repeating the touches you guided his fingers into with his tongue and lips against you, and you can’t help but cry out as pleasure builds up inside you again, making you feel exposed and raw and desperate.

You have scarcely felt so tethered and yet so close to dissolving as you do now.

Before long the knot in your core tightens, and you are dangling over a precipice. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and the sting of pain makes var let out a soft little sound against you, a little hum that reverberates through you.

You feel like you’re falling over that precipice, and your back arches off the bed as you are lost in the pleasure he gives you.

Breaths heavy, you come down from your high, tugging on Ivar’s hair with a noise of complaint when he licks a trace up your sensitive skin.

He breathes a chuckle against the inside of your thigh, before crawling back up over you.

You will never cease to lose your breath at the way Ivar looks at you, dazed and enthralled and starving and yours.

This time it is you who kisses him, who demands with teeth and tongue what he freely gives. This time it is you who claims his mouth over and over, drawing the softest of sounds and stealing his breath and his every thought. This time it is you who puts your hands certain and unwavering on him and makes him fall on his back.

You straddle him, and your hands are desperate and greedy as they trace over the exposed skin of his chest, your lips are demanding and hungry as they demand the feel of his kiss.

You lose track of time in kissing him, making him surrender to the press of your lips on his. And though you are sated and your body plaint and still tingling with the aftermath of the pleasure he brought you, you want him to feel it too.

This time your hands are rougher as they reach down for him, and this time he doesn’t stop you before you can reach him.

Over the linen of his pants, you touch him, your hand putting just enough pleasure for him to feel you, and for you to feel the outline of his cock, that you could swear starts to harden further under your touch.

Ivar parts from your lips, but it isn’t to tell you to stop, and instead he moans your name. A name you kept secret from him for so long, but now you hear reverberating from his chest like a prayer.

His head lolls to the side and you take advantage of it, kissing right on the edge of his jaw, intending to move downwards as your hands moves over him again, making his hold on you tighten.

This time it is no illusion, no mistake. His cock starts to harden under your touch, and you press a little harder, delighted in the way you make him gasp.

“S-Stop.” He tells you, and his voice is no longer hoarse because of desire, he no longer sounds dazed and instead sounds wretched.

You immediately stop, leaning back, and Ivar grabs your wrist again, moving you away from his cock. And though his eyes meet yours for a moment, they fall to somewhere above you before long, and he swallows thickly.

You say his name softly, quietly, trying to beckon him back to the safety you were able to lull him into just now, trying to make him forget with your voice alone any other moment that wasn’t one he shared with you.

But the roots of the pain that night caused him run deeper than you could ever begin to understand, and he shakes his head, teeth gritted and resolute.

“You know I can’t.”

“Ivar, there’s no reason to believe you can’t,” You insist, even though your voice is softer, and your touches are soothing. “If you’d just trust me-…”

“I do trust you. I trust you more than anyone,” He interrupts, meeting your eyes again. Something shaky and afraid shines in his pale blue eyes, and his brow trembles as he insists, “But I can’t, love. I-I can’t, it will fail, I will f-fail, and I-…”

You silence the words that start to become jumbled and panicked with a soft press of your lips on his. Leaning your brow against his, your hands cupping the sides of his face, you meet his eyes.

A part of you wants to push, wants to make him see there is no reason to believe he is unable to do it, wants to have him understand there is nothing to lose and no shame in trying, wants to prove to him that even if you try and fail nothing changes.

But you feel like you did that day you saw him break a bone, where if you are as the years have made you -insistent, relentless, stubborn- you may hurt him or become yet another memory that haunts him even today, and if you are as nature made you -soft, gentle, loving- you may just be letting him fall deeper into a certainty that haunts him as much as the memory that gave him it.

You may find a place to stand between those two parts of you, a way to prove to him he can give in and trust you to keep him safe no matter the outcome; but this is all so new, and you’re both still stumbling in the dark, and you don’t think today is the day.

So with a caress of your fingers over the scar on his cheekbone, you whisper,

“You could never fail me, Ivar, no matter what. But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” He searches your gaze, but after a moment nods his head once, as if accepting your words. You offer a smile, “And I…I told you the night of our wedding: you don’t need a cock to sleep with a woman, and you…Gods, love, you more than proved that.”

The reassurance of how he satisfied you, the gentle praise, makes him lose some of the tension in his frame. With your heart beating a little slower and your breathing a little easier, you kiss him softly again, promising your love against his lips with hushed words that Ivar doesn’t hesitate to seal against his own lips when he kisses you again.

____

Later in the night, still intertwined and almost unwilling to part or to move, you relax against the bed with Ivar’s head resting against your stomach, his arms around your middle.

Your hands run rhythmically through his hair, and -almost as a proof he isn’t asleep yet- Ivar turns his face and kisses your skin with a soft hum.

After a few breaths, he takes a deep breath, and confesses in the low light of your room,

“I won’t be able to have children.”

And it is the pain in his voice, the grief for what he believes he can’t have, the hoarse whisper that speaks of anger and sorrow; that makes you speak without even thinking about it.

“Sieghild is my mother. She didn’t birth me, but she raised me, and made me who I am. I am not of her blood, but I am her daughter,” He rests his chin on your stomach to look up at you, and you pretend not to notice the glimmer in his eyes as he searches yours, hanging on to your every word. Without doubt, you promise, “A seed doesn’t make a father, Ivar. We can have children, and they may not have your eyes or your hair, but they will have your drive and your strength and your intelligence. And you will be their father, and they will carry your legacy.

The smile your words draw on his lips is a little wobbly and a little frail, but it still makes your heart flutter. He rests his head on your stomach again, you think in no small measure to hide his face from you, but you don’t mind.

Your fingers run through his loose hair soothingly, and you vow,

“A hundred years from now, their children and their children’s children will still speak your name, tell your story.”

He remains silent, and deadly still, for a long while after that. But, eventually, Ivar moves in his place to settle better against you, and his hands travel over your sides as his arms wrap around you again.

“These look painful.” He mumbles, fingers skimming over the burn marks on the side of your back. Granted, you can’t feel much of his touch, but you can see him.

“I was lucky. They got me out on time. Well, on time would have been before they burned half of me, right?” You offer a chuckle that feels hollow, but Ivar doesn’t smile. Wasn’t very funny, anyways. You shrug, “But it was in time, Narses got me out in time. He burned his hands.

You don’t know why you’re after almost to years still so focused on how he injured his hands getting you down form that pyre.

You also don’t know why you are suddenly so unable to stop talking.

“They did a lot for me, during those first weeks. I couldn’t talk, could barely move. They…they did a lot of work to leave the scars as faint as they could.”

Ivar doesn’t say anything, remains silent with his eyes still tracing over the burn marks on your side.

You almost start talking again when he mentions, “You never talk about these.”

“What is there to tell?”

“How you survived, for one.”

“I…don’t know. Maybe I didn’t,” You confess, voice low. He raises his eyes to meet yours, a question written in the furrow between his brows, and you smile slightly, fingers reaching up and tracing his frown. “You told me once that I had died the moment you brought me to Kattegat, that I was no longer in a place my past could reach me. That the Priestess was dead.

And you cannot help but think of the woman you once were, ambition and ruthlessness barely held in place by soft skin and warm eyes. The woman that fooled the most powerful man in Attica into loving her, the woman that achieved all she wanted with but a promise of love. The woman that, if she were alive today, would have Ivar’s army doing her bidding just as she had had Narses’.

The woman that you see shining in deep blue eyes when you look at Freydis.

Returning to Greece from the Silk Roads made you cold, made you something other, something that you still are. But it is not all you are anymore, because the flames remade you too.

Maybe you did die in that pyre in Eleusis. Maybe all that has happened in between then and now has been but your descent.

Maybe there can be a life to be lived amongst the dead, at least as long as winter lasts and the Goddess of Spring makes life blossom in the realm of the dead.

And so, you tell Ivar, “I died then, or…who I was did.”

“Hmm. And what happens when a Hiereia dies?”

“We go to the Underworld. Each winter and each spring are spent in Lord Hades’ kingdom.” You tell him, feeling a pang of something in your chest, something bittersweet that reminds you of finding Persephone’s statue in the woods of Eleusis and realizing that in the years you had been gone nature had overtaken it, the realm to which they said she belonged had twisted and torn at what made her shape and her throne.

Your fingers run over Ivar’s hair as he lays his head back on your stomach, closing his eyes; and you sigh, relaxing against the bed.

It feels like cleansing the old stone of the vines and the invasive nature, the breath you let out. It feels like shaking fingers furiously reclaiming the statue for what it was, not what the years and the earth under its feet tried making out of it.

____ ____ ____

So yeah, hope it was okay! Thank you so much for reading! Hope you liked it!

I’m sorry if you’re dissapointed they stopped, but it didn’t fit them to go the full way rn because yeah, I don’t think Ivar is ready for that yet. I do think it would still be important for Ivar to know he can satisfy a woman, y’know?

And yeah, she said ‘we can have children’ not ‘you can have children’. Ivar certainly didn’t miss that choice of words, though she did.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss @itsmysticalmystery @revolution-starter @chibisgotovalhalla @the-a-word-2214 @fae-sedai @crazybunnyladysworld @funmadnessandbadassvikings @stupiddarkkside

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #νοσταλγία masterlist

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satendou · 4 years

Text

⟼ the symbol for love

⟼ the language of flowers | next

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: akaashi/reader

⇢ au: florist!akaashi, college!au

⇢ summary: akaashi’s love language is that of flowers

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: mutual pining, flowers, soft smut

⇢ word count: 8.3k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: okay full disclosure, this fic only exists bc @keijiskitten sent in a picture of akaashi surrounded by flowers at the same time that i was talking about a roommate au. we talked more about it and she suggested confessing via flowers and i went overboard with it. this is another one i’m rather fond of and was written mostly with her in mind. so thank her for the idea!

It started off with heather, hyacinths, and jasmine.

Opening the door to the apartment you had been sharing with one Akaashi Keiji for the last seven months, you were hit with the delicate bouquet of fresh flowers, purple and blue and white, all artfully arranged in a vase on the coffee table.

“Ah, those are so pretty, Akaashi,” you murmured to the man reading a book on the couch. It was a battered copy of 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne and he was already halfway through it. The TV played a black and white movie, the volume turned so low you could hear only the soft crackle of sound playing through the speakers. “What are they?”

Occupied with taking off your shoes, you missed the faint pink dust that crept over his cheeks at your praise. By the time you turned back around, it had disappeared. He had closed the book and pulled the vase closer to him, slender fingers pulling three different stems out of the container and laying them across his palm.

“Heather,” he said, handing you the purple flower. “Jasmine.” The white one was handed to you. “And lastly, hyacinths.” The final blue flower was handed over, and you held them to your nose, inhaling deeply. Your eyes fluttered and a soft smile crossed your lips as you looked over them at him.

“And what do these mean?” you asked, a teasing edge to your voice. Akaashi was both a book and flower lover, so you knew that there were meanings behind the bouquet, right down to the number of flowers. “They smell so sweet.”

Akaashi chuckled at that. He always loved your reactions to his arrangements. They were so pure and genuine, like the flowers he handled on a daily basis, and oh so fragile. Over the course of the last few months, he had picked up on your habits and emotions, noting each time you felt anxious you would pick at the skin of your lips and run your fingers through your hair, or how when you were feeling extra tired you would just throw your hair up in a messy bun or a ponytail and go about your business. His favorite by far though was when you were relaxed and at ease-- when your face would soften, your eyes would brighten, and you would look at him with a smile that squeezed his heart.

“They were for a customer today and I just liked the arrangement,” he answered, and the lie tumbled from his lips with such ease that it almost scared him. “But they mean beauty and solitude, love, and playful and sincere.” He pointed out each flower as he spoke its meaning, in the order that he had handed them to you, resisting the urge to graze his fingers across your knuckles.

He caught the flustered glint in your eyes as you stared at them and smiled in response. That was the look he adored and he worked his hardest to bring it out as often as possible, especially lately. Finals were coming up and he had never seen you more stressed and harried, staying out and up late studying or finishing assignments. The bags under your eyes caused him some concern, and he did his best to help you with things, but with a flower shop to run it wasn’t easy.

“Did you have any plans tonight? We could order in, if you want,” he offered, and hoped that the desire was well hidden from his voice. It was the weekend, and usually you spent Friday nights with your friends. That didn’t stop him from asking, though.

“Oh I’m sorry, I have a group project I have to work on,” you answered, and handed back the flowers that were still clasped in your hands. “I only came home to change and then I’m leaving.”

His heart fell, but he managed to keep his face straight. “Oh okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Uh, well I don’t know how late I’ll be, so don’t wait up,” you answered, your face the embodiment of apologetic. You wanted so badly to take him up on it, to get a break from the grueling hours of endless work, but the project needed to be handed in on Monday and no one wanted to be working on it all weekend-- not when there was studying and other assignments to be completed.

He could see the weariness on your face and took your hand in his, feeling his heart stutter when you squeezed back. Giving you a small smile, he said, “You can do this. Just a few more weeks and you’ll have a break. Just hang in there.”

“I know,” you said as you moved away from him, walking down the hall towards your bedroom. “Thank you for supporting me, ‘Kaashi. It means a lot.”

Then you were out of sight, the bedroom door closing with a soft click behind you and Akaashi was left staring at the flowers that spelled out all of the emotions he himself couldn’t express.

Two weeks later, you came into the apartment after a day full of nothing but stressful exams and irritable professors. On top of that, your thesis topic had been denied and you were more than a little anxious about trying to find a new one.

As observant as ever, Akaashi picked up on your mood the moment you texted him and frowned, looking at the bouquet he was currently working on. It was massive, standing taller than him and bursting with colors of all sorts. All of them symbolized love, cherishment, and a hope for the future. It was the final order for a wedding but he couldn’t care less about it all of a sudden.

Sending you a short message back, he returned to it, eyebrows now furrowed in concentration over on a different train of thought. Wracking his brain as best he could, he finished the arrangement up and called one of his employees to take it to the back, where it would be loaded up and taken to the venue.

He helped put up the flowers on display in the coolers and then shooed the others out of the shop, flipping the sign on the door to ‘closed’. Moving into the back of the now empty shop, he pondered the flowers in stock, pinching delicate petals between his fingers as he went over the meanings for each.

Love, good health, solitude, remembrance-- it was easy for him to recall each, and he smiled as he landed on the ones he wanted. With a grace and quickness honed by years of practice, he put a small bouquet together, hoping that this small token would bring you some comfort.

And if that didn’t work, takeout from your favorite place probably would.

The door opened two hours after you had first texted Akaashi telling him your bad news. The response you had received had been lackluster, further souring your mood, and you were currently sprawled out on the couch moping with a mug of his tea.

Raising your brow at the way he held his hand behind his back, you took the bag he offered, instantly recognizing your favorite smells wafting from it. Your stomach grumbled, and you offered him a repentant smile because you knew he now knew you had neglected to eat that day.

Instead of saying anything about it, he just frowned before showing you what was behind his back, setting it on the table beside the bag, and your face lit up.

Pink, purple, and white seemed to pop in comparison to the rest of the room, vibrant and fresh, and you reached out, pulling one of each flower from the vase. The food sat forgotten on the table for the time being as you inhaled the blooms’ scents before offering them to him.

“Well, what are they and what do they mean?” you asked, and he chuckled at the enthusiasm written across your face. Over the last few weeks, it had become something of a ritual for him to bring home a few flowers for you, laying them on the coffee table for you to find when you got home from a late night study session or handing them to you as he left for work in the morning.

It was hard not to appreciate how invested you seemed to be in it, and he tried hard not to read too much into it. That was far easier said than done though, especially when your eyes lit up with wonder and happiness, looking first at the flower and then at him. It was the biggest reason he did it, but it left him feeling empty in some ways, wondering if you would look at him the same way if he didn’t bring them to you.

Still, he wouldn’t stop-- even that little bit of attention meant something to him, so he took the flowers you now offered from your hands and spun the purple one between his slender fingers.

“Violets mean peace, or in this case relaxation,” he said, and immediately caught the understanding dawning on your face. By the time he explained the meaning behind the peonies-- good fortune or luck-- it had morphed into something so unbearably soft that his insides twisted into knots that would never come undone.

“And the jasmines mean-- love,” you said, and your expression morphed into confusion as you took them back from him.

“W-Well, in this case they’re just for optimism and good fortune. I guess a different flower would have been better--”

--but any other wouldn’t have meant the same thing.

He cursed himself for being so obvious and swallowed nervously, waiting for your response. In another situation, he might have said the look that flashed across your pensive face was disappointment, but he was sure he was just deluding himself.

And sure enough, your lips curled up into your usual smile as you thanked him for the flowers, support, and, most importantly, food.

The relief was tempered by disappointment that you accepted his lie so easily before he launched into a lecture about how you should take better care of yourself and threatened to come to the campus and drag you off to lunch himself if he had to. The living room was filled with banter while you ate, suggesting maybe you wouldn’t mind him coming and kidnapping you for lunch if he would take you to your favorite restaurant. Of course he promised he would because that just meant he’d get to spend even more time with you and you didn’t look the least bit unhappy with the development. He tried to ignore the nervous fluttering in his stomach as you planned to meet at the restaurant around one.

That night, you stayed in with him watching old movies that he knew you didn’t like, sharing a blanket thrown across your legs, but he appreciated the way you kept picking them anyway. The flowers were moved to the kitchen counter, illuminated by the overhead light, and more than once he caught you looking at them with a soft, wistful sort of smile.

The first lunch date was followed by several more over the coming weeks, whenever the gap in your schedule coincided with his lunch break. Of course, he could take lunch whenever he wanted, being the owner, but Akaashi was nothing if not a courteous boss and chose not to do that to his employees.

Today you were running late, and your order had just arrived when you flung yourself into your seat, out of breath and grinning maniacally. It was the look you usually wore when something had both gone your way and was going to surprise him and it didn’t fail this time either.

“I got a fucking S, ‘Kaashi!” you said, slamming the paper down on the table between you. His eyes widened and you practically glowed at the stunned expression. It made his blue eyes sparkle, and when he looked up at you there was such pride in them that your heart skipped a beat.

“_____, that’s amazing,” he said, picking up the paper to examine it. It was littered with your handwriting, each answer meticulously thought out and he could even see some of his influence in your answers-- certain things worded certain ways or words he had said repeated in ink. There was something about knowing you listened to his advice that closely that made him anxious, and he couldn’t decide if it was in a good way or a bad way. “I’m so proud of you.”

This test had been weighing heavy on you for a month, and most of your focus was on passing it, since it was your worst subject. It was too important to fail, and you had stayed up late into the night working on your problem areas, with Akaashi coming in clutch with advice and explanations-- and coffee-- when you needed it.

A flood of adoration swept through you as you stared at your pretty roommate. He was the picture of calm, a gentle smile on his face as he gazed back at you, grey-blue eyes narrow with what you guessed was contentment.

Suddenly, this felt a lot less platonic than it had originally, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat. You couldn’t go down that line of thinking, it would only lead to disappointment. No way was this gorgeous man interested in a stressed out, exhausted, anxious mess of a college student and you wouldn’t let yourself get your hopes up.

“A lot of it was because of you, you know,” you said, schooling your expression into what you hoped was grateful and not at all nervous. He didn’t react other than a widening of his smile and a curious quirk of his eyebrow, so you assumed you had managed it. “I mean it. You explain things so well, it’s easy to understand. And you’re patient, even though you had to explain things to me like a hundred times. I would definitely have failed without you.”

His eyes widened again in surprise, his lips parting as if to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he looked contemplative, a myriad of emotions swimming through his eyes but you couldn’t pick out any one in particular. At the end though, you thought there might have been something akin to melancholy as he looked down at his yet untouched food, tea long since gone cold.

Before you could ponder that, his expression settled back into the placid calm you were accustomed to and he said, “No, I think you could have done it. You put so much effort into studying, I thought you were going to pass out mid-exam. How many do you have left now?”

The conversation veered off into the rest of your exams and plans for the break in a week’s time-- of which you were unsure, since you had a few offers for vacations and trips-- as you ate.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur of papers, pens, and faces, and you were relieved to finally unlock the door to your apartment. Akaashi had texted you earlier saying he was going to be out late and you had slumped in disappointment, already wondering what you were going to do all alone that night.

But when you opened the door, you perked back up almost immediately.

Sitting on the coffee table was the vase, containing an iris, a yellow rose, and another white jasmine. In it was a note written in perfect, crisp cursive--

‘Blue Iris--faith. Yellow rose-- congratulations. I always knew you could do it, _____.’

For some reason, you couldn’t stop from plucking the jasmine.

Finals flew by in what felt like a whirlwind of late nights, coffee, and ink smudges. Every day brought tests, but every evening brought you a new flower and you were running out of space for them.

Irises, yellow roses, red mums, tiger lilies, and peonies were taking up every ounce of excess space you had and your room smelled like a garden. You couldn’t be happier, either. Akaashi seemed to have a sixth sense for what you needed on any given day and you always looked forward to getting home.

On the final day of your exams there was another round of irises, roses, and jasmines waiting for you, and as you twisted the stem of the white flower between your fingers, you were tempted to ask why this particular flower always found its way into his bouquets. But a bigger part of you didn’t want to know, wanted to let it remain a sweet mystery in case he decided to stop. You knew why you wanted to let it be-- you were afraid that asking would lead to an answer you didn’t want, and the hope you harbored was a pleasant pain.

“So,” Akaashi asked, breaking your pondering, “have you decided what you’re doing for the break?” You were staring far too hard at the fresh white jasmine and jumped when he spoke, making him chuckle.

You hummed in response, tucking the flower back into the vase on the counter and then looked over to him, perched on the stool beside yours. There was a book, another Jules Verne novel, sitting in front of him, a bookmark hanging out of the top. Resting your head on your arms, you said, “Yeah. A few of my friends decided to go to the beach, so I’m gonna go with them. I’ll be gone for a few days.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” he said, mimicking you. The air conditioner clicked on overhead and you shrugged. He tried to ignore the dull throbbing of his heart, wishing he could go with you. But not only had you not invited him, he also had no one to watch the store for him. “Do you not want to go?”

“It isn’t that,” you answered, but it was sort of a lie. You did want to go, to relax and have some fun, and you deserved that. But then why did you feel sad that you were leaving? You already knew, as you and Akaashi stared at each other, that it was him. Even for just a few days, you would miss him terribly, and he wasn’t even yours to miss. Sad, really, how pathetic you felt. “I just...I don’t know. There’s gonna be so many people and it’s gonna be loud and I just want to relax.”

“Then tell them you don’t want to go.” It was selfish, but he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. It managed to draw a grin out of you, even though you still shook your head.

“I’ve already committed. And besides, it’s only for a few days. Then I’ll come back and not do anything for the next week,” you said, and Akaashi chuckled.

“Well,” he said as he sat up, and you automatically followed suit, “we should eat so you can pack, since I’m sure you haven’t even started.”

Groaning, you hid your face in your hands, but you couldn’t help the smile. “Don’t call me out. I’ve been doing everything perfectly for the last month, I deserve to slack off a little.”

Akaashi was already scrolling through DoorDash on his phone and laughed again. “Of course you do, but don’t complain to me about it when you’re up at 5am packing.”

“Oh, I will. Because you’ll already be up anyway. I don’t know how you do it,” you said, staring at the flowers once more. You didn’t even bother to ask Akaashi what he was ordering because he knew you like the back of his hand, and whatever he got would be something you liked.

He hummed in response, placing his order before looking at you. “Wanna watch a movie? Unless you have something else planned?”

But you shook your head and his heart fluttered.

“Nah, a movie sounds great.”

It was only a week, he kept telling himself. And yet he missed you to the point he was almost moping. The apartment still smelled of all the flowers he had filled it with over the last few weeks, but it was fading fast without you to bring new ones home too. He shook his head at his ridiculous train of thought. It wasn’t like you were gone forever, you were still coming home in just a few days.

And he wasn’t sure if it helped that you were constantly blowing up his phone. Pictures and videos of tidepools, fish in the aquarium you had visited, sunsets on the water, and meals with your friends flooded his inbox and he eagerly scanned each one, drinking in your content smile.

But even through a picture, he could see something was missing from it. He knew you too well and looked way too hard not to notice, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. At least until one video in particular of you in what he recognized as a botanical garden-- the high, domed ceiling made of glass and the condensation obscuring his view of the sky, not to mention the plants literally everywhere gave it away. You were staring down at a box full of white flowers, but were too far away for him to recognize them until whoever was holding the camera got closer.

A male voice called out to you, amused and maybe a little condescending if Akaashi had to say so, asking, “Hey, _____, watcha lookin’ at?”

You visibly jumped in the frame and cast your friend a nervous smile before it cleared up, and in that moment the something Akaashi hadn’t seen in any other picture showed up, just before you reached out and grazed one of the dewy white petals.

Jasmine, he thought, at the same time that you said it. Heat rushed from his ears down to his toes and back up as he recognized the adoration and unadulterated happiness in your smile, and not even the camera-wielder’s derisive laugh could quell the feeling.

“You and your plants. Well, what’s this one mean then?”

If you noticed the tone, you didn’t show it, only standing up straight and putting your finger up in the air as if giving him a lesson as you said, “Jasmine stands for optimism, good fortune, and positive energy. And--”

Love, Akaashi thought, once again at the same time you said it, and he had to sit down at the counter as his nerves got the best of him. He couldn’t take it, the way you stared into the camera with a sharp, knowing look, like you were piercing right into his soul. If his game was given away, then so be it, he was going to confess properly instead of hiding behind his flowers.

Your friend laughed again, and this time Akaashi could see the way you flinched and rolled your eyes, walking away as he mocked you.

“Sure, sure. You really believe in that? Sounds corny if you ask me,” he said, voice crackly through the speaker as the sprinklers came on. He cursed and the video quickly cut out afterwards, probably to protect it from water damage.

Akaashi rewatched that video three more times before finally sending you a text telling you he was flattered that you remembered so much of his ramblings. Laughing, he set his phone down and carded his fingers through his hair, hiding his face in his arms as he thought about what he was planning to do and the ramifications. Was there any way he could salvage it if you rejected him? Was it even worth the risk right now?

There was no answer to his anxious questions, so he did what he always did when he needed something to occupy his mind-- he arranged flowers.

A couple of hours later, your phone pinged with a new alert, and you swiped it open absently as you sipped at a pina colada, almost choking on it when the picture loaded.

Pink, white, and blue all mixed together in an explosion of color on what you guessed was his workbench at the shop. It was one of his most elegant bouquets yet, at least as far as you were concerned, and your curiosity was white hot as you texted him.

‘what are they, kaashi? what do they mean?’

You waited impatiently for him to answer, but he never did, not even reading it. You were a flurry of nerves all that night, warring between calling him, texting him, and just leaving it be. So distracted were you that you lost count of how many drinks you’d had, until you and the rest of your friends were so far gone the bartender cut you off and you made your way up to your rooms to pass out.

You had never been happier to be going home than you were that morning, hungover and still without an answer from your roommate.

Unfortunately, you made a mistake on the drive home. Still distracted by your anxious energy, you scrolled through your phone, liking and commenting on things absently while you listened to your friends chatter in the backseat.

Suddenly, a hand was on your shoulder and a rough voice was in your ear, asking “Do you want to go, _____?”

Not thinking much of it, you agreed, checking your texts again just to see if he’d even read the few you’d sent-- nothing, and you went from worried to hurt. Why had he sent you that picture and then just ignored you afterwards? He was still active on Twitter and Instagram, so you knew he hadn’t fallen off his step stool at the shop. What was his deal?

Your apartment building came into view at last, and your heart picked up speed. It was the weekend, he should be home at this hour. What was he going to say? Or do? You had never been so nervous to get home-- or go home-- as you were just then, but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

Looking to your friend, Eiji, you found him looking at you expectantly.

“I’ll wait for you here, alright? Don’t keep me waiting,” he said, and laughed at the puzzled expression on your face. “You forget already, _____? You agreed to a date. But I figured you’d want to change before we went so…”

“Oh, uh, right,” you said, wracking your brain for when the hell you had agreed to that. His question from earlier drifted through your thoughts, and you could have smacked yourself for being so oblivious. It felt rude to just...change your mind right then, so you braced yourself to suffer through the date. Eiji was nice enough, if not a little pretentious. Nothing like Akaashi--

But you decided not to go down that path.

Grabbing your bag from the trunk, you raced up the steps to the apartment as fast as you could, missing the lock at least twice with how bad your hands were shaking. Flinging the door open, you startled Akaashi, who was sitting on the couch staring at yet another bouquet of flowers.

You stood staring at him, and him back at you, with wide, nervous eyes, neither of you saying anything for a moment, until--

“Welcome home.”

The irritation that had been building all day simmered over as you realized he had actually been ignoring you for no good reason, and then had the audacity to act like everything was fine.

“Hey.”

He didn’t miss the cool edge to your greeting as you wandered towards your room with your bag, sparing the vase on the table the smallest glance. The door closed behind you and you dropped your bag beside the closet, trying to ignore the anger and hurt flowing through you. Your head was starting to hurt again and you really just wanted to lay down for a nap, but your phone dinged, lighting up with Eiji’s name, asking how much longer you were going to be.

Ignoring the temptation to cancel-- you really didn’t want to be rude-- you hurriedly changed into something more appropriate and combed through your hair. Scrunching your nose, you winced at the sunburn you could feel covering your face, wondering how you had gotten it even with your religious use of sunscreen.

Akaashi was still sitting on the couch, the book he had been reading closed on his lap as he stared at the bouquet on the table. When you came into the living room, he perked up, a nervous smile coming onto his face.

“Hey, I wanted to talk-- Are you going somewhere?” He had just realized you had changed into a new outfit and there was a restless energy in the way you checked your phone. You had just gotten home, but you were already ready to leave again.

There was irritation on your face as you glanced up from your phone, and he was unable to tell if it was directed at him or whoever was texting you, but it morphed quickly into apologetic as you sighed. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve got a date. I’ll be back in a bit. We can talk then?”

You didn’t sound too happy about that, and Akaashi definitely wasn’t, but his words stuck in his throat. A date. Jealousy bubbled viciously in his stomach, oozing into his heart and up his throat, and he jerked his head once, willing the tide to stem until you had left. It was his own fault, after all, for waiting so long to ask and then ignoring you for a day.

He was such a coward.

Staring at your phone again, you missed the pinched narrowing of his eyes and headed towards the door, waving goodbye before closing it behind you.

It was only an hour or two later-- you weren’t totally sure, since you weren’t even sure when you had gotten home and abruptly left again-- that you were dragging your sore feet up the steps to the apartment again. The date had gone horribly wrong, right from the start.

Differences of opinion, differences of interests, his disinterest in listening to you talk about anything you were interested in, it seemed like the two of you just couldn’t sync up to have an actual conversation.

Not to mention how you kept inadvertently comparing him to Akaashi, from the way he spoke to you to the way he spoke of other people, right down to the way he ate, for fuck’s sake. You had it bad, and the date was a terrible idea.

When you stepped into the apartment it was quiet and mostly dark, only the lamp on the side table on, and you wondered if Akaashi had either left or gone to bed.

The vase still sat on the table, illuminated in the soft yellow light, and you recognized red roses, tulips, carnations, and the ever present jasmine. Closing the door behind you with a soft click, you kicked off your shoes before sitting on the couch. As ever, the arrangement was flawless, all the flowers mixed together with perfect balance, and you burst into tears.

It was too obvious, now that you thought about it.

Almost two months of flowers, at least one everyday, a bouquet for every milestone or when you were feeling down, his strange text yesterday and how he wanted to talk to you today-- you really were an idiot.

And then you get home and tell him you have a date-- it must have felt like a slap to the face, and the sick queasiness in your stomach was no less than you deserved for doing that to him, for being so blind.

As quiet as you tried to be, you must still have made too much noise-- that or he wasn’t asleep in the first place-- because there was a weight on the couch beside you and an arm around your shoulder.

Soft words you couldn’t comprehend were whispered into your ear, that same arm pulling you close into his chest, where it was joined by the other one around your back. The tears continued to fall, wetting his shirt, your fingers wrinkling it where they twisted in, and he held you until you finally quieted.

“What’s going on, _____? Did your date hurt you?” he asked and, now that you were calm enough to listen, you could hear the panic and worry in his words.

Taking deep, gulping breaths to steady yourself, you shook your head. “No, nothing like that, I-- ‘Kaashi, I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have agreed to that stupid date, he was such a jerk and all I could think about was you and then I came home and saw the flowers and I realized--”

He shifted against you, petting your hair as you stumbled over your words. He could hear the unshed tears building up again and rushed to soothe you before they could spill over. “Woah, hey, slow down. Why were you thinking of me on your date?”

You paused to look up at him, tan skin and blue eyes backlit by the lamp, face twisted in confusion and you had the insane urge to laugh. He was so beautiful it was unfair, how could he ever want a stressed out mess like you?

“I think I love you, Akaashi,” you whispered, and then dropped your eyes down to his chest, unable to stand the fear of rejection.

A soft hand cupped your cheek, thumb sliding across your cheekbone before tilting your head up to face him again.

His nose brushed yours and you swore your heart stopped, a soft noise leaving the back of your throat as he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, you closed the distance, grazing his lips in what could barely be called a kiss and only left you aching for more. He delivered, slanting his lips across yours, molding them together and your head spun with a mixture of relief and desire. The scent of the flowers on the table mingled with the smell that always came off of him, a heady perfume of hundreds of different flowers that you couldn’t get enough of. It clung to his skin, his clothes, and now you, and you allowed your hands to run over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, threading into the curls at the nape of his neck.

By the time you parted, you had crawled into his lap, knees on either side of his hips, and followed that up with several small kisses afterwards. His hands found their way up your shirt, stroking along your spine and squeezing your side as you rested your forehead against his.

“You’ve been telling me all this time, haven’t you?” you asked, barely a whisper, and he chuckled breathlessly in response.

“Yeah. I guess it was too subtle,” he answered, and then kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough, not after he had waited so long to taste you. His palms smoothed up your back, just beneath the strap of your bra, and you shivered in his hold. “I can show you now, if you want?”

You shivered at the warm promise in his words and nodded. “Please, ‘Kaashi.”

He hummed in response, leading a trail of kisses across your cheek to just beneath your ear. Nimble fingers unclasped your bra beneath your shirt, and then came back down to grip your thighs. With a strength you hadn’t expected, he hoisted you up from the couch, carrying you down the hall and kicking open his door.

You had been in his room countless times before, but it took on a different view when you were laid on your back on his bed, surrounded by a dark grey blanket with him hovering over you. He was stripping out of his shirt, and you licked your lips at each inch of skin that was exposed. His muscles rippled as he pulled it over his head, revealing his lean chest, flushed as red as his cheeks as he caught you staring.

“What is it?” he asked as he propped himself up over you. He was still standing, your legs hanging off the side of the bed and he nudged them open, slotting himself between your thighs. Your expression was that of a deer in headlights as you looked from his face down to the bulge in his shorts, settled right against the crotch of your jeans.

“You’re just-- so pretty, Akaashi,” you whispered, trailing the fingers of one hand down his throat and chest, watching the muscles on his stomach jump and flex. Your head was still spinning with all this new information, but you weren’t about to let it overwhelm you. Wrapping your other arm around his neck, you pulled him down for another searing kiss, his lips turning up against yours.

When he pulled back, he was blushing, but there was a steely, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Not as pretty as you, kitten. I think these clothes need to go. I want to feel you,” he said, tugging your shirt over your head. You sat up to help him and followed that by throwing your bra to the floor beside him, and he groaned. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Palming your breasts in his hands, he pinched your nipples between his fingers, feeling you shiver beneath him. Your back arched, begging him silently for more, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. You looked so good, sprawled out beneath him, eyes wide and pupils blown out, lips parted in pleasure. His cock ached at the sight, and he gave into the temptation to grind his hips into yours, eliciting a quiet gasp from you.

Fingers wrapped around the hard muscle of his bicep. “Akaashi, please.”

“Keiji. Say it,” he commanded even as his fingers trailed down from your breasts to your stomach. He smiled when you giggled but didn’t prolong it, instead flicking the button of your jeans open. They were tugged roughly down your legs and discarded, and then he was tracing the outside of your panties, watching you squirm.

Your lips parted as he ghosted his fingers over your clit, panties already dampe under his touch. “Kei-ji, touch me, please,” you whined, fingers digging into the blanket.

“Whatever you need, kitten. I’ve got you,” he said, pulling the gusset of your panties aside. You were already so slick, and you moaned when the pads of his fingers rubbed over your folds. The heel of his hand grazed your clit and you were desperate for more. “You’re so beautiful, _____. So wet for me.”

You nodded in agreement, tears of frustration beginning to sting your eyes, and you called his name when he finally sunk one long, slender finger into your tight heat. You clenched around him as his thumb found your clit, pumping in and out of you. A second finger soon joined the first, his heated eyes locked on your slick covering his palm and the way your pussy seemed to suck them back in hungrily. A mess of moans and his name fell from your lips, accentuated by the thrust of your hips as you seeked out more of his touch.

With a groan he sank to his knees, letting his tongue replace his thumb and he swore he’d never tasted anything sweeter on his tongue.

“God, princess, you taste so good,” he groaned against your clit, and you spasmed around him at the sensation. His fingers were long enough that you could feel him toy with your cervix on every thrust, and your toes curled when he grazed over the spongy spot on your walls. “Need you to cum on my fingers, okay? Then I can fill up this pretty pussy.”

You gasped at his words, not expecting anything that filthy from your soft spoken roommate. That coupled with the mental image of him sliding his cock into you drove you right over the precipice of your orgasm.

He moaned, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers, and his cock twitched.

When he stood up, he drank in the sight of your heaving chest and spread legs, pussy glistening. Arousal and contentment flooded his system, purely happy that he finally had you laying before him as he’d dreamt so many times before, and he let his shorts drop to the floor.

Your jaw dropped as he pumped his shaft a few times, smearing the precum already leaking down his thick shaft. It was a good thing he had prepared you, but the thought of having to stretch to take him was equally tempting. The slick sounds made you squirm, wanting to be filled and stretched. You locked your ankles around his thighs, earning a chuckle.

“Patience, kitten. Slide up the bed,” he said, watching you move backwards until you were laying in the center.

The bed dipped under his weight and he crawled over you, shoving his knees beneath your thighs. Hoisting your legs up to lock around his hips, he let his cock settle against your folds. You shuddered when he slid across your still sensitive clit, whining low in your throat.

“Too sensitive, kitten? Want to stop?” he teased, and laughed at the look of panic that flashed across your face. You shook your head frantically, legs tightening around him, and he soothed you by cupping your cheek. “Me either. I’m gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

There was a promise in his eyes, and you were still trying to connect the Akaashi you knew with this one, the one that was cajoling and teasing and making you ache with a need to be filled with his thick cock.

“Please, Keiji,” you murmured, laying your hand atop his and nuzzling against his palm. “I want you inside me. Wanted you for so long, please don’t tease.”

He smiled in response, guiding himself to your entrance and you moaned as the head of his cock slipped in and you accidentally clenched around him when you thought of having all of him. A hiss filled your ears and he thrust the rest of the way in, your cunt parting around him like it was made for him.

“Goddammit, you’re so tight,” he cursed, trying to control the temptation to rock his hips. You were trembling underneath him, and he braced himself up on his elbows, resting his forehead against yours. “Need you to squeeze around me again, pretty girl. Please*.”

You earned a gasp when you did, his hips jerking down into you, his pubic bone grinding your clit and you mewled his name.

“K-Keiji, a-ah, that feels so good,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes. Your legs tightened around him, keeping him in place as he rocked into you in short, shallow thrusts.

“Good girl. You feel so good, kitten. So tight and wet. God.” His voice was low and gravelly, eyes shut tight as he fisted the blankets by your head. He kept up that steady pace, pulling out more and more with each thrust until he was pistoning into you. The wet slap of his hips against yours filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of his name. Each thrust hit every sweet spot, the curls at the base of his cock tickling your clit, driving you quickly towards your end again. Your nails dug into biceps as your hips rose to meet his, and when he opened his eyes he found you staring at him with open love and lust.

His lips crashed against yours, forcing you to swallow the loud groan that he uttered when he slowed and circled his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into your tight cunt. Your back arched, forcing your chest against his, and his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Need you to cum for me, kitten,” he whispered against your lips, repeating that same circling motion. The way he rubbed your clit and ground into your cervix flung you over the edge with a wail of his name. You squeezed so tight around him that his hips jerked and he found himself cumming, painting your insides white, unable to pull away because your legs were still locked around him. “*Shit, goddammit*.”

He let his head fall to the bed beside you, sliding his arms up until he was pressed flush against you. Breathing shakily, you let your hands roam his back, spreading the sweat that had built up. Your hips were starting to hurt and Akaashi noticed them shaking and sat up, pulling out of you so he could put your legs down.

“Akaashi, I--” you started to say, but he cupped your cheek and covered your lips with his thumb, cutting you off.

“It’s still Keiji, pretty girl. And I think we can talk about this in the bath,” he said, helping you up and off the bed.

After the bath was drawn and you were settled comfortably against his chest, drawing random patterns on his skin, he let you speak.

“What’re we gonna do now, Keiji? We already live together, I guess. Nothing’s going to change, right?” you asked, watching drops of water roll down his skin. He was so warm and you found yourself wanting to fall asleep, you were so comfortable.

His soft fingers were trailing up and down your back, his arm resting on the side of the tub, and he hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Well, I’d like to date you, if that’s acceptable. Otherwise no, I don’t believe anything will change. Other than I’ll fall in love with you even more, _____.”

The back of your neck grew hot at his words and you hid your face behind your hands, fighting the heat that spread all over. Your heart stuttered and you whined even as your eyes stung. That was all you had wanted over the course of the last several months, and now here he was telling you exactly what you wanted to hear. It was an actual dream come true.

Once you had fought the embarrassment back down you turned to look up at him.

It was a fruitless endeavor because the soft, loving gaze you met made it erupt all over again, and you kissed the smirk right off his pretty lips for it.

“I love you, Keiji,” you whispered against his lips, and smiled when you heard the words breathed back. Settling back down, you resumed your doodling, spelling out different things against his slick skin, and then asked, “The flowers in the picture you sent. What were they and why did you send it and then ignore me?”

He chuckled at the petulant tone, the sound pleasant in your ear where it rested over his heart, before answering.

“Well, you had just sent that video of you in the garden and after watching it, I decided I was going to confess when you got home. The flowers just helped ground me.” Guilt flooded you again as you remembered how you had brushed him off when you walked through the door and, as if he could sense it, he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. “It’s alright, princess. I deserved it after ignoring you. I was just scared to tell you because I couldn’t tell you the meanings behind them without giving myself away.

You relaxed in his hold again, tilting your head up to look at him and were floored all over again. You would surely never get tired of the soft adoration in his beautiful eyes and hoped it would never fade. “So, what were they then?”

“Azalea’s for homesickness, because you took my heart with you. Camellia’s for passion, because that’s how strongly I feel about you. Forget-me-nots for love, so you don’t forget. And jasmine because they’re your favorite, and I love you with my whole being.”

The words were whispered into your hair, the only other sound besides the gentle sloshing of water as he had started to rock you back and forth, fingers cupping your neck to hold you too him, and the tears that had burned earlier welled over as you realized how deeply he meant those words and how deeply he had embedded himself into your heart.

There was no doubt in his mind that the tears spilling down his chest were good, not when they were overlaid with kisses everywhere you could manage, and then you stilled, content to just let him hold you after that. No other words were said until the water grew colder and you shivered.

“We should go to bed. It’s already very late,” he murmured, and helped you to stand. His breath hitched as the water cascaded down your body, feeling arousal build all over again. He ignored it as you toweled off and redressed, snagging his shirt up before he could grab it and slipping it over your head. “You are not helping me to keep my hands off you, kitten,” he growled, grabbing you by the hips and guiding you towards his bedroom.

You let him lead you with no resistance besides pausing to wiggle against him and giggling when he sighed in mock exasperation.

“Maybe I’m not trying to,” you said, sauntering towards the bed.

“If that’s the case,” he answered, pinning you to the mattress. Your legs naturally came up to hook over his hips and his shorts slipped down, exposing his already hard cock. “I guess we aren’t ready for bed yet.”

⇥ masterlist

⇥ taglist: @sluttony, @visaintes, @yunhosblackgf, @super-noya, @byebyes-world, @newfriendjen

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #.thesymbolforlove

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dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade · 3 years

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Reunion

Request: HERE A/N: UPLOADING IT AGAIN BC I FORGOT TO TAG IT SORRY Soo it’s been what, one year, since I last posted a fic here? I’m kind of rusty ngl but nevertheless, it felt comforting to write something like this :) As usual, critiques and comments are welcome Word count: 1.7 K+ Warnings: none

To be added - or removed - from the taglist, please DM me or leave me an ask!

GIF credit goes to @edgeofgreta; the original post is HERE

You walked into the apartment and set the two groceries-filled shopping bags onto the laminated floor. You kicked off your shoes and carried the bags into the open kitchen, placing them on the counter. With boredom, you took out every single item and placed them in their designated spaces. With the same growing boredom, you made your way back into the living room and threw yourself on the navy-blue sofa with your head sinking in one of the biggest pillows.

You pick up your phone and look at the screen – specifically, at the lockscreen wallpaper, which was a photo of you and Jake. Josh had taken that photo on one of the getaways you made together. Jake had on a beige shirt with his top four buttons undone – in other words, only with his lower two buttons done – and his favorite black hat. He was standing up tall, a wide smile on his face, and you were leaning against him, with your head placed on his right shoulder. You smiled and unlocked your phone, then opened the messages app and texted Jake.

I miss you :( Why does tour have to last this long?

Underneath the blue message bubble appeared the notification that the message had been read, then three typing dots appeared on Jake’s end.

I miss you too, honey. I can’t wait to get home and see you.

You begin to type.

Can we facetime later?

The answer came shortly.

Sorry, but tonight we have a gig. Tomorrow, too… We’re having practice now. Josh has again too much energy and needs to drain it a little bit before going onstage. Got to go now :( Love you

You typed back a formal luck-wishing message and threw the phone on the coffee table in front of the sofa. You were bored out of your mind and in the mood to do nothing whatsoever. Jake had been gone for almost three months now. You understood that it was his job and those were the terms and conditions you agreed to when you started dating him, but you didn’t figure at the time that separation would feel like that. It was safe to say that from time to time you missed him so much it hurt you.

You curled into a fetal position and turned on the TV. Flicking through the channels, you stopped at MTV. Highway Tune just began to play. Your heart grew at the sight of the boys and especially at the sight of Jake. You were so proud of them for getting that far and the mere thought that there actually is a far longer way for them to go made your heart beat in exhilaration. As the last notes of the song echoed through the room, you closed your eyes, pleased that you had seen the band on TV again.

You woke up from the “nap” way too late – it was 1 AM when you opened your eyes – so you moved from the living room to the bedroom. You didn’t bother changing your clothes and you just got underneath the blankets covering the double bed. Before falling asleep again, you looked over at the empty space next to you and you caressed the sheets, wishing that Jake would be there.

The new morning brought along a new day, but unfortunately, the base routine was the same: breakfast, staying in bed for way longer than you should’ve, going outside for some more groceries, flipping through magazines, watching TV, texting – or at least trying to text – Jake. The difference was that today, you called in sick for work and decided to do something fun.

After calling multiple of your friends, asking if they were free to go shopping with you, you finally let yourself defeated and decided you’d visit some shops on your own.

While you were at the bookshop – the one you frequently visited with Jake – you found a puzzle which, put together, should create a 3D globe with multiple images from the Renaissance era. You figured that Jake would find that puzzle at least as intriguing as you did. I could start putting together a welcome-home gift for Jake, you grinned as the thought crossed your mind. You picked the puzzle box off the shelf and walked around the bookshop with it. You stopped in front of the vinyl-filled boxes and you began browsing through them. Jake had a ridiculously large vinyl collection, but you listened to it together so many times that you almost knew every record by heart.

After way too much time spent pondering which records to get, you finally settled for The Doors’ Morrison Hotel and T-Rex’s Electric Warrior. On your way to the register, you stopped by the wine-for-special-occasions section and picked up a bottle.

With your heart filled with excitement, you came back home and called out. “Jake, I’m –,” but you stopped as you remembered that he wasn’t actually home. You slowly let the paper bag containing the puzzle, the wine bottle and the two records on the ground as you locked the door. Before unpacking, you checked your phone. No notifications from Jake. You felt your heart lightly twitch. You couldn’t blame Jake: he was just busy and most likely tired.

You took out the new acquisitions and arranged them on the low coffee table and smiled at the thought of Jake coming in through the front door.

You were tired, so you quickly did your night routine and you got into bed. Once you were in bed though, you couldn’t fall asleep. You just kept tossing back and forth, unable to find a comfortable position. Unannouncedly and unexpectedly, tears welled up in your eyes as you laid there, alone, facing the empty space to your left. You didn’t fight the tears back; you were alone in the darkness, there was no one who could see you. You just missed Jake so much. You missed the smell of his cologne imprinted even in his pajamas. You missed his laughter that managed to make you laugh all the time and you missed those moments when you’d both begin to laugh hysterically and you’d laugh at Jake’s laugh and he’d laugh at yours, and you both laughed so much that you forgot what started it in the first place. You missed his random moments of dancing around the house and you missed his complaints mostly aimed at Josh. As the memories reeled in the back of your mind, your sobs got more frequent. Thinking of it, three months didn’t sound like such a long time, but in reality, time is tricky. Three months can easily feel like three hours and just as easy can feel like three years. For you, it felt like three decades. You mindlessly grabbed Jake’s pillow and hugged it tightly to your chest, wishing it would be Jake instead of just a pillow.

As a new day dawned, you shuffled in your sleep and hugged the pillow again. You didn’t want to wake up just yet.

“Wakey, wakey,” a voice said from somewhere behind you, almost through a dream.

“Five more minutes,” you groaned, unwilling to open your eyes. You paused then and held your breath.

“You’re gonna be late for work,” the voice spoke again and a warm finger traced your side.

You jumped almost instantly. “Jake!” you shouted and collapsed over him, your arms circling his shoulders. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply – that faint smell of freshly squeezed lemons, mint and cigarettes. His arms circled your waist and you both fell onto the bed. “God, I missed you so much,” you whisper.

“I missed you too… I am so happy to be back home,” he said and hugged you tighter.

Time stood still for you. You were in your happy place and nothing could get you away from there. You pulled away and looked at Jake. You ran your index fingers on both sides of his face and then cupped his face in your hands. Jake didn’t break eye contact with you not even for a second. He softly leaned into your right hand and with his right hand, he took your free one and brought it up to his lips, leaving a kiss on it. “Come here,” he whispered and smiled at you, as his hand made its way up to your cheek, slowly guiding you in towards his lips. You closed your eyes and slightly tilted your head to the side, anticipation growing in your stomach. His lips on yours felt so soft, so satin-like and sweet. You couldn’t get enough of this feeling. As an instinctive gesture, you brought your hand up to Jake’s face and let your fingers roam over his soft skin until they mindlessly tangled into his hair. Jake chuckled in-between needier and needier kisses, “More to come later.” He softly pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “Next time, you’ll quit your job and come with me on tour.”

“Definitely,” you giggle, already picturing it in your mind. City after city, state after state – and you’d be there to see it all. “Jakey,” you say and pout a little.

“Yes, I will cuddle with you,” he nodded his head before you even got the occasion to ask the question. You break out in laughter and fall into the bed which, now that Jake was home, was even more comfortable.

You snaked your arms around Jake’s torso and pulled yourself closer to him. Jake pulled the blanket over the two of you in one swift move and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “I’m never letting you go,” you whisper and cuddle closer to his chest.

“Please never do,” he answered and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Did one of the boys tell you by any chance that we’re coming back early?”

“No, why?”

“Oh, that’s good. I wanted it to be a surprise,” he spoke lowly. “I saw you had some wine in the kitchen.”

You giggled. “It’s for us, for when you would come home.”

“I am home now,” Jake raised an eyebrow.

“I’m calling in sick again,” you announced and Jake’s laugh echoed through the room.

“That’s my girl.”

Tags: @myownparadise96, @satans-helper, @littlegeekwonder, @songbirdkisses, @angelstraightfr0mhell, @freeeshavacadoo, @safari-karrot, @mountainofthesunn, @bigthighsandstupidguys, @starshinekiszka

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet imagine #jake kiszka #jake kiszka imagine #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #gvf #gvf imagine #jake kiszka x reader #requested #my writing #fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fic

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disastermages · 3 years

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this is for @alliecatstrophe bc she’s one of my best friends and bc she loves it when lxc plays matchmaker

"Wangji, that wasn't what it looked like." His brother tells him, but Lan Wangji barely hears his brother over the blood rushing in his ears. His exam prep class had ended early, and Lan Wangji had walked in on Lan Xichen and Wei Ying standing together with barely an inch between them while Lan Xichen adjusted Wei Ying’s posture.

He'd stood there and looked at the both of them dumbstruck, but Wei Ying had noticed him before his brother had, and he'd turned the full force of his smile on to Lan Wangji. He would have crumbled underneath it if Lan Xichen hadn't turned to look at him right after, smiling as though he hadn't brought the source of his younger brother's distraction into their home.

"I'm only doing it as a favor, Wangji, please," Lan Xichen pleads, following Lan Wangji up the stairs when he still doesn't turn to look at him. "Jiang Yanli told me they couldn't find anyone else to tutor him on the dizi. He really is getting much better compared to how he was when we first started."

The explanation sounds too simple to be true, but Lan Wangji knew that his brother had been tutoring someone, but he hadn't asked who, and his brother had always gone elsewhere for the lessons, often refusing dinner when he returned.

Lan Wangji had just never truly imagined that his brother had been tutoring Wei Ying of all people.

"Why did you bring him here?" Lan Wangji asks, finally turning to face his brother, though he fails to keep the petulance out of his voice. If Lan Xichen hadn't brought Wei Ying here, Lan Wangji could have remained blissfully ignorant of the fact.

Lan Xichen looks truly apologetic then, looking down at the hardwood floors, "Wei Wuxian and I usually practice at his house, but his aunt was hosting her monthly book club and asked that we practice elsewhere. If I had known that the two of you were at odds, I wouldn't have brought him here."

A flash of guilt and something else starts in Lan Wangji's stomach and moves up to his throat as he looks away from Lan Xichen, his nails digging into the banister. "We are not at odds." He says simply, heat beginning to color the tips of his ears and Lan Wangji only hopes that his brother doesn't notice.

"You aren't?" Lan Xichen asks, and he sounds confused as he looks up at Lan Wangji again, his eyebrows knit together. Lan Wangji can feel himself backing away from his brother then, forcing himself not to reach up and try to hide the blush brightening his ears.

He could still run away, he could duck into his bedroom and lock the door behind him and refuse to answer Lan Xichen when he came knocking.

For one, wonderful moment, his plan seems plausible, but then Lan Xichen is coming closer and Lan Zhan feels himself back away instinctively. "Is Wei Wuxian the person you were telling me about?" His brother's words are gentle, but Lan Wangji only wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

He'd managed to avoid telling Lan Xichen Wei Ying’s name when he'd finally broken down and told his brother about his crush the week before, though he'd carried it with him for months now. He'd been so careful, he'd dodged certain questions perfectly, but just by standing in his living room, Wei Ying had undone all of that in less than five whole minutes.

Daring to glance up at him, Lan Wangji can watch the information come together on Lan Xichen's face, and he takes another half step towards his room. "Wei Ying is still waiting for you downstairs," Lan Wangji says, swallowing thickly and backing away when a smile spreads across Lan Xichen's face. "It would be impolite to leave him alone for much longer."

Lan Wangji doubted that Wei Ying would think either of them rude, but it was the only excuse he could grasp at that Lan Xichen might buckle under.

Though, when he meets his brother's eyes again, Lan Wangji can see that he isn't going to take the bait. "I'm certain Wei Wuxian would appreciate someone else's feedback for a change of pace, if you'd like to sit with us, Wangji." His brother says, all of the sympathy and guilt from earlier leaving his voice as he glances backwards, as if he expected Wei Ying to appear behind him and agree with him.

Lan Wangji looks too, before he can stop himself.

"I have homework." Lan Wangji declines. It wasn't a lie, he had a paper that was due in three weeks, starting it now would be the best thing to do.

Whether he believes him or not, Lan Xichen doesn't argue, he only smiles before he turns and walks downstairs again.

Lan Wangji knows better than to trust the smile on his brother's face.

His weekend should have been a peaceful one, but instead it had passed with Lan Xichen offering advice that he swears is helpful one moment and teasing him the next, telling him how Wei Ying had gone off on tangents about Lan Wangji and his own musical capabilities. Lan Wangji hadn’t asked to hear a word of it, but he’d only been met with a knowing smile whenever he dared to glare up at his brother.

It isn't fair, Lan Xichen has been in his own relationship for years now, there's nothing Lan Wangji can do to retaliate.

Not that he would, thinking about it is different than actually doing it.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying’s voice cuts through Lan Zhan's thoughts almost as soon as he walks into the classroom, the other boy almost bouncing out of his seat by the time Lan Zhan settles in at his own desk. "You left so fast when I was at your house last week, I didn't even get to say hi!" Wei Ying scolds, but the words are lined with a teasing tone and the pout on his face is quickly replaced with a grin.

"I did not want to intrude." Lan Wangji hears himself say, knowing that it was as close to the truth as he'd let himself get while Wei Ying was looking at him like that.

"You still could have stuck around! Your brother says I need to get used to playing in front of people anyways, you could have been my first audience." There's that smile again, Lan Wangji was sure it was supposed to show him that Wei Ying wasn't really upset with him for leaving, but all it does is make the tangled, knotted mess of words in Lan Wangji's throat worse than it already was.

He opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn't get the chance to before their teacher is starting class and Lan Wangji feels himself swallow down the tangle of words as he turns and faces forward in his seat.

He's grateful for the distraction, really. Wei Ying knows that he won't answer him again until class is over, though it rarely stops him from trying.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying whispers, and Lan Wangji's eyes flick upwards to the clock on the wall, there’s still another 40 minutes before he would have to answer Wei Ying. "Lan Zhan," Wei Ying tries again, and Lan Wangji glances over at him this time, "tell me what your favorite song on the flute is and I'll ask your brother to teach me how to play it on my dizi.”

Normally, that kind of offer would be something Lan Wangji would only think about when he couldn't sleep and his mind inevitably drifted to thoughts of Wei Ying, but hearing it offered to him in real life makes his mouth feel dry. "There is no need." Lan Wangji answers, breaking his own rule, but he would feel guilty enough about it later, when Wei Ying was no longer looking at him.

Wei Ying groans loudly then, almost leaning over into Lan Wangji's space before their teacher calls on him to answer a question. He doesn’t try to hear whether or not Wei Ying answers the question correctly, instead, Lan Wangji forces himself to stare straight ahead, his hand taking notes almost mechanically.

He doesn’t doubt that Lan Xichen would teach Wei Ying any song he showed an interest in learning, it’s the thought of Wei Ying learning something for him that makes the knot of words even bigger in Lan Wangji’s throat, his grip on his pen entirely too tight as he ignores the way Wei Ying keeps trying to get his attention again, refusing to look over until he gives up entirely.

His throat feels tight when he dares to look over at Wei Ying out of the corner of his eye. Long hair drapes over Wei Ying’s shoulder like a shadow, stretching out and covering his forearm as Wei Ying reaches up and pushes some of it back. If it kept getting in the way, Lan Wangji knew that he would tie it up even higher eventually, sweeping it up into a messy bun that left his neck exposed and left Lan Wangji’s mouth even drier than it already had been.

Unless Wei Ying’s own hair tie broke again, and if it did, he would wordlessly wave his hand at Lan Wangji until he handed him one out of his bag.

He wouldn’t have an answer if Wei Ying ever asked him why he carried hair ties, his own hair was kept short, and he’d only started carrying them after he’d watched Wei Ying whine and wince at using rubber bands in his hair.

Wei Ying’s hair tie does not break during the last few moments of their class and Wei Ying does not ask Lan Wangji why he carries hair ties in his bag.

He almost thinks that he’s escaped Wei Ying’s question, but then he’s caught in the middle of the hallway, Wei Ying’s hand tight around his wrist keeping him from going any further.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying whines, pulling at his hand and pouting when Lan Wangji finally turns around to face him. “Tell me your favorite song! I wanna learn it for you!”

Lan Wangji should tell him no, he should stay firm in his decision to turn him down, but a sigh is leaving him before he can stop himself. “I will tell my brother so the correct sheet music can be found when Wei Ying is ready to learn it.” His own resolve crumbles in Lan Wangji’s hands in the face of Wei Ying’s pout, just like it has every time since simple friendship had given way to a hopeless crush.

“Really?” Wei Ying’s face brightens and his grip on Lan Wangji’s wrist only tightens as Lan Wangji nods minutely. No one else beyond his brother should have been able to catch it, but Wei Ying does. The pout is gone within seconds, like clouds breaking up after a storm to reveal a sun shining too brightly and too warmly over Lan Wangji’s skin.

It should have been the end of the discussion, but Wei Ying insists on walking him to his next class, and Lan Wangji is incapable of telling him not to.

Over the next few weeks, Lan Xichen’s excuses for bringing Wei Ying into their home become flimsier and flimsier.

One week, Lan Xichen had claimed that Jiang Cheng’s lacrosse team was having a meeting at the Jiang household. “It was so loud, Wangji, Wei Ying and I couldn’t even have a conversation, let alone even think about music.” The explanation had made sense, and coming from anyone else, Lan Wangji might have believed it, but it was the smirk on his face that had given Lan Xichen away.

The week after that, his brother had only shrugged and claimed that the acoustics in their living room were better than those in the Jiang’s living room.

Lan Wangji still hasn’t forgiven him for the week he’d asked Wei Ying to stay over for dinner, though Lan Xichen had claimed that he only wanted to make up for all the times Wei Ying’s family had invited him to their table.

His brother is a traitor, but Lan Wangji is getting more and more used to that particular realization. Lan Xichen only smiled kindly in the face of every look Lan Wangji could have possibly given him.

He doesn’t believe it when his brother calls him and tells him that he’s going to be late to Wei Ying’s lesson because his car had gotten a flat, stranding him a whole town away. Lan Xichen had sworn he would be back in time.

“There’s no point in canceling the lesson,” Lan Xichen had told him that right before he asked Lan Wangji to keep Wei Ying company while he waited.

Now, Lan Wangji is left to sit in the living room while he waits for Wei Ying, his spine perfectly straight even though he feels like sneaking up to his room and pretending that he isn’t home when the doorbell finally rings.

Lan Wangji thinks about doing just that until he’s twisting the doorknob and opening the door, but he’s rooted to the spot by the time Wei Ying’s face lights up, his own mouth falling open just a little bit.

Wei Ying doesn’t wait to be invited in, he just slides past Lan Wangji, careful not to knock his dizi case into him before he bends down to take off his shoes. His hair is mussed from the walk over and Lan Wangji feels his hand twitch with the want to step forward and smooth it down once Wei Ying rights himself.

Lan Wangji swallows it down as he closes the door.

“My brother will be late today.” Lan Wangji says, following Wei Ying with his eyes as he walks into the living room and then turns around to look at Lan Wangji when he finds no Lan Xichen. There was more he could say, he could give Wei Ying a better explanation, but before his mouth can speak, his body is turning towards the stairs.

The polite thing to do would be to sit with Wei Ying until his brother arrived, and Lan Wangji desperately wants to do that as much as he desperately doesn’t want to.

Wei Ying’s hand is wrapped around his wrist again by the time he’s climbed to the third step, almost dragging Lan Wangji back down to the first floor with him. “You’re gonna leave me down here by myself, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks as he pulls on Lan Wangji’s sleeve, and for a moment, he looks genuinely worried enough that Lan Wangji climbs back down a single step. He wants to tell Wei Ying that his brother won’t be long, that he’d promised Lan Wangji that much, but the worry on Wei Ying’s face quickly shifts into something much more mischievous. “Who’s gonna keep me from finding all your embarrassing baby pictures?”

In that same breath, all of the sympathy Lan Wangji might’ve had is gone, “Uncle keeps both mine and Xichen’s photos in a locked cabinet.” Lan Wangji wouldn’t say where, that would only give Wei Ying ideas, but he doesn’t back down.

“I can pick locks, you know.” Wei Ying takes his hand away and takes his warmth with it as he rocks back on his heels.

“You cannot.” Lan Wangji hadn’t ever seen Wei Ying pick a lock, but he couldn’t outright say that Wei Ying couldn’t, he could only say that he wasn’t allowed to do it here.

“If you leave me by myself, how are you going to make sure I don’t do anything? I bet you were a cute baby, Lan Zhan.” He knew when Wei Ying was trying to rile him up, Wei Ying didn’t even bother to hide it anymore and Lan Wangji no longer bothered with trying to act as though he were unaffected.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji starts, stepping down once more. He’s only standing on the bottom step now, and Wei Ying’s head is level with his chest with barely an inch between them.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying’s hands are behind his back now, but Lan Wangji knows just how quickly those hands can get into trouble.

Their staring contest lasts only a few seconds, deadlocked silence weighing between them before Lan Wangji feels himself break, sidestepping Wei Ying as he climbs off the last step, but catches his wrist at the last second and drags him back into the living room behind him.

Wei Ying’s too loud laughter bounces between the hallway and the living room and Lan Wangji’s grip on his wrist tightens before he can stop himself, his shoulders straightening out the next moment. He would not give Wei Ying the satisfaction of knowing that he’d ruffled him with what might have been empty threats. Those threats might have been completely unfounded, and Lan Wangji wouldn’t let himself find out either way, not today.

“Wei Ying should start before brother arrives, lessons will not take so long if you warm up before.” Lan Wangji would only stand in the living room with him to make sure he did it, he would not run Wei Ying through his exercises or guide his hands the way he’d watched his brother do, Wei Ying was far past the point of that being necessary.

It didn’t matter how much he wanted to.

To his credit, Wei Ying seems to consider it, setting his dizi case down on the coffee table and coming to stand just a few inches away from Lan Wangji, a look Lan Wangji couldn’t name spreading across his face before Lan Wangji even has the chance to think he might be up to something.

“When you say it like that, Lan Zhan, it sounds like you don’t want me around.” If Wei Ying notices Lan Wangji’s eyes widening by just a fraction, he has the kindness not to call him out for it, even as he takes another step closer and Lan Wangji wishes he had more room to back away.

“Is that it? Lan Zhan? Do you not want me here?” Wei Ying sounds quieter than he’d ever bothered to be in Lan Wangji’s presence, an honest frown pulling at his lips and Lan Wangji’s heart leaps up into his throat, dislodging the knot of words.

“No,” Lan Wangji answers, he knows his voice sounds rough, but he’s helpless to stop it as the truth comes spilling out, “I do not mind Wei Ying being here.” It doesn’t sound right, it doesn’t sound like enough, and when he dares to glance up at Wei Ying, he sees that he doesn’t altogether believe him.

“It’s okay if you don’t like me being here, Lan Zhan, Xichen-ge and I can always go back to practicing at my house-”

“No.”

Having Wei Ying in his house had driven Lan Wangji to distraction, but the thought of him leaving and never coming back is far, far worse.

“I like it when Wei Ying comes over.” Too much, Lan Wangji liked it too much when Wei Ying came over, he realizes, color starting at his ears and spreading down his neck and over his cheeks quickly. His fingers twitch and ache at his side to grab onto Wei Ying’s wrist again, to try and make him understand, but Lan Wangji thinks better of it, tucking both hands just behind his back.

Silence fills the air around them like flooding water and Lan Wangji is the first to look away, his chest already aching as if he were drowning. He should have gone up to his room and let Wei Ying do whatever he liked, he should have just asked his brother to cancel the lesson, he shouldn’t have-

Wei Ying steps forward and calls his name before Lan Wangji’s mind can spiral any further, his hand is warm, too warm, as he wraps his fingers around Lan Wangji’s wrist and pulls it from behind his back.

He expects Wei Ying to tease him and laugh, but he doesn’t, instead, he asks, too softly, “Lan Zhan, are you sure?”

Lan Wangji nods with a click in his throat, still unable to look up and meet Wei Ying’s eyes, even as the hold Wei Ying has on his wrist squeezes for just a second. “Do you want me to come over more?” The question is genuine enough that it makes Lan Wangji’s heart feel like it’s being squeezed.

“Wei Ying could if he wanted.” It wasn’t like Lan Wangji hadn’t ever thought of inviting Wei Ying over before, but the words had always died on the tip of his tongue whenever he tried to give them voice.

Suddenly there’s barely a breath left between them as Wei Ying comes closer, their noses just brushing as Lan Wangji’s head snaps up. “Wei Ying would like to.” Wei Ying says slowly, the words coming out of his mouth as clunkily as Lan Wangji always feels his do, though the smile on Wei Ying’s face is different now, it’s softer, sweeter. “If that’s what Lan Zhan wants too.”

Lan Wangji’s mouth falls open just slightly and his eyes drop down to the hand that’s still holding onto his wrist, his other hand coming up to hold onto Wei Ying’s wrist gently as he nods silently. His words are sticking in his throat again, but the way Wei Ying’s smile brightens tells him that he understands.

“You’re brother’s gonna be so jealous when he realizes that I’m not coming over just for lessons anymore.” Wei Ying laughs, and Lan Wangji feels a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Brother will live.”

#the untamed #mdzs #mdzs fic #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan zhan #wei ying #am i aware that courtesy names arent used modernly yes do i care not really #bc frankly using their birthnames is a lil uncomfy for me sometimes #ill put an ao3 link in my rb to my mainblog

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jpegjade · 4 years

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When the Party’s Over - Spencer

WHY IS THIS THE LONGEST THING IVE WRITTEN???? probably bc drunk me is wordy. i do talk a lot when i’m drunk and it gets on people’s nerves. i just really love you guys. i was sad when i wrote this, really sad, and it’s the first “smut”???? ive ever written. so here we go frens and ferns.

warnings: uuuhhhh smut???

________________

When the night started, you were at Rossi’s house, getting drunk with the team. It was right after a hard case, difficult on everyone’s psyche so Rossi invited everyone over to relax in the usual way. After pasta and drinks, most of the team was still there while Spencer offered to drive you home since you were not in the shape to drive and he was the only one who opted for water instead of alcohol. He was beat but he wasn’t in the mood to drink tonight.

Spencer was being a good friend but he had his motives. He wanted to talk to you in the car. You weren’t so drunk that you wouldn’t remember the conversation but your inhibitions were lowered enough to be truly and completely honest with him so you were the slightest bit tipsy but not drunk. You were 100% lucid and could think for yourself but you took the excuse to drink some of the smirnoff you brought and keep going.

He wasn’t planning for it to happen like this but you were being very outspoken to everyone at the party so he figured it was time to get you home before you were out of a job after calling Hotch, “Hotchner the Grouch.” They found it funny but Spencer knew that you could go wrong easily.

“Spencer Reid.” You said, staring at him. “I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be as honest as I’m being right now.”

“Okay. I promise to be honest.” Spencer said, a little nervous. He chuckled anyway because you were so adamant that he answered honestly.

“Do you like me?” You asked, suddenly very serious.

“Y/n, you’re my best friend. Of course I like you.” Spencer tried to give you an answer that wouldn’t expose his real thoughts.

For the past few months, Spencer thought about you a lot. It caused him to avoid you a little bit but you wouldn’t let him stray too far away from you. You kept texting him outside of the team group chat. You continued inviting him over for dinner. You never relented on checking in with his mental health. You never gave up on your relationship with him.

You were so focused on his jawline that your hand worked by itself, poking his face. He smiled and made the turn into your apartment complex’s parking lot and parked.

“While I appreciate the validation of our friendship, that’s not what I mean and you know it.” You said, very serious.

Spencer looked over at you, nervous to answer. He swallowed and took a shaky breath.

“Y/n, is it really important?” Spencer tried to avoid the conversation.

He opened the door and got out, walking quickly around to your side of the car to open the door. He didn’t have to but he wanted to. It’s always what he did.

“Yes, it’s important, Spencer. I want to know.” You bumped shoulders with him as the two of you walked to your apartment on the third floor.

Spencer sighed.

“Yes, I like you. A lot…” You and Spencer arrived at your door, handing you your keys.

You just stood there, staring up at Spencer. You reached up to touch his hair. It was so soft… You wrapped your fingers around one of the curls and smiled. Spencer stood there, nose ghosting over yours.

“Do you want to come in?” It was barely audible but it was there.

“I shouldn’t. You’re not sober. Unless you just want to hang out.” He said, looking at his wing tip shoes.

“Spencer, get in here. I have literally been waiting almost a whole year for you to say that.” You pulled him to you by his tie and kissed him.

*****

It was tentative at first. It tasted like spearmint gum. Spencer wasn’t chewing any at the moment so you guessed that he had been chewing it earlier. You liked that. It was refreshing. Slowly, Spencer got more comfortable with the kiss and relaxed and got more involved. It was sweet and gentle and soft. You felt his hands in your hair and felt the gentle pull and you released an involuntary moan. You could feel Spencer smile, the two of you momentarily breaking apart.

Breaking apart left you speechless and in a daze. It was almost like you were in a fog but your head was clear. You were more than ready to do what you had been thinking about with Spencer for the past year. Some part of you needed this release while the other part of you needed him.

“So inside?” You said. “The apartment, I mean.”

“Yeah.” Spencer said, just as dazed.

Getting in the door was a task by itself. You and Spencer tried to go in at the same time and it was quite awkward but he let you go in first.

You closed the door behind you, pressing your back to the cold surface. Scanning Spencer’s face, you saw that he was staring at your lips.

“Do you want to continue here or should we...” He asked, looking back up at your eyes.

“You tell me. I’ll let you take control tonight.” You said, smirking.

Spencer clenched and unclenched his jaw nervously before licking his lips. You always liked when he did that. He wore chapstick but he never did it for anything other than a sign that he was thinking.

“I haven’t been in your apartment before.” He said, gingerly. He smiled as you took his hand, guiding him to your bedroom.

You grabbed your cat off the bed, putting it outside the bedroom and shooing it away. The cat sauntered around to find somewhere else to sleep.

“Are we really about to do this?” Spencer asked, looking at you on the bed.

Laying back on the bed, half of you held up by your elbows, you marveled at Spencer. The light from your hallway illuminated his silhouette very nicely. You could see the curves of his arms and his slender frame very clearly.

“Do you want to do it?” You said, tilting your head a little bit.

“Yeah, a lot.” Spencer said, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

He had dreamed about this moment, literally, but he didn’t know he would be so nervous. He didn’t think it would ever happen. He never imagined you’d be laying in front of him like this.

“Then drop the pants and I’ll drop to my knees,” You smirked.

“Do you mind if we skip that part?” Spencer said not really in the mood for a blow job.

It wasn’t that he was opposed to it, it’s just that he didn’t want to think of you like that yet. He felt like those experiences were for days where there wasn’t much time. Tonight, you had all the time in the world.

“You’re telling me you don't want my mouth on your dick?” You said, confused.

You stood up, getting close to Spencer. You started unbuckling his belt and he audibly swallowed. He was nervous, not because of you but because he wanted this to go right. There was pressure when it came to something so intimate for the first time with someone. He felt your hands on his hips once you got his belt undone.

“Shoes on or off?” He asked.

“I’m taking my shoes off, obviously.” You said, already flipping them off. “Oh, you mean you. Well depends on what you want to do. You can bend me over the side of the bed, fuck me from behind, and call it a night. Or, if you want to draw it out, you can climb on top of me and fuck me in the bed. Oh, there’s also shower sex if you feel gross. Wouldn’t recommend it because it’s slippery and counterproductive to me getting wet.” You were rambling off some of the many fantasies and logistics that you’d thought about over the past year. You had thought about it a lot.

Spencer kissed you. He just wanted you to take a breath because the more you talked about what you thought about, the more he thought about it. And the more he thought about all the ways he wanted to make love to you, the more he just wanted to get started.

“Spencer, please pick somewhere because I’m literally struggling to keep it together.” You said in a low tone.

“Clothes off, on the bed, legs open. I’ve got you tonight, baby.” Spencer said with a little more confidence.

“Yes, sir.” You said, getting undressed.

Spencer watched you but at the same time, he got dressed down to his boxers. Staring at you, he wondered how you were able to stay so calm on the outside right now. He didn’t usually have the sex drive as high as this moment. His body was on fire with desire and excitement but he was trying so hard to contain it.

You laid down in the bed, just like Spencer told you to. He flipped on the light and you protested lightly with a groan and covered your face with both hands.

“I want to watch you come all over me and lose complete control of your body. I can’t do that in the dark.” He said, walking over to the bed.

“Well damn. Look at you, Spence. Actually showing some confidence. About damn time.” You said, smiling. You loved confident Spencer in all aspects of life, not just here. There was something about him that made you...want to be laid out in front of him, completely naked like you were now.

“I honestly don’t know where I want to start…” Spencer said. Climbing onto the bed, he did the first thing that came to mind.

“What’s your line?” He said, kissing your inner thigh, right above your knee.

“Fuck, uh…�� You never really thought of it in relation to Spencer. “Just don’t kill me.” You nervously chuckled.

More thigh kisses. You wanted to grab your phone and put on some background music but it was just out of reach and Spencer’s arms looped through your legs and pinned your waist down to the bed. His grip was pretty firm.

“Spence, can we…” A deep moan cut you off and slipped out your mouth when you felt his mouth finally where you wanted him.

“Hmm?” Spencer looked up at you while his mouth went to work. The vibrations sent shockwaves up your body.

“Holy shit. More.” You said. More was what he gave you, slipping in two fingers that matched the tempo that his mouth set.

You were almost there, Spencer’s hair firmly in your hand and his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer, when Spencer slowed down and all together stopped.

“I swear to god the room better be of fire.” You said, gritting your teeth. You were so, so close and he was being a tease.

“You’re being a brat, baby. I promise I’ll give you exactly what you’re looking for.” Spencer said, looking for a towel.

“Don’t be a wuss. Kiss me.” You said, drawing his attention away from his towel search. He was nervous that you wouldn’t want to kiss him after he just went down on you. Crawling on top of you, he just stared at your features before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down to you.

You hated breaking apart from kissing him, you really did. It left you in a daze, making the light seem a little too bright for your eyes. He rushed over to his satchel, digging in its contents to find the condom Morgan gave him for emergency purposes as a joke one day. Who knew it would come in handy.

“Are you ready?” You asked Spencer. He chuckled.

“I was just about to ask if you were ready.” Spencer went back to being a little awkward. He was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to keep up with you.

“Spencer are you sure you don’t want me to help you out?” You asked, watching him shift as he got rid of his underwear.

“I think I’m okay.” He said, blushing.

“Okay well let me know if… Spencer, what the fuck?” You asked, looking down, between the two of you. “And you expect me to take all of that?”

“Is it bad? I know I’m not like other guys but…” Spencer grew a little shy.

“No, just work your magic because you’re different than most guys. Spence, just be confident because you are very special.” You said, hoping it helped him come back out of his shell.

“Breathe, okay? It might be a little… Much.” Spencer said, lining himself up with you.

“I’m fi…” You were cut off as he gently pushed into you. “Holy shit!” Was all you could breathe out while you tried to catch your breath. Much was an understatement with what you felt from Spencer just barely being inside of you.

He paused to let you adjust but it was tough. You could feel yourself stretching when he started moving a little more to help you relax. He took your leg and hitched it around his waist, making you gasp in shock. That was a completely new sensation that sped up your heart rate even faster, your head getting slightly dizzy.

“Stay with me, darling, okay?” He whispered in your ear.

If you weren’t all in with Spencer before, your feelings were definitely there now.

The pace he set was slow and gentle, soft and delicate like he didn’t want to break you. It was just like you imagined it. Your hands intertwined with Spencer’s as he treated you so kindly. You felt pressure just below your stomach and it was like you couldn’t do anything but shut your eyes and let your body feel it.

“Just keep breathing, okay? It makes it last longer.” Spencer said, trying to stay focused. His brain was going through the female anatomy but he wanted to stay focused. He opened his eyes as he continued pushing himself in and out of you. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable, taking his right hand and moving his thumb over your cheek. You looked so soft under him.

“Faster.” You whimpered, the only thing you could manage.

Everything felt nice, it felt comfortable. You were comfortable with Spencer. You thought it would be hotter, more dramatic when you would imagine it. You imagined him grabbing your hips and plunging himself into you until your body was exhausted and used. But that’s not how it worked.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, quietly. He was going faster and a bit harder, making it very hard for you to concentrate.

“I’m…” You couldn’t think of the answer. You couldn’t think at all right then.

“You’re doing such a good job, love. Just relax, I’ve got you.” Spencer kissed you on the forehead before shifting your leg a bit higher on his hip. That ignited something inside of you that was hard to turn off.

Your body was on pins and needles. You felt your body shaking as you held onto Spencer’s hand. He kissed you, soft and slightly frenzied. He was chasing his own release so quickly. Everything moved so smoothly between the two of you.

Spencer’s body rolled into yours like the ocean, and you were the beach. His waves rushed into your shore over and over, filling you with pleasure you couldn’t find on your own. He was kissing your neck, marking you with sweet mumbles of, “I’m all yours.”

“Spence…” Another instance of being unable to think or speak clearly.

“I know, I know. And I want you to let it go for me. Be good for me and let go, y/n. I’m right here.” He said, kissing you deeply.

Spencer pushed into you a little sloppier, trying to stay composed but it was a challenge. He wanted to make sure you rode out your high, which you were definitely doing. Your body was shaking and you were out of it a little bit as you came down. Spencer finished in the condom and kissed you so many times that you lost count. Your cheeks, your neck, your lips, forehead, nose, lips again.

“Spencer, that was… That was nice.” You said, opening your eyes. He was smiling over you, shaking a little bit. You weren’t sure if his arms were tired or if he felt like you did. You hoped to god that he felt like you did. It worked out so well up to this point.

He rolled off of you, standing up to get that towel to clean you up. He saw the bathroom door cracked open so he slipped the condom off and put his star trek underwear back on as he went into the bathroom and warmed up a small towel and grabbed a big towel.

“I got aftercare towels.” He said, walking back into the room.

You had curled up into yourself, laying down on your side, as you fell asleep slowly. You heard him come back into the room and smiled as he cleaned you up and helped you put a t-shirt on. Putting the towels in your wastebasket, he flipped the overhead light off and came back around to the opposite side of the bed and gently nudged you to let him hold you.

“How do you feel?” Spencer asked, nuzzling his head into the crook between your shoulder and your neck.

He felt so warm on your back like that, holding you tight. You felt safe and secure.

“Spence, I love you.” You mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear.

“I love you too, y/n,” Spencer said, falling asleep himself.

________________

taglist:

@i-love-you-green

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

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worldwidemochiguy · 4 years

Text

Reticence (soft! Yandere Hoseok)

Summary: You were always terrified of getting kidnapped when you were younger, and now that you’ve been taken by a man who claims to want to take care of you, you recede within yourself so far you refuse to even eat... but Hoseok is determined to let nothing hurt you, not even yourself.

Warnings: Kidnapping, kind of Stockholm syndrome, mentions of not eating so if you’re sensitive to that kind of stuff pls be careful <3 Yandere behaviour, though I am kind of romanticising it in this fic, please remember that that is all it is: Fiction. Obviously in real life this behaviour would be unacceptable and horrifying.

Word Count: 2.2K

Masterlist :)

a/n: my first hobi fic!!! this is for @kpopgirlbtssvt from a request made about a billion years ago (sorry :/ ) for made-for-each-other verse! Yandere Hobi with a shy reader who wouldn’t talk even though he begged her to, and then him coming home from work to her telling him she missed him and was glad he was home. this was a lil less fluffy and a lil more angsty than i intended, but its still a ‘happy ending’ bc im a weak bitch with simple pleasures, what can i say lmao

Reticence

“What do you want for breakfast, sunshine?”

Silence.

Hoseok sighed, then straightened up again, walking over to the refrigerator. You remained sat by the kitchen island, empty gaze fixed on the marble countertop.

“Omelettes it is, then!” He exclaimed with artificial excitement, trying to be cheery in the face of your taciturnity, but even the sunshiney optimist that was Hoseok was finding it more difficult than he expected. He had hoped that by now you would’ve accepted him, but you remained as quiet and unresponsive as the day he brought you home. Not that you thought of it as ‘home’ yet, but he hoped you would eventually. Hoseok was not a patient man, but he was willing to wait forever for you.

You didn’t even blink when he set the plate down in front of you. It didn’t seem like you were going to attempt to eat it either. Hoseok sighed. He could understand if you didn’t want to talk to him yet — even though it had been months and he’d been nothing but kind to you — but he drew the line at refusing to eat.

You had lost weight. The cute cheeks he loved to watch bunch up as you smiled were now sunken. Your beautiful figure which he had admired from afar was starting to become worryingly waif-like. Hoseok frowned, a crinkle between his brows forming for the first time as his usually exuberant features warped with agitation.

“Listen, Y/n-” Hoseok sat down at the kitchen island across from you, bracing his forearms against the table and leaning forwards. “You have to eat. I promise there’s nothing in it that could hurt you. Look, I’ll even eat it myself!” Hoseok carved out a small piece of the omelette and popped it in his mouth, exaggerating his chewing and swallowing. “See?” You offered no reaction, and Hoseok felt his disappointment join the omelette on its way down to his stomach.

“I can understand that you maybe aren’t so happy with me right now, but that doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself. Just, please, please stop shutting me out.” His pleading tone did nothing to move you. You just sat there like a ghost, and a groan of frustration slipped out of Hoseok.

“Please! I’m begging you! Just eat! I don’t understand, all I want to do is take care of you! All I want to do is love you, why won’t you accept me? Why won’t you even talk to me?”

The only sound was Hoseok’s harsh breaths after his outburst. If he couldn’t see the slow rise and fall of your chest, Hoseok would think you weren’t alive at all. He slumped in his seat, allowing himself to wallow in self-pity for a moment, before forcing himself to get up and ready for work. When he passed through the kitchen again on his way out the door you were still sitting there, staring at the countertop.

The front door banged shut, the sound echoing in the apartment. Then, silence. And then, very quietly, the noises of cutlery moving against a plate and chewing.

~~~~~~

“I don’t know what to do~” Hoseok whined, his head buried in his hands. Around him, his shocked friends were gathered in an informal circle. Each of them had an expression with varying degrees of surprise and confusion — they had never seen Hoseok, the literal personification of sunshine, so dismayed.

“It’ll be ok, Hoseok. I know it’s bad at the moment, but you just have to wait until she trusts you. Once you achieve her trust, you’ll both be the happiest you’ve ever been.” Taehyung reassured him. Taehyung was obviously the source of authority, since him and his wife were basically the perfect couple.

“But what if she never trusts me?” Hoseok fretted, before groaning again. “She won’t even eat! I don’t know what to do, I’m just watching her slowly starve in front of me and she won’t even look at me!” The rest of the group paused as they digested this new information. It seemed this girl was particularly stubborn.

“Force feed her then.” Jin shrugged and Hoseok’s head shot up in outrage.

“No! I could never hurt her like that!”

“You’re hurting her by letting her starve.” Jeongguk pointed out, and Namjoon smacked the back of his head, chastising. Meanwhile, Hoseok looked like he was about to cry.

“Listen, Hoseok, are you sure this girl is the one?” Jimin questioned, bracing his clasped hands on his knees.

“I know she is.” Hoseok replied with a conviction he rarely used. “The second she came into my life, it was like I was born again and she was the first thing I saw. The only thing I could see. Her face- God, it just… glows. She’s like sunshine. She’s an angel. She’s so beautiful and kind and fragile and I want to protect her from everything, and I don’t deserve her but no one else does either and I know we’re meant to be together. If I thought I could’ve let her go, I would have. But I can’t. I have to have her, she has to be mine.”

The circle of men was quiet for a second, before a quiet chuckle broke the silence.

“Well then,” Yoongi rasped, “if she’s all that you say she is-”

“She is.” Hoseok interjected fiercely.

“Then all you can do is have a little patience.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It was incredibly boring being kidnapped. Especially when your kidnapper did nothing interesting except make bad food and dance along to music from the TV surprisingly well and cry sometimes when you wouldn’t look at him. Frankly, it would have been easier if he were more of the torturey-type, because it was really hard to stay stubborn in the face of his sparkling eyes and radiant smile.

When you were younger, there was a poster up on the wall of your homeroom at school. On it was an old man with an ugly sneer and a beige trench-coat, with the slogan ‘DON’T TALK TO STRANGERS’ superimposed in glaring red letters. You used to stare up at the poster and wonder how anyone could be so stupid as to talk to someone who looked like that.

You were never afraid to yell ‘STRANGER DANGER’ at the highest decibel your little lungs could manage whenever a person brushed too close to you in the mall. It was almost a habit — you were avidly fixated on your own personal safety, much to your mother’s chagrin and public embarrassment. Being banned from all the surrounding stores within a 20 mile radius had two consequences:

You had to drive forty minutes for a new pair of socks.

You stayed at home a lot more than you went out.

You became a homebody, and it was certainly not something you were unhappy about. Staying safe in your room meant there was less risk for someone to kidnap you. The comforting layer of your blanket was a shield from everything bad in the world. When your parents were arguing constantly, screaming at each other every other night, you would just tuck yourself in and read a bedtime story on your own since they were both occupied. When your parents eventually divorced, you buried yourself under your duvet rather than answer their questions about who you wanted to stay with, and what your preference was. When your mom died in a car crash, and your dad started drinking, your mattress was the shoulder you could cry on, your blanket was a warm arm holding you close. You had always felt safe in your bed. Perhaps that was why you were having such an averse reaction to being taken from it.

Hoseok was not a man with an ugly sneer and a trench coat. He had an impeccable sense of style, and his smile was breathtaking on the few occasions that it appeared. You more often saw his face twisted into a pained grimace. For a kidnapper, he was awfully sensitive. You were pretty sure it was reasonable for you to be holding grudge, and it’s not as if you were actively fighting against him or anything. You were just refusing to acknowledge him. You were highly skilled at repressing things, or ignoring them, and you were resolved to do the same now.

By 7 o’ clock, your resolve was slightly eroded. Hoseok always arrived back at half-past 5 on the dot. He was a very punctual person, and you felt an unwelcome sense of worry curl along the edges of your mind as the clock counted away the seconds of him not being there. You remembered feeling the same way when you waited for your mom to pick you up from your dads, watching the clock hand sweep past the numbers, increasingly taunting. Of course, you hadn’t realised that she was at the time caught in between a lorry with a drunk driver and a very steep incline. You wondered if you were being similarly clueless now.

When the door clicked open at quarter to 9, you had to restrain yourself from exhaling in relief. Hoseok came in looking slightly disheveled, his collar undone and his hair mussed as if he had ran his hands through it over and over again. He gave you a quick once over to see if you were alright, shot you a small, forced smile and then went straight to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

That was odd. He never closed the door to his bedroom. He had always left it open in case you needed anything, despite your refusal to acknowledge him. First, his late arrival and now yet another uncommon action? You felt curiosity bubble within you. That was it. Curiosity. It’s not that you were at all worried about him, you were just being nosy. Of course.

You tiptoed towards the door, tracing a finger around the door frame lightly. What if he didn’t even come out again for dinner? You doubted he had dined out without you, he had been eating his meals sitting across from you while you refused to touch yours since the day he stole you. You really should check on him, if only for the fact that if he dies then you’re trapped here with a high chance of starvation.

Before you could convince yourself not to, you opened the door and stepped inside. The only light-source came from the moonlight filtering through the window, casting Hoseok’s form lying on the bed in a deep blue. His eyes, which you assumed had been closed previously, shot open to observe you as he propped himself up on the backs of his forearms.

“Y/n.” He rasped, and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine. “D-do you need anything?” His tone was both excited and confused, probably because you had literally never directly interacted with him before.

You didn’t speak, and for the first time your silence was due to speechlessness, rather than a conscious desire.

“I-I, uh,” You stuttered, and Hoseok sat up ramrod straight, hearing your voice for the first time. “You… were late home.”

Hoseok felt like he couldn’t breathe. Your voice was so soft and pretty, fuck, and you were actually looking at him, you were actually talking to him, holy shit- and you called the apartment home. You said he was late ‘home’. Hoseok somehow managed to keep his shit together.

“I was?”

“Yes.” You confirmed with a small nod of your head. Fuck, you were so cute. “You normally come back at half five. It’s almost nine now.”

“I’m sorry. I was working late.” He was staying at the office because he felt guilty for not taking proper care of you and wanted to avoid seeing the proof of your unhappiness, but you didn’t need to know that.

“It’s ok.”

You remained standing at the foot of the bed, locked in his gaze. The bed looked so comfortable, moulding to support his body, and his warm body was exactly the comforting presence you were searching for all those years ago and you found yourself asking,

“Can I sleep in the bed with you?”

It was a quiet, timid suggestion but Hoseok reacted to it like a bombshell. His eyes practically popped out of their sockets and his entire body tensed. You were about to rescind your offer when he reached out a tugged a corner of the blanket down, welcoming you into the warmth.

You awkwardly sat on the edge of the mattress, nudging off your house slippers with your toes before slipping under the covers. The relief was instantaneous, shrouded in comforting and familiar warmth, and you couldn’t stop yourself from plastering yourself against his side, arm reaching out tentatively to rest on his chest. You felt his muscles jump under your touch, before his arm slid under you and tucked around your shoulders, drawing you into him closer. You closed your eyes, letting out a quiet little sigh, and you let yourself say the words you wish you could’ve said all those years ago when your mother never returned.

“I’m glad you’re home. I missed you.”

#yandere bts #soft yandere bts #bts hoseok #bts jhope #bts hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #yandere hoseok x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #jung hoseok

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niksixx · 4 years

Text

Homecoming

Requested: By a lovely Anon!

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Female Reader

Description: “I’m sending an ask now for tomorrow (12th) bc I’m in a different time zone and don’t wanna miss the first day submitting requests because I love your writing so much! Can you do a Nikki x Reader, of Nikki having been on tour, and when he gets back he’s missed the reader so much that all he wants to do is please her, and he asks her to ride his thigh and then his face? Ahhh! With lots of dirty talk and praise. Thankyouuuuu”

Warning: Smut

A/N: If you enjoyed this, leave a comment!

*GIF is not mine, credits to the owner*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten more minutes, just ten more minutes Nikki thought to himself, eagerly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. It had been a long seven months of touring different cities in Europe, and though Nikki was living the dream with his three best friends, there was a woman waiting for him at home who he could not wait to see.

The calls, the texts, the sexts, nothing compared to seeing your face and holding you against his chest. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on your body, his mouth on your sweet lips. Just thinking about all the sex he’d be having to make up for lost time caused him to groan loudly inside his car as the fabric of his jeans constricted against his tight bulge.

As your house came into view, goosebumps littered Nikki’s arms. Intense excitement coursed through his body. Nikki wanted his homecoming to be a surprise, so he had given you a fake return home date when you’d called him the week prior.

With suitcases beside him and other bags slung over his shoulders, Nikki quietly fished for his key, gently turning it in the knob before pushing the door open. The house was unusually quiet, and for a moment Nikki thought you may have gotten stuck at work, but when he heard the shower running as he approached your bedroom, his face broke out in a smirk.

He perched himself on the bed just as the water shut off, clasping his hands together between his legs. Any second now…

Nikki’s heart raced as you stepped in the room, body covered by a towel as water droplets slid down your body. Looking up from the floor, you immediately let out a scream, running forward and tackling Nikki to the bed.

“Oh, my god! Baby, what? You’re here!” The words came rushing out of your mouth, smushing together in one erratic sentence. Never in a million years did you expect Nikki to surprise you, but boy were you glad he did. “How is this possible?”

“I was always coming home today,” Nikki grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Sitting up off the bed, Nikki adjusted you against his lap. “How are you, baby girl?”

“A lot better now,” you admitted, the tears in the corners of your eyes betraying you. It had been so long since you last hugged your boyfriend, felt his skin, touched his hair, kissed his lips. The last few months had been so lonely with just you at home, trying to come up with new ways to distract yourself. You cooked, painted, learned how to sew, but none of those activities made the time pass. “I’ve been so lonely without you, Sixx. I know touring is your job, and no one supports you more than I do, you know that baby, but it’s been hard for me.”

Pulling you against his chest, Nikki buried his face in the crook of your neck, the fresh scent of soap filling his nostrils. “I’m here now, love. I promise. And I’m not going anywhere for a long time, so you’ll have me all to yourself.”

You hummed against Nikki’s head, the soft sound sending a rush of blood straight to his cock. God, he couldn’t wait to completely ravish you for hours. Seven months without sex? How the fuck had he managed that?

“I haven’t even been able to…you know…please myself properly,” you whispered, cheeks burning as Nikki’s jaw clenched. To your surprise, the towel wrapped around you had been peeled off by Nikki’s hands, and now you were perched against his jean-clad thigh, completely exposed. Your bare clit brushed against the rough fabric, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“Don’t you worry,” Nikki said, lips brushing against yours as his hands squeezed your hips. “I’m gonna take good care of you.” His hands guided your hips in a slow back and forth motion, a harsh breath escaping your mouth. You held on to Nikki’s shoulders as your hips followed his motions, the feeling of the crisp material meshing perfectly with your delicate clit.

“That’s right, baby, keep that pretty pussy right here for me,” Nikki was an expert at dirty talk, always had been. He never held back either, always whispering in your ear with his low, gravelly voice. “How’s that feel, baby?”

A hushed moan, followed by a drawn out “fuck” was the only answer you could manage. It pleased Nikki to see you get off on just his thigh. It was something you’d never tried in the bedroom, but now it was the only thing Nikki wanted to do. He was fully clothed himself, but seeing his woman, his sweet, beautiful lady, naked and writhing as her pussy rubbed against his thigh was the best sight to come home to.

“Nikki, fuck, faster,” Pleading wasn’t something you found yourself doing much with Nikki. Occasionally, he’d make you beg for it, whether it be his fingers or his tongue, but for the most part, Nikki didn’t play games when it came to sex. “Please, please, faster.”

Nikki gripped your waist tighter, fingertips digging into your skin. Hard enough to keep you steady, but not enough to cause you pain. Your head fell back in total pleasure, a groan slipping past your mouth as that familiar ball of pressure built up in your lower stomach.

“Oh God, Nikki, I’m gonna come,” Pushing forward, desperate for a release, you rubbed your clit harder against his jeans, collapsing into Nikki’s arms as your orgasm rocked through your body. You rode out the high, juices sliding down your thigh and staining Nikki’s pants. You glanced up from the wet spot on Nikki’s pants, the lust in his eyes making you hot all over again. “Holy fuck, I needed that,” you said, flashing a satisfied smile. As you went to stand and clean off your legs, Nikki pulled you toward him.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” Desire dripped from Nikki’s voice as he pulled off his shirt, licking his lips as he lie on his back. “Come sit on your throne, princess.”

His voice alone sent jolts of electricity through your body. With shaky legs, you crawled up Nikki’s body, positioning your pussy at his mouth. A squeal fell from your lips as he pulled you down to his mouth, his warm tongue darting up and down your pussy skillfully. As Nikki feasted on your body, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling gently, which you knew he loved.

“The sweetest pussy I’ve ever had,” The quick flits of his tongue drove you wild, the vibrations from his voice sending you into a frenzy. “So fucking good, baby.”

Aside from today, the last time you had experienced an orgasm was the night before Nikki left for tour. It’d been a night of sensual foreplay and making love until three in the morning. After he left, you found it extremely hard to get off. Vibrators, dildos, and even your own fingers didn’t seem to do the trick. But now that Nikki was back, you were on the brink of your second orgasm.

“You ready to come for me, sweetheart?” Nikki asked, sucking your clit between his lips. Your face scrunched as Nikki flattened his tongue against your pussy one last time. “Come for me, baby.”

And his words had you come undone. Your legs shook violently as your second orgasm crashed over your body, whimpers leaving your lips and Nikki continued to lap at your clit. After what seemed to be a minute-long orgasm, you buckled next to Nikki, sweat coating your body.

“I am so glad you’re home,” you said, finally catching your breath.

Chuckling, Nikki gathered you in his arms, lovingly kissing your head. “Me too, pretty girl, me too. I’ve missed you,” he stated honestly. “And since I’m not going anywhere for a very long time,” Rolling on top of your body, Nikki kissed your lips before reaching a hand between your thighs, fingers gently rubbing your sore clit. “I’m going to please you. All. Night. Long.”

And as his fingers dipped between your slick folds, you knew that Nikki would be determined to give you one more orgasm until he was completely and utterly satisfied. And you? Well, you didn’t mind one bit.

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trash-writings · 4 years

Note

oooh can i have a NSFW scenario where reader misses Ilumi after lots of missions and he reassures her *wink wink*

Thank you for waiting so long for this! I hope you love it bc you’re like the illumi queen :) It was hard writing this with your avi of him is staring deep into my soul, shaming me.

Little side note: I included a bit of drinking in this, please drink responsibly everyone.

You laid the baby down in his crib thanking whatever was in the formula Kikyo had given you to help relax him after a rough day of teething. While you were resistant to allow her to help given the way her children had turned out, you needed help after two long months of being without Illumi. Whatever job he had taken was taking way too long. You missed him, even though he was distant and cold most of the time he was always helpful with your son.

The only good thing about being left alone on the Zoldyk estate was the assistance at night from the butlers when you needed extra rest. Tonight was one of those nights. Giving two of the butlers' instructions for his care tonight you walk next door to your bedroom to get ready for a long-overdue shower that would last more than a few minutes.

Maybe a glass of wine tonight would be good... you think to yourself while slipping into a comfortable nightgown. You call for a bottle and plan on only having one glass, but eventually, it turns into finishing the bottle and watching tv until you finally drift to sleep.

The bed shifts slightly stirring you awake. Rubbing your eyes you are surprised to find Illumi crawling into bed with you. “Lumi!” you smile pulling him down on top of you into a tight hug.

“What are you doing?” illumi is surprised by your unusual burst of affection. You kiss him softly.

“I missed you, it’s hard here without you.” You tell him honestly.

“I’m sorry.” You huff at him. “I won’t be gone as long next time.” He props himself up on one shoulder, using his free hand to caress your cheek softly.

“When is next time?” You furrow your brows already becoming annoyed with his next job. Even his sweet gesture on your cheek doesn’t cheer you up with this information.

“A few days.”

“Illumi.,” you whine, knowing it’s probably still the alcohol in your veins making you feel more than usual when it comes to his work.

“I can make it up to you,” his hand trails down trout collarbone and over your breasts atop the thin fabric of your nightgown. As his fingertips tease your nipples slowly you groan, you needed him more than you had thought. Your body seemingly reacting on its own to his touch.

“Illumi,” your gasp as his fingers tease the outside of your panties. The pressure on your clit is nearly enough to make you come undone after months of missing his touch. You pull his face down to yours, kissing him passionately. His fingers push your underwear aside and his slender fingers slip into you making you break the kiss to moan out.

You claw at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against your own. He notices your urgent and pulls his fingers out from you to undress and pull your clothes off. He’s quick yo jump back on top of you. His eagerness turns you on, usually, his attitude towards sex wasn’t nearly as desperate.

His lips graze your neck, collarbone, and trail down to your nipples. His tongue swirls around one making it perk up. As your lips part to moan softly his cock teases your entrance before he thrusts deep inside you. Illumi lets out a soft groan sending small vibrations on your nipple. Illumi releases your nipple and he nibbles sweetly at your earlobe.

“You must have really missed me,” his raspy tone and combination of deep thrusts causing you to arch your back. “You’re so wet,” he groans thrusting into your harder than before.

“Fuck,” you groan loudly as he begins hitting your g-spot relentlessly. His pace became even more intense, making you cry out more often.

“You’re filthy tonight,” he groans pushing your right leg up against your chest, giving him deeper access. He kisses you once more, his tongue exploring your mouth briefly. “I can taste the alcohol on you too. No wonder you’re so desperate.”

Illumi rarely talked during intercourse, but this was nearly too much. You knew he was probably angry with you for drinking, but if this would make him fuck you more passionately maybe it was something you’d do more often. You feel your walls clench around his cock and you cum moaning a mixture of his name and curses.

Illumi’s eyes close concentrating on his last few thrusts before cumming in you. He rests his forehead on yours, breathing harder as he comes down from his high. Kissing the tip of your nose lightly, he pulls out and lays on the bed beside you.

“I missed you as well.” He says softly as you curl up against him. His fingers brush through your hair a few times before settling between your shoulder blades. While his words are somewhat monotone, at least he was saying them. Something changed while he was gone, he must have had a rough time without you as well. The thought of him missing you while he was away helps you go back to a peaceful sleep.

#illumi zoldyck #hxh #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter requests #hunterxhunter #hunter x hunter headcanon

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tintinwrites · 4 years

Text

out of my dreams | Modern!Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader | Part One

A/N: Hey ladies and gents if you ever get married definitely make sure your wedding night is worth 2.5k words alright

Rating: M

Warning: Smut 18+. Naughty words. Age gap relationship bc they’re adults and love is love is love is love.

Word count: 2,537, apparently!!

Summary: It’s the night of your and Poe’s wedding, and you agreed not to have sex for the week leading up to it.

GIF credit: realoscarisaac

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

You’d been staring at yourself in the mirror for quite a bit despite having told Poe you only needed a minute to ‘slip into something way less comfortable’.

Was the underwire and sparkling lace poking and scratching at you? Sure, but you had specifically picked this white, glittering number out at a fairly expensive store and you were glad that you did.

You looked damn good.

It wasn’t the first time you’d bought lingerie to wear in the bedroom, but usually it was a little nightgown you picked up for fifteen bucks while buying other things or a pair of skimpy panties you knew would be appreciated for the millisecond they stayed on you.

But this...you decided on the color white as if the traditional color was meant to extend into the wedding night, a bra and underwear set with little lace details stitched onto the shimmering fabric.

You didn’t know if it was conceited of you to think that you looked quite ethereal; you ultimately concluded that women were allowed to think they were hot when they did.

Your breasts had never looked perkier and you looked pretty bangable if you did say so yourself in the lace panties and stockings with the garters that had taken you several minutes to figure out.

And with the price, and the work to put it on, and how attractive you found yourself, you really hoped Poe would like it.

You knew he would, yet you were almost nervous for some reason.

It wasn’t the first time you bought lingerie and it definitely wasn’t the first time you were going to have sex with Poe, and a lot of people who already had sex with each other usually didn’t care about their wedding night and would instead drink until the wee hours of the morning with all their wedding guests.

You and Poe, however, hadn’t had sex in about a week.

And you craved it.

Your first deal you made was to wait a month with no sex to make your wedding night all the more special.

Then you rode Poe as he laid back against the pillows looking at you with admiration that night.

Then you agreed to three weeks and Poe returned home from work saying how he’d been thinking about eating you out which you simply couldn’t decline.

Then you agreed to two week which might’ve worked if you didn’t beg your fiance to — and you could quote this word for word — ‘rail me against the counter until I’m screaming for you’.

Then you agreed to one week and you managed to keep your hands off each other with a lot of self-control.

People were usually surprised when they found out you two had been together for a couple years already with how much you were still into each other.

Some people who’d known you since you got together still disapproved of you being together.

You’d been fresh out of college and working at a coffee shop while you looked for a job when you met Poe, a test pilot who was almost ten years out of college.

How were you supposed to turn the guy down when he looked like that and he was genuinely good and he revealed to you on your first date that he came into your coffee shop every morning even though it was out of the way of his work?

You loved each other and that was the only thing that mattered, and anyone who disagreed could go be bitter somewhere outside of your lives.

“Mrs. Dameron,” Poe sang from outside the door.

“Sorry, babe.” You looked yourself over one more time then opened the door, stepping into your bedroom.

“—fuck.”

“You like it?”

Poe’s answer was to caress your hips and pull you against him, kissing you deeply.

Your hands slid up his chest to find that his suit jacket was off and his collar was hanging open since he’d taken his tie off and undone the first button of his shirt. You gripped his shoulders, nuzzling his jaw as he broke the kiss. “Are you a virgin?” You whispered.

He huffed a laugh, reaching up to snap the stark white strap of your bra against your shoulder.

“I thought you were the virgin.”

“White doesn’t mean you’re a virgin anymore.”

“That reminds me, I don’t think I told you how beautiful you looked today in your dress.”

“Yes, you did.”

When you stood in front of him as tears fell down his cheeks, during the reading of your vows, once you kissed for the first time as husband and wife, taking pictures in between the ceremony and the reception, sitting by you at your reserved table, cutting the cake together, in the car on the way back to your apartment that night, and he told you again as you were going to change out of your dress into your lingerie.

Poe wasn’t ashamed of how many times he told you how gorgeous he found you, changing the subject by sweeping you into his arms and making you yelp as you were gently flung onto the bed.

You were quickly giggling when Poe snapped off the garters and kissed over each thigh as he dragged your stockings down your legs. “These are sexy, but they’re another thing I have to take off you and I’m gonna have to request no more stockings.”

Once they were off, he moved over you and began peppering kisses from your jaw to the tops of your breasts that were spilling out of your bra.

“What would you have preferred I—oh—preferred I wore?” You happily laid there to let Poe move you around, unclipping your bra and pulling it down your arms.

“No, no, I didn’t mean that. You picked something perfect.” His kisses continued down your body.

“I think you’d say that if I’d walked in here wearing only a lacy thong.”

Poe’s fingers were hooked into your underwear and he paused his pursuit of dragging them down your thighs to look at you with a dark gaze. “Promise me I might come home to you in nothing but a lacy thong.”

You hummed, gently scratching his head with the fancy fake nails you’d been convinced to get for your wedding. He leaned into your touch until your panties and garters reached your knees, and he had to move away to pull them down off your ankles.

He parted your thighs to look appreciatively between your legs. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

Now you shoved his head playfully and shook your head at his antics.

“I did! I’ve been thinking about this tight, warm home of mine all week.” He pulled away with exaggerated sadness in his eyes that made you giggle, unbuttoning his shirt fully.

“You’re stupid.” Your horny tone did not match your words as you watched him remove his shirt then undo his pants.

“Am I? Because I know you like I know the back of my hand, sweetheart. And I know what your eyes do when…” He eased his pants and underwear down to let his hardening cock spring free, and your eyes practically glazed over with arousal as he knew they would.

“Not my fault you have the prettiest dick in the whole world,” you whined, sitting up and beckoning him over.

He obliged you without a single complaint, sitting on the bed and tugging you by your hips to pull you into his lap. Your hands went to his hair as you kissed him deeply, pushing your tongue into his mouth much to his delight.

But he pulled away to start pressing slow, marking kisses down your neck, taking one of your nipples into his mouth when his lips reached your breasts and sucking on it.

Poe loved your tits.

And your ass...and your pussy.

Come to think of it now, there wasn’t a part of you that he didn’t practically adore; he loved you from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet.

You loved every bit of him the same.

...but his ass was really the cutest and probably one of your favorite parts of him — if not the favorite.

Your nails raked through the hair at the nape of his neck then your wrists fell loosely to his shoulders, something to hold onto as you arched your breasts closer to the attention that was going straight to your needy clit.

He moved to your other breast and very gently bit down on your nipple, smirking against you when your hips rolled against his in pleasure.

You sat there for a few moments with his mouth working on your breasts as you grinded on top of him, both of you working each other up and moaning with each jolt, then his lips made their way back up to yours.

Alternating between your lips and your jaw, he mumbled against the latter softly.

“Position?”

“Everyone says missionary is really boring, but I love it when you’re on top. Please?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to beg me for anything. Aside from occasional orgasms. Not on our wedding night, though.”

“I want to be close to you. If that makes sense.”

He laid you back against the pillows, moving over you to lay between your legs. “Perfect sense.”

Your arms went around his shoulders and your legs around his waist where you let your heels push against his ass to squeeze him closer, bucking your hips slightly.

“I’m guessing you’re ready,” he laughed, lining himself up and raising an eyebrow when the tip of his cock pressed to your soaked entrance.

“We haven’t touched each other in a week and you sucked on my tits while I humped you like crazy...I’m ready.” You pushed on his ass again, gasping softly as his tip pushed into you.

He kissed you as he slowly slid his cock into your entrance, stretching you like he always did and almost seating himself all the way inside you; he knew every bit of you, though, and stopped with most of himself in the warmth he loved.

His lips pressed sloppily to yours and then he let his head slide down to your shoulder, relishing in the sensation of you around him.

The time you’d both agreed not to have sex to make your wedding night a little more special might have made him appreciate this more.

But he was like this pretty much any time you took it slow; savoring every moment when he was inside you.

“I’m inside my wife,” he said all dreamily, lifting his head to look at you with the goofiest, most beautiful grin you were sure you’d seen.

“My husband is inside of me.” You thought it was silly at first, but something about thinking of how you were now husband and wife made your cunt squeeze around him.

Maybe it was the new bond, or the promise of having each other forever, or something else.

You had no idea.

None of it really mattered when your husband was moaning on top of you at the squeeze of your cunt and starting a gentle pace against you.

You loved having Poe’s cock inside of you and it was always almost enough to get you off, the rhythm of his thrusts as he pumped into you making you whine in pleasure.

His dick was one of the most incredible things you’d ever had the privilege of feeling every ridge of it drag out of you then push back in.

There were times he would angle himself perfectly to make you gush all over him, but tonight was intimate; one of his hands disappeared between you, rubbing circles on your already swollen clit.

Your hands buried themselves in his hair, tugging him down to kiss him hard, again and again, gasping between each one. “I love you, baby.”

He pressed his head to yours, eyes closed and brow furrowed as his hips sped up a little.

“I love you too, sweet girl...fuck...I knew I was gonna spend the rest of my life with you, but today was a nice reminder about how happy that makes me.”

“Oh, no, I am not crying during sex.”

“You mind if I do a little?”

“I mean, if you’re gonna cry…”

“Maybe we are virgins.”

“Fuck, Poe.”

You let out a loud laugh despite the tears falling from the corners of your eyes, kissing his nose and his lips.

His finger stroked the perfect part on your clit, tingling moved over your cunt like electricity and seemed to fizzle into your thighs, almost numbing you yet making your sensations even stronger at the same time.

The two of you could be giggling through sex, but then your pleasure would build too much and Poe would press his face into your neck in this position, and everything would be forgotten as you both sought to reach your orgasm.

Poe knew you were close when you would get all wiggly; your eyes would close, and your mouth would fall open slightly, and you would start bucking your hips in search of the friction that was getting you off.

You would flutter around him a little then you’d arch your back and—

Your pussy would clench around him tight as your muscles released their built up tension and you would either moan or cry out depending on how good it was, then you’d hold onto him tight while your cunt continued to clench around him.

If he was the least bit close, your orgasm would send him over the edge.

You knew he was about to come — even in the haze of your own orgasm — when he’d whimper into your neck and whisper a bunch of sweet nothings, his hips snapping into yours almost desperately without their previous rhythm.

Both of you had known each other long enough to know each other’s tells, but you didn’t care.

It only encouraged you when you knew the other was being pleasured.

And how could you care when now you were coming down from your high all satisfied? And how could Poe care when he was spilling his warm cum into you, thrusting sloppily a couple more times and then enjoying the privilege of laying on top of the woman he loved?

Knowing each other like this pretty much guaranteed good orgasms from a loving partner.

Poe moved to roll off you once he was able to think straight again, but you held onto him to keep him at least halfway on you, cuddling into his arms.

He huffed a laugh, pressing a kiss to your head. “That was fucking incredible.”

You smiled at him.

“It’s always incredible. I honestly can’t think of a time when even the most basic sex with you wasn’t the best thing ever.”

“Must’ve been good if you’re stroking my ego willingly.”

You nudged him playfully, watching him roll over to turn off the light and holding onto his arm when he turned back to hold you again.

His fingers traced along your side as you absentmindedly strokes over his forearm, both of you starting to doze.

“I love you.”

#poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #poe dameron fic

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heauxzenji · 4 years

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hi honeyyy can i have nsfw a-z alphabet for tsukishima please 👉👈? thank you 💞

I’ve had this in my inbox for like a month I am SORRY.

*deep inhale* TSUKKI FUCKERS RUN IN HERE AND GET Y’ALL JUICE

NSFW Alphabet: Tsukishima Kei

Gn!reader focused

Nsfw under the cut but you knew that...

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

I actually feel like he’s not too big on this part. He will 100% do what he needs to make you feel comfortable if he’s been particularly hard on you, but he will do the bare minimum, simply because he’s not the best at being very soft. It’s just not him. I feel like he actually would prefer to be alone and recollect himself rather than cuddle and do pillow talk. That doesn’t mean that he won’t if you need it, he most definitely will because he knows how important it is. Just don’t expect to be babied.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

FINGERS FINGERS FINGERS I WILL NOT STOP SCREAMING ABOUT THEM! They’re long and slender- they always fit perfectly inside or around your neck or in your mouth and just... yes. Yes to his fingers.

For him, it’s all about the eyes. He loves looking at your eyes and the various emotions they convey to him, be it adoration, panic, arousal, devotion… he loves looking directly into your pretty eyes as he takes you.

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

In your mouth. I can’t explain why I’m right but I’m right. I don’t think he’s a fan of mess per-se, but from time to time he will want to cum on your face/chest for a lil ✨humiliation✨. I’m also positive he drinks water so when he tells you to swallow it won’t be radioactive or thick like tar. Good job to him for that. (God the bar is on the mf floor)

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

You caught him jacking off one time and he actually makes the prettiest noises- he’s usually pretty quiet with you but by himself it’s actually symphonic how desperate he sounds. He doesn’t know you saw him, but now you ONLY think about how his name spilled out of your lips each time you touch yourself too.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

Has much more experience in theory than in practice. He’s VERY knowledgeable about topics primarily based on his own research. He can implement just about anything to your liking though, which is the real reason he’s a great fuck. He’s adaptable without sacrificing too much of his own pleasure.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

This can go one of two ways imo- If he’s feeling lazy, he’ll sit in a chair and have you ride him. If he’s actually putting in work, he’ll hold one of your legs up/back (never both bc it’d probably kill you) or he’ll flip you into doggy, but he’ll make sure you keep your arch as low as possible, so you’re almost parallel to the mattress.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Lmfao no.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

He’s very well groomed as well. His hair is darker than his blonde locks, but he prefers keeping it short and neat. Not completely shaven, but trimmed on a schedule tbh. Also never smells like ball sweat.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞

You would think a super sadist like Tsukishima doesn’t do the romantic gestures, but he does little things like making sure you’re stable and secure when he’s holding you up, or giving some VERY light praise when you take him well- you have to put attention or you’ll miss them.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

Tries his best to act like he doesn’t- but he does fairly often. Probably once a week tbh. He makes sure that he’s completely alone tho, because he’s very vulnerable and loud… also aggressive? It’s just a complete 180 from what he’s like with you and he doesn’t want you to know that. But he whines and whimpers the entire time, cumming in his fist and laying there convulsing.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Sadism is the overall mf flavor. But we knew that. Let’s delve a little deeper:

Impact Play, yes very much. Likes spanking as a punishment, but will also slap you in the face from time to time, especially if you’re not answering him or being loud enough to his liking.

Temperature Play, prefers using heat over cold, so he would definitely be into wax. Also turns on the heat in your room when you’re fucking like it’s hot yoga or some shit.

Degradation/Humiliation, has you make messes on purpose, just so he can tease you about it later. Calls you mean names the entire time- but they’re peppered with the tiniest praises, he will follow pretty with cockslut, and such. Will ALWAYS refer to you as his “messy little bitch” without fail. It’s his go-to. Also a fan of “fucktoy” and “pathetic cocksleeve”

Auralism, specifically likes when your moans are choked out sobs, or when you work your voice so raw that it gets scratchy and hoarse. Likes to hear you in general, and will always ask you for a response. Also talks you through your orgasms with little things like “that’s it” and “keep cumming”

Dacryphilia, oh god he loves to see you cry. That’s the one thing that can make him cum almost immediately.

He also HATES a bratty sub. Needs someone who is very obedient. Likes to be called Sir.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Literally ONLY in private. He’s all about control and knows that he can assert that control in every way possible in the bedroom. And even though he gets off on humiliation, it’s only when he’s the one doing it- proving he owns you without the threat of lingering eyes.

Would be the type to totally soundproof a room in your house tho, if you’re picking up why I’m putting down. Has gotten several “home improvement” project ideas from kinktok.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

His goal is to break you. No matter how many times he’s done it before, he always wants to see that perfectly fucked out glassy sheen coat your eyes as they’re filled to the brim with tears- and complete devotuon and total submission to him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝕺!

He is never going to submit to you. It’s just not going to happen. Give it up, deelishis.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Is not the biggest fan of going down on you, prefers using his fingers/other toys. But he LOVES facefucking you. Especially if he can make you cry with how much his cock is bruising your throat.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s mostly even. Mostly. He definitely will edge as a punishment, snapping his hips into you violently, only to stop completely just when your eyes start to roll back. He definitely likes to maintain control of his own orgasm though so he likes to keep a nice even pace if you’re not being a brat.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

Wont outright fuck you in public but would use remote controlled toys on you. He prefers taking his time with you, building you up super slowly so that he can knock you the fuck down in an instant.

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

If you think you can try him, no you can’t. He will shut it down IMMEDIATELY. Again, he’s not one for super public scenes, so he’s good at keeping a poker face whenever you decide to get bold… but you have to be prepared because your punishment is either going to be super harsh or nothing at all- and I honestly can’t tell you which is worse when it comes to him.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

It depends on how he’s feeling. If you’ve been good he’ll get right to the point but if you’ve been disobeying him then be prepared to have your sessions drawn out. He can go on edging you for hours and not feel a single thing. He can still last a relatively long time if he’s actually fucking you as well, a good 45-an hour before he even thinks about cumming. And that’s just thinking about it. He can still go a bit longer after the fact. He won’t cum until you’ve cum at least 2-3 times if he’s being nice.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He has a few toys that he likes to use as punishment, primarily small vibrators that he can put inside of you to have you coming undone before he even touches you. When he finally does, you're a wet, whining mess and all he has to say is that you’re pathetic for not being able to even wait for him to touch you.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

Hates being teased. Don’t even try or think about trying it. Doesn’t necessarily tease you either, at least not TOO much. Will edge you to hell and back though.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of hearing how pretty he truly sounds, so a lot of his moans come out as long sighs and deep grunts that he catches in the back of his throat. And that’s only when he’s close.

He does talk a lot though, and is vocal in that sense- you’ll hear a lot of commands from him. You have to ask him for permission to cum, so there’s a lot of call and response when it comes to your sessions.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

He has this fantasy where he’s essentially his partner’s sex toy master and you’re the toy, He would use remote-control vibrators to make you come throughout the day. You don’t get a say in when you come, it’s just whenever he wants. In front of your boss, on the train, when you're trying to go shopping, whenever. It’s equal parts humiliating and sexy for you both, because you can’t stop orgasming. You’re completely at his mercy.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s a good size, a solid 6.5-7 with a decent girth. More of a shower than a grower and actually has a fairly pretty dick. Fair but even in color, suuuuper pretty and pink at the head.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Even though he’s about exerting complete control, and also the type to never let on that he’s needy, he is. His sex drive is slightly higher than yours... But you’d never know. He’s just that good at 1) covering it up, and 2) flipping the script to always make you seem like cockhungry one... asshole

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

No sleeping. Tbh I feel like he’s one of those people who actually gets a burst of energy after. But he’s not sleeping at all. He’s just gonna go back to his headphones or some quiet activities until you wake up.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @super-noya @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @makemealive @ukaic @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

#daisy’s red light district 🚨#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu headcanon #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu Tsukki #tsukki x reader #tsukki smut #haikyuu x gn!reader #hq x gn!reader #hq headcanon #hq headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu hc

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