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todoshotoroki · 3 years

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𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩'𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨

Warnings: smut, light spanking, heavy degradation, sub f bodied reader x Bakugou.〤 Minors DNI

Word count: 1.7k

Katsuki didn't like sharing. He made it very clear, the things that were his were not to be touched. Now, this didn't mean he wasn't good at hiding things. Nobody could have known that you and the great Bakugou Katsuki had been fucking behind everyone's back. So while he couldn't exactly show you off, he had other ways to make sure you'd always come back to him.

So you should have known better then to start hanging around that fucking nerd.

You should have known he would have found out, how Izuku Midoryia would walk into the common room absolutely swooning about the wonderful chat you two had together in the elevator just moments before. You had been on your way to class, and happened to pass each other on the way out.

It was harmless, really. Izuku was a good friend to you.

Bakugou had to teach you a lesson. That was why he waited outside for your class to finish, before wordlessly grabbing your hand and pulling you down the hallway that was packed with students. You tried multiple times to avoid eye contact with anyone else, Katsuki was literally holding your hand for the first time in public. Plus, it only added to the suspicion when he yanked open the nearest janitor closet, pulling you inside and slamming it shut. He clicked the lock into place.

“So are you going to explain, Bakugou? You do realize everyone just saw that right?” Your voice was irritated, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Clearly, you weren't happy. That didn't matter to him though, he wasn't here to make you happy right now. “Don't talk” He said, taking a step forward to grab your backpack, pushing it past your shoulders and onto the floor. “Excuse me? What do you think-”

His face instantly turned into a scowl, and his hand came up to grip tightly onto your jaw, the pads of his fingers and the tips of his nails digging into your cheeks. “Shut your mouth before I fucking shut it for you” He growled, leaning close to your face to make sure you could hear him clear enough. “You think your so fucking hot, hiding away in an elevator with that fucking idiot. You wanted to make me jealous? That why? Fucking brat” The closet was dark, but his piercing red eyes burned into yours as he pushed you all the way to the back of the wall.

“W-What are you talking about? I wasn't flirting with Izuku-” Your protest was interrupted by a harsh slap to the cheek, your face lurching to the side from the impact. “Say his name one more fucking time, I dare you little girl”

This was new. Katuski had always been dominant, it was his personality. Though, you had never seen him practically seething with jealousy. Your thighs were already getting sticky. “B-but I really wasn't” You weakly defended yourself as Katsuki’s free hand traveled down to your skirt, shoving it down past your hips. “B-b-but i-i-” He mocked your voice harshly, his fingers reaching behind you to roughly grab at your ass, before landing another harsh smack to your lower cheek.

“Your so fucking dumb, you don't even realize the effect you have on people. You need glasses? Huh four eyes? Couldn't see how he was gushing over your little talk today?” His grip on your jaw slowly slid down your neck and across your throat, pinching the sides between his thumb and index finger. Enough to hurt, but air still flowed to your lungs. “Maybe I just have to show you baby. You were a virgin when i first fucked you, my little virgin, right?”

“Y-yeah, Katsuki, please..” Your face burned in shame, but you couldn't deny the desperation he made you feel. It was so hot to see him all bothered like this, how possessive he could be. You weren't even publicly dating yet.

“Guess ill just have to show you that I'm the first and last cock you'll ever fucking have” His hand came down to unbuckle his belt, yanking it off his hips and letting his jeans fall to the floor. “The only fucking one that can make you cum baby” He let go of his grip on your neck, instead placing both hands on your hips and turning you around to press your breasts up against the cold wall. It wasn't cold for long though, because Katsuki’s burning hot hand slithered between your shirt and the wall to grope at your breasts, pushing your bra up your chest.

His knee parted your thighs, his foot kicking each of your ankles to spread them. “Open your fucking legs” He grunted in your ear, his free hand gripping tighter on your hip. You weren't sure when he took his briefs off, but you could feel the throbbing head of his cock parting your folds to rub up against your clit. “Katsukiii- Just fuck me already” You begged in a small whine, tilting your head back to lean up on his shoulder.

Bakugou leaned down to press a loud, sloppy, wet kiss to your lips as he began to gently fuck his cock between your thighs. “You want me to fuck you baby girl? You sure you deserve this cock? You've been naughty, so fucking naughty” He growled in your ear as he began to teasingly fuck himself between your thighs, smearing his precum all over your soft skin, painting them white in his milky substance.

“Yes, yes please, I want it Suki, I want you nooow” Your whine was switched into a sing-songy tone. You reached between your legs, your fingers dancing on the tip of Bakugou's cock as it rubbed at your clit each time he fucked himself between your thighs. His hard cock throbbed between your legs for attention, and his breathing shuttered at your touch.

“Naughty girl” He muttered, pulling his cock back just enough to push it as far as he could go into your pussy.

“Fuck, Fuck, your so tight baby” He groaned, his arms circling tightly around your waist as he felt the weight of your body slack against his at the sudden intrusion of his cock. “K-Katsu- you- you went all the way in-inside” Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, Katsuki leaned forward, his tongue rolling across your salty cheek to lap up your fallen tears. “Yeah baby, it's because you've been such a bad girl, gotta show you, gotta.. Fuck, gotta teach you to be good”

He pulled almost all the way out, just barely emptying you before slamming his cock back into your guts. He instantly hit the right angle, his cock filling you so perfectly and hitting you in all the right spaces. One of the lewdest moans you've ever heard fell past his lips and slipped right into your ear, and you were so thankful his mouth was right next to your ear.

“Your such a fucking slut, getting my cock wet like this”

“Katsu- Katsuki wait-”

No, only good girls were able to make demands, and you had infuriated Bakugou Katsuki to the point where even now he was holding back from fucking you too harsh, constantly aware if he was setting his quirk off or not. He almost wanted to say fuck it.

Too fast? Too harsh? Too deep?

“Too fucking bad, your my little bitch right now” He growled, his movements speeding up and causing a new course of pleasure to shoot through both of your bodies. He reached up with his left hand, gripping your jaw and tilting your head to press a sloppy kiss onto your lips, roughly digging his teeth into your bottom lip as the sounds of smacking skin echoed in the room. “You- you’re so mean Kacchan” Maybe he was, but the way your pussy clenched and desperately sucked at his cock told him how much you were enjoying yourself.

“No, no I think you're the mean one. Letting dumbass Deku think he has a chance with you- no fucking way” His sentence ended in a growl as the hand on your jaw returned to its place around your throat. “Not that he’d ever want you if he knew the truth- if he knew how much you loved fuckin’ creamin’ all over my cock, hah, fuck” His movements sped up, your legs felt tingly and the knot of ecstasy begin to pile in your stomach.

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry Katsuki, please make me cum, please” Your words were weak, pathetic little whines tumbling helplessly past your lips. “M so sorry, I won't do it again, just please” God you sounded so hot. Your voice sounded so hot. The wet sounds the mixture of his dick in your pussy made together were so fucking hot.

“Dirty little girl, aren't you ashamed to be cumin all over me? All over my cock?” Katsuki couldn't deny his own release approaching, but he held off for that beautiful moment when you finished together. “No, betcha get off on it, you sick, twisted slut. My cheap little whore”

He knew when your head leaned back into his shoulder and your hand reached behind to grab the base of his hair, that you were cumming. As if the tightening around his cock wasn't already enough intel. On top of that, you knew what pulling his hair did to him, you knew, you dirty little succubus-

“Fuck baby, that's it, cum all over me, cum all over my cock sexy” His hips sputtered as you both came, his cock vibrating inside your pulsating walls as he shot out long spurts of semen inside of you. “So good ‘Suki, so good inside of me”

Both of you spent a few moments panting, catching your breaths. Bakugou laid his head on your shoulder, placing kisses along your collarbone. With a breathy chuckle, he was reminded of the hectic hallway just outside. Surely there would be rumors now, rumors that would reach Izuku Midoryia and crush every single one of his hopes and dreams.

Slowly, he lifted his head up to smile at you. “Hey, dumbass” He said with a cocky grin.

“What would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?”

𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒: "𝙇𝙪𝙨𝙩, 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞, 𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙩”

𝑂𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ♡

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sugako · 3 years

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practicum

supervisor!nanami x intern!reader sum: your internship is cruel and boring, but your primary supervisor and his lingering touches are enough to make you stay for the decadence collab by @sugawara-sweetheart cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, smut, power dynamic (boss/intern), slight age gap implied, semi-public sex/office sex, Dom/sub themes, fingering, slight dumbification, cervix kisses, size kink, creampie, reader is in their 20s, inexperienced reader (sorta/idk its up to interp), reader wears a skirt/has a vagina but no gendered language used wc: 2.3k

You knew the moment you stepped into the stiff, grey office building that this wasn’t what you wanted to do, but you had to complete an internship and this had been the easiest place to get into. At first, you hadn’t been sure if it was worth the experience, or the long hours, or the complicated work that really should have been given to someone with twice the experience as you and probably another degree or two.

Truthfully, there wasn’t much keeping you there. You had the opportunity to find a new place within the first week, but you hadn’t. The little steel string that kept you clinging onto this awful, stuffy job was him. Nanami Kento.

Or, as you usually addressed him, Mr. Nanami. He was your primary supervisor after all. The moment you decided to stay was the moment you realized your little crush had gotten out of hand, not that it stopped you. It was impossible with all the sharp angles of his pretty face, the whisper of his baritone voice when he kindly corrected any mistakes in your work and the lingering touches of his fingers across your shoulders as he leaned in to assist you.

Despite his demeanor, you discovered he wasn’t too much older than yourself, at least within ten years of your own age, that had been the tipping point. Your crush quickly got out of hand. Most nights you spent thrashing around in bed imagining your own hands to be his as they left hot trails down your body, but it was never good enough.

For a while, you resigned yourself to lonely nights and soft brushes of skin, but then one day after he caught you in the middle of twisting your ankle up the steps to the office, it was as though a switch flipped.

Nanami had always found you attractive and he appreciated your work ethic, even if he was well aware this wasn’t a place where you would thrive. He knew he spent a little too long explaining certain things to you, letting his body graze yours whenever given the chance, but he felt you enjoyed it. The way your shoulders tensed and you let out a little shuddery gasp that you thought was silent, when your pretty thighs clenched together under whatever cute skirt or pants you had on that day, the light in your eyes that brightened whenever you looked into his eyes - it all made his heart race even if he kept a straight face.

Seeing you so helpless, if even for a short moment, and the delicious whimper you yelped out had broken his resolve. Sure, he was your boss, but not really since you didn’t permanently work here, he reasoned.

“Come to my office so I can check that everything is okay.” He said, taking your elbow into his hand. “It can be easy to fracture the bones in your ankle and foot, and those injuries shouldn't be taken lightly.”

“Uh, okay.” You stuttered back, heat rushing up to the tips of your ears at the subtle contact. It was early, very early, and there were only a handful of people sleepily milling around. Not enough to be a problem, he thought, silently locking the door behind the both of you.

A bit awkwardly, you situated yourself in the middle of the room, bending your knee to slightly lift your foot off the ground. The ache wasn’t terrible, it barely stung, but who were you to argue with a superior?

“Sit on my desk.” He instructed, shucking his suit jacket off and draping it over the back of the plush chair adjacent to the desk.

Nodding quickly, you scampered into place, perching on the edge with your feet dangling above the floor. The straight line of his mouth just barely quirked up as he sat before you. Your mind spun, unable to help but notice how his knees spread wide apart, and the tightness of his pants around his thighs and hips.

Some little part of his brain was telling him to stop, but his body kept moving, fingers rubbing up against your bare ankle. He had to hold back a low groan when he felt you shiver under his touch and your thighs twitch open just the slightest. Glancing up at you only confirmed what he already knew. The way your eyes drooped down, lips parted as you breathed in those cute, shallow breaths, holding yourself up so nicely for him.

Your breath hitched when he looked at you, his hands sliding at a painfully slow rate up from your ankle. They ghosted over your calves, so steady but so cautious, and all the while his eyes stayed anchored to yours.

“How does it look?” You finally breathed when he reached the backside of your knees. Clenching around nothing, but feeling so on the edge of what you longed for, you let your legs fall open just a bit more, knowing he could see your damp panties if he even flickered his eyes down.

When it took him a moment to respond, you worried you had crossed a line, but after a handful of long seconds, the gears in his head stopped turning when his eyes were cast downward. He didn’t make it to your ankle, vision stopping short when he registered how far your cute skirt had been pushed up and the way he could see the perfect outline of your dripping cunt imprinted against the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Very good, but…” Nanami trailed off, kneading your thighs higher and higher.

“But what?” You asked, voice coming out all breathy and needy. The way his touch sent sparks of electricity cascading down your spine was a sin. Hungry with need, the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitched, the cool air of the office breezing against you.

With curious eyes, you watched as he swallowed hard, his gaze flashing back up to you. “You have a different problem now.” Letting out a small sigh, he stands, caging you in with his arms and looming just centimeters away from your face. “I see how you look at me. How you dote on me, ask me for help even when you don’t need it, how your legs shake when I sit a little too close,” his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hip as though to make his point, “and now you’re making a mess on my desk and spreading your legs to show me. Do you really need your boss’ cock that badly?” The way he coos the last question fills your body with heat, but you struggle to look anywhere except directly at him.

“Y-yes, please, want you.” When you stutter out your answer, he squeezes his hips between your legs, the growing bulge in his pants pressing against your thigh.

“You’re very cute, but you act as if you have never been touched properly.” He whispers, letting his head fall against your shoulder, hands pushing your skirt up until it’s bunched up around your hips, completely exposing you.

“They… uh, sorta, but not like,” you shudder out a gasp when his fingers tap against the soaked fabric, grinding your hips into his touch, “...not as good as you.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He moans, ignoring his own words as he pulls aside the flimsy fabric and spreads your slick around, circling your clit.

“But I-!” Your words get choked off when he eases a long finger into you, curling it against your spongey walls. “Want you to fuck me, please!” You whine, hips bucking into his hand while you chased release.

He presses a chaste kiss against the side of your neck before he gently pushes you down so your back is flush against the desk and he pulls your hips to the edge, holding your knees wide enough for him to fit. Barely lifting your head up, you watch him as he stands before you. With quick-moving hands, he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, pulling his cock out and palming it lightly before he leans over you again.

Faintly, you’re aware that you’re in his office, in the office building and if anyone were to walk in there would be a disaster for your work and academic life, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Especially not when Nanami’s heavy cock is resting against your cunt and he’s kissing down the column of your neck.

“Since you’ve never felt a real man, tell me if it’s too much,” he says hoarsely, pulling aside the fabric of your panties again before he lines himself up.

Blankly, you nod at his words, struggling to relax your body as the fat tip pushes past your tight entrance. It’s enough to make you flutter around him, an action he desperately tries to ignore. Your little cunt is gushing, sucking him in and clamping around him so tight he’s worried he might break you. The inside of your lip aches from biting them so harshly, waiting for him to slowly bottom out.

“Happy? You’ve wanted this for so long.” He breathes, looking down at where the two of you are connected and the pretty shine of your wetness under the lamps and early morning sunshine that filters through the window.

“Y-yes.” You answer unsteadily, wrapping your knees around his lower back, needing to feel him more, deeper, harder, anything.

“Usually such a smart person and now all you can say is yes and nod?” He pulls back, nearly slipping out with the way you’re creaming around him, and slams back into you.

“Uh-huh!” Comes your squeaked response, unable to answer properly. Slowly realizing what you said, you attempt to backtrack with a weak, “I mean-” before the words gurgle off into nothing when you feel him hit you deeper than anyone ever has.

The sound of skin slapping and the resounding squelches that fill the space cloud your thoughts up, and all you feel is him. Every movement he made was fast but evenly paced and purposeful and you wondered how he could fit so well against you without ever having known you intimately before. His hands burning against your skin, brushing against your stomach as they hold your hips in place, how he perfectly fills you out, and in the next moment how your chest fills with warmth when his thumb brushes against your aching clit.

“You want to cum?” His voice is far strained than it was when he began, his low breathy moans getting louder by the second.

“Please!” You cry, arms shaking as you held yourself back from grabbing onto him.

All he did was give you a sharp nod, but his fingers were suddenly focused, stroking you so exactly you found yourself at the brink of orgasm in short minutes encouraged on by the way he continued to steadily fuck into you.

“Good,” he whispered as he felt you flutter around him, sucking him in impossibly deeper. Those words were the final straw for you. Before you realized what was happening, you could hear yourself faintly crying out like a far-away echo, body jerking and trembling beneath him as he worked you through it, only taking his hand away when he knew you were spent.

“Such a perfect cunt.” You barely heard him, dazed in your own little world, only feeling now, mumbling out something about how you wanted him to cum inside of you.

He slowed, barely, but his steadiness remained, the only indication that he was close was his cock twitching against your still fluttering walls. Letting out a long, hissed groan he finally let himself go, shuddering against you as he came, filling you up even more from the inside. His body pressed into yours as he simply held you, listening closely to your whimpers and gasps.

As you slipped out of your own brain, coming back to reality, you moaned at the weight of him against you, wrapping your arms to rest around his shoulders. Your legs shook around him, barely staying looped around the back of his thighs now.

Gradually, he propped himself up, almost painfully pulling out of you. Although his cock was barely half hard now, the stretch pulled at you just as much as it did at the beginning. He quickly pulls out the neatly placed pocket square from the jacket draped behind him and cleans himself off while you lay there, still winded and trying to process what happened.

Waiting for you to say something or do anything, he drinks up the sight of your glistening cunt, his cum pooling between your legs as it slowly drips out. The small groan you let out as you sit up with unsteady motions gets his attention, prompting him to lean back over you and clean around your thighs, purposefully ignoring the mess between your legs. You watch his actions, dread creeping in as to what happens next, but all he does is adjust your panties back into place and help straighten out your skirt when you wobble off the desk.

Silently, he holds your hands as you regain your footing.

“Um, thank y-”

“Your internship ends next week, correct?” He cuts you off, taking his hands out of yours and rounding the desk to sit at his chair.

“Yes, it does.” It’s obvious he knows the answer, but you reply anyway. You swallow, clasping your hands together to keep them from shaking.

“Alright,” he says, scribbling something on the back of a business card, “feel free to call me after your last day.”

A little surprised, you take the card from him and hold it tight, a weight being lifted from your chest. With a little nod, you go to leave.

“Oh, and y/n?”

“Yes, sir?” You chirp. He takes a deep breath, wondering how it would sound if you called him that next time.

“This didn’t happen.”

#sweetheart decadence #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader

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joonsdragoneyes · 3 years

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We’re live [Gamer!Jungkook x Reader][M]

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Warnings: Smut, profanity, semi-public sex, protected sex (reader is on birth control), mentions of reader needing reading glasses, oral m receiving, drooling, handjobs, orgasms male and female, f and m orgasm denial/edging, big dicks, body worship (kinda), tattoos/piercing's, mentions of sex in other locations, minor hair pulling, mentions of disapproving families/hiding things from parents, mentions/descriptions of reader having a large chest, reader is kind of bratty, usage of the word cock, voice kink if you squint

Genre: Smut, some angst, streamer/youtuber au, college au if you turn on a blacklight

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: You and Jungkook have been living together for a little over a year now, a big decision after your previous several years of dating. He, of course, brought his job with him- a full gaming set up, which you happily let him set up in a spare room. Your boyfriend was a pro-gamer. This job usually kept him busy, his focus on his screen rather than you for a majority of the day. You normally didn’t mind this at all, since you were usually out during that time anyway. Today, however, was different. You were home, attempting to study as he worked in order to give him the space he needed. Except, you were missing him in a way you hadn’t in a while, and the only way to get rid of this frustration would be to get him away from his work.

{A/N: This work is completely unedited, so apologies for any typos.}

----

You could hear him yelling through the door.

The laptop sitting in front of you was beginning to dim from lack of use, the loud shouts from the room a bit down the hall further ruining your already destroyed concentration. Your glasses slid down your face as you lifted, the feeling causing you to pull them off. Flopping tiredly against the back of the chair, you took one final look at the multiple windows you had open on the screen as the screen finally went black, leaving you with nothing but your reflection on the screen. Your hair was messily tied back, strands and chunks falling around everywhere from where they escaped from your hair tie. You looked away from the sight of your own face, burying your face in your hands as your elbows came to rest on the shiny, hardwood table; you slamming the device shut as your hand lowered, your fingers pulling the skin down along with it. You sighed in frustration, letting your head flop back against the chair as you slid down, your butt now hanging off of the seat.

His voice practically bounced off the walls, each full-concentration shout of sudden frustration ringing through the house. Each time caught your attention, snatching you quickly from your exhausted daze. He seemed to be having fun in-between moments of what you assumed was either interacting with the chat or moments where it sounded like he lost- or rather, almost lost. You could already hear him coming out in a few hours, bragging about he remained undefeated in a game you couldn't remember the name of, a large, bright grin present on his face, his own pulled back hair messily sprawled in every possible direction.

You sometimes watched his streams and videos while you worked, at least you used to. It always ruined your concentration when you did, as it was now, but they were admittedly entertaining. He never knew you did, you showed little interest in his job, and you'd rather keep it that way.

Sitting up, you lifted your hands to adjust the straps dangling uncomfortably down your shoulders, adjusting the rest of your top in the process, pulling it up from where it slid down, at this point revealing almost everything. It appeared to have shrunk given how tight it was and how easily it slid down, but it wasn't like it would be anything your boyfriend hadn't seen before in the instance you failed to notice and flashed him. The tank top you had on usually did well with covering everything, but knowing that lately, for some reason, it wasn't, made you frown. It was comfortable and nice to wear around the house; you just felt irritated adjusting it constantly.

You stood up, moving toward the various loud sounds coming from the room. The door clicked as you turned the knob, pushing the large wooden object open, the many lights strung on the walls greeting you as you stepped inside the large room. The whiteboard he had hanging on the wall was full of writing and multiple expressive doodles- a few piles on the floor from a few other random activities. It was dark aside from the many lights hanging from the walls and ceiling, your boyfriend well illuminated by the glow from the multiple monitors sprawled in front of him.

Turning to face him fully, you closed the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as you paused. He hadn't noticed you yet. You felt odd about walking in like this. You had never interrupted him while he was working unless he needed something, in which case he usually just came to get you. You honestly didn't even know if any of his fanbase knew he was in a relationship at all-; you both usually just kept to yourselves. Aside from him eventually coming upstairs to meet you in bed to sleep, coming out to eat, or the occasional 'date'- which was just running errands together or him coming with you to watch a movie you were pretty much already leaving for- you both didn't really spend a lot of time together. At least you hadn't recently.

The sight of his wide eyes and pouty expression made your heart melt, and you couldn't help but smile. He was sitting in his much-bigger-than-him gaming chair, his legs crossed with his knees near his chest as he leaned forward, his expression serious despite the generally cute nature of everything else about him. His way too big shirt swallowed him easily, and it was only at this moment that you realized he had borrowed one of your hair-ties. The pale purple band was more than familiar, and there it was, tightly holding his long black hair neatly in place.

"Jungkook-" You started as you moved close, his head instantly lifting in order to meet you, his serious expression quickly growing soft. He seemed a little confused seeing you in here but still happy about it nonetheless.

You suddenly panicked slightly, watching the screen nervously in the hope you didn't appear in the camera too much, mostly attempting to keep your face out of frame. Gently, you leaned against the back of the chair, his teeth quickly appearing in a wide, excited grin. "Do you need anything?" He asked, his bright, wide eyes meeting yours. You could feel the excitement radiating from him, his lips and cheeks pink in the light from the lamp as he spoke. "Just missed you." You admitted, crossing your arms against the back of the chair as you leaned slightly forward.

The chat on one of the monitors suddenly sped up, you noticing it from the corner of your eyes. A loud mix of emotes and words in all caps filled the screen, zooming by before you could read any of them. You watched Jungkook slide his headphones off, letting them rest on his neck as his legs uncrossed, his socked feet flopping against the carpet. "Here, you can sit with me and watch." He chirped, quickly pausing whatever game he was playing and scooting over to make as much room as he could. You shook your head.

"No, I..." You trailed off, pouting a bit as you lift your arms, moving your hands around your face in a way you hoped emphasized your unwillingness to be on camera. You knew they could see your body just fine, but you were on your computer all day and hadn't slept well, so showing your face was definitely out of the equation. Jungkook simply let his head fall slightly to the side in confusion, letting out a small "But you look fine.".

You pouted, watching as he quickly stood up, the chair rocking slightly as he slid out of it. "Here, I know just the thing." He quickly shuffled near the back of the room and over to the closet doors, pulling them open. You watched quietly as he began to shuffle through a box, the already present pout on your face growing stronger. You recognized that box. That box was from your senior prom. You already knew what he was looking for.

He quickly pulled out a black mask, the very one you had worn years ago. Why he had kept it this long, you didn't know, but you still found yourself sighing as you realized it would still work. You didn't really want to remember that masquerade themed prom, especially considering neither you nor Jungkook had fun during a majority of it. It had its moments, but you had hoped you wouldn't have to go near that specific costume again.

"Sorry, it's all I've got." He whispered, gently placing it in your not-very-eagerly awaiting hands. Taking a deep breath, you slid the mask onto your face as Jungkook scoot past, flopping once again into the large chair, his voice loudly sounding as he began to interact with the apparently very excited chat.

Once again adjusting your top, you moved over to where your boyfriend was sitting, plopping down next to him as one of his muscular arms wrapped around your waist as you settled against him, your thighs touching. You shuffled, wrapping your arm around his waist as well, your legs bouncing from where they hung off the seat as Jungkook pulled the chair forward. You felt the tension in your crossed legs relax as you realized you'd only be seen from slightly above your waist.

His hand slid around you, grabbing onto the controller resting on his thighs. Your arms flopped to the side, resting against your boyfriend's thighs in an attempt to keep them out of the way. Your fingers gripped tightly onto his sweatpants, your head coming to rest gently on his shoulder. Jungkook grinned, his teeth shining through his lips the more comfortable you became.

You could feel his voice vibrating against you as he spoke, the sound making you feel warm inside, a soft tingle running from your head to your thighs. "What're you playing?" You questioned, leaning against his strong shoulder, enjoying his warmth. His face slowly contorted slightly in thought, a pout forming on his lips as he noticeably racked his brain for the answer. "Astrotech." He finally responded, his expression moving quickly back to the way it was, his cheeks noticeably a bit pink.

Various loud booms and screeches flooded from the headphones around his neck, which he had turned up for you to hear. You didn't know what was going on it, but the sight of him expertly doing whatever objectives or maneuvering the obstacles in the game was somewhat fascinating to you.

He suddenly squirmed under you as you adjusted yourself, the sudden movement surprising until you realized your hand had just accidentally rubbed along his thigh in the process. Your lips pressed together in thought, realizing just how sensitive he seemed to be. Deciding to see if that was truly why, you cautiously ran your hand along his thighs, feeling him once again squirm under you. The barely audible groan of protest as you slightly ruined his concentration made something in your brain just click.

You knew why you were so distracted earlier.

Slowly, your hand moved along his leg before sliding inwards towards the warmth where they met. Before he could squirm again, you gave a soft squeeze to his strong thighs, enjoying the slightly surprised noise that escaped. He seemed annoyed that you were attempting to distract him, but his lack of any indication for you to stop or any sort of 'no' from him gave you the willingness to continue.

Your hands moved further up, sliding along the space between his legs and up towards his stomach. He had stopped moving aside from the slight tremble of his thighs as you made your way along. His legs slightly parted, allowing you to continue on your way, the outline of the package you were searching for soon starting to appear in his sweat pants. You licked your lips gently, tracing the outline with your fingers, enjoying the sighs you heard from his weak attempts to keep quiet.

"Alright, well, I guess I'll see you when you're done." You suddenly spoke. "I just came to visit because I missed you, but you seem pretty busy with work." You added, pulling your hand away as you stood, sliding out of the chair as you moved quickly towards the door. Thoughts ran through your brain as your hand grabbed the doorknob, opening it before gently shutting it immediately after. You turned to look at your boyfriend still sat behind you, biting your bottom lip in thought.

Slowly and quietly, you dropped down to your knees, crawling on the ground over to the desk as you swiftly slid under it. Leaning forward, you grabbed the tops of his pants, slowly pulling them down as you felt your eyes grow wide at the sight. You had seen it before, but it was still a pleasant surprise each time.

Your hands moved along his legs, swiftly grabbing the still mostly soft length, pumping them quickly as Jungkook once again squirmed under you, his legs spreading. You could feel him continuously growing under you as you moved, the sight and feeling causing your thighs to tingle.

Licking your lips, you moved forward, licking the tip of his eagerly awaiting cock, listening as he tried to stifle a pleased hum. Before he could fully react, you took the full length in your mouth before sliding down, bobbing your head with vigor, enjoying the soft noises that escaped as a result of your movements. Your hands continued to slide quickly, making up for what you couldn't reach.

Your boyfriend sighed above you, doing his very best to act as normal as he possibly could. The soft clicking and tapping from his controller continued, you only drooling as your head continued to lower, taking in as much of the steadily hardening length as you possibly could. Pawing at him for the bit you had the chance to seemed to work, not quite in the way you had hoped, but you were fixing that just fine. A soft slurp sounded as you suddenly lifted your head, the noise causing you to pause as you hoped no one had heard the sinful action going on under the desk. The conversation between him and the on-going chat seemed to be normal despite his occasional deep sighs. His fingers ran through your hair, giving a slight tug as you continued, closing your eyes as you attempted to savor the moment- still being careful to make as little noise as possible.

A sharp tug to your thick hair pulled you upwards, your breasts practically in his lap as your arms lifted, grabbing onto his thick black hoodie in an attempt to keep yourself steady. You hummed a bit in surprise, the action causing his strong hands to increase their grip on you as your head only continued to bob. He was gasping now. Loud pings and sound effects rang from the screen from what you assumed was possibly the hundredth donation of the night. You increased your speed, enjoying the strong but more gentle tug that followed with each movement of your salivating mouth.

You were only wondering how he was managing to hide this so well.

Your gaze slowly moved upwards, checking his expression. His face was flushed, his teeth on display as he bit his lower lip in a last attempt to keep quiet. His expression was otherwise unchanged aside from his noticeably dilated pupils, his face still stern with concentration.

With a loud pop, you finally pulled away, quickly using your knuckles to wipe away the strand of saliva that followed. Swiftly pulling his pants back up, you shuffled from under the desk and over to the door. That would be enough for now. After all, you didn't actually want to get caught.

You could feel him watching you as you stood up and quietly opened the door. How upset he was that you didn't finish could be felt from where you stood, but you knew he'd get you back later. He always did. It didn't matter if you just ate his food or if you pulled a small prank, he always got you back, and this time you could say you looked forward to it.

---

The door flew open with a loud bang, you jumping with surprise at the sound, nearly dropping your phone in the process. Your head lifted to meet the sight of your boyfriend standing in the doorway, his hair messy as he loomed over you. "What was that about?" He questioned, his eyes darting to take in your form.

"What was what about?"

"You know what."

You felt your cheeks warm but decided to continue pretending you didn't have a clue what he meant. "No, Jungkook, I don't know what."

His lips pressed together, his eyes narrowing. He stepped forward, closing the door behind him, a soft click sounding as he slowly locked it. You watched quietly, biting your lip as you knew what would happen next. He wasn't usually this quiet.

"Thankfully, I was able to continue normally without much issue." He plopped on the bed next to you, the weight of his larger form causing the mattress to sink under him. The force was almost enough to cause you to slide along with it.

"But you must think I'm a fool if you think you'll get away with sneaking under the desk like that."

By then, he had leaned close, his voice low as he spoke. His tattoos could be seen poking from under the dropped neck of his shirt, your eyes slipping down the closer he leaned. You flopped forward, your gaze meeting his as your hands came to rest on top of his own. "And what are you gonna do about it?" You teased. This wouldn't at all be your first time with each other, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"You're not even ready. I could hear you taking care of it yourself before you came up; you're not as quiet as you think."

His hand lifted quietly, curling under your chin as he held your head still. "Alright, smartie, what're you gonna do about that?"

"You're usually the horndog in this situation. What am I gonna do about it?"

You were suddenly shoved against the bed below, the thick blanket warm under your body. He placed a soft kiss on your lips, his hair draping around his face as he leaned over you. "You'll have to wait to find out, huh?"

"Damn, you must really be upset." You teased without even a second of hesitation. "Man, I really wonder what you'll do. Oh, how long must I wait? Forever? Years; Centuries of waiting just to punished in the end! Just end me, as waiting is its own punishment." You whined dramatically under him, your arms lifting as your hand sprawled against your forehead, your eyes closing as your head flopped back in exasperation against the mattress below.

Jungkook laughed. "No, you won't have to wait very long. You know I wouldn't do that to you." He grinned, his teeth bright and shiny behind his lips. "Remember when we were younger, and I still lived with my parents, and you came over to study?" He asked, his noticeably strong hands trailing over your body, their attention quickly focused on your chest. You opened your mouth to speak, only to get interrupted as he continued.

"We waited until they left to run some errands, and we decided to try and be super quick." He paused to laugh to himself, you barely listening as you bit your lip, your nipples beginning to poke through the fabric his hands continued to glide over. "We started getting way too loud near the end and almost got caught because we didn't hear them pull in. The only reason we were able to clean up and everything was because you happened to finish before they walked in and could hear what we were doing. Man, what an adrenaline rush that one minute was as we scrambled around listening to them slowly come up the stairs."

By then, you were moaning under him, the fabric rough against your extremely sensitive chest. His strong fingers continued running along, teasing the hardened nubs as he moved on with another story, seemingly unaware of what he was doing. His hands snuck under your shirt, his hands warm as he grabbed as much of your breasts in his large hands as he could. "Sorry, I was talking." He apologized, taking the moment before you responded to swiftly yank your shirt over your head.

In your moment of distraction, you had become so hot and bothered that you hadn’t even noticed how long he had been rambling. You could hardly hear his reminiscing over your increasingly more desperate moans. The feeling of the cold air hitting your already erect nipples made you squirm slightly, you only coming back to reality to a soft warmth on your neck. Your hands lifted, gripping with white knuckles tightly onto his thick hoodie.

You lowered your gaze, the sight of his face resting on your chest greeting you. His hair messily covered his eyes, the deep brown underneath shining in the light of your bedroom. His lips were pressed softly together into a pout, his tattooed arms lifted to lay across your shoulders, wrapping under your head. “You’re not paying attention!” He whined, continuing to pout as he shuffled to lean over you, the mattress squeaking ever so slightly as his knees rested on the bed.

He paused to pull the thick fabric free from his body, letting it thump to the ground as he leaned over you once again, the thick ink on his arms dancing as his muscles flexed in the process. Your eyes widened as his face approached yours, your noses quickly touching, the pout still present. “You didn’t hear my story.” He whined again, softer this time, the shine still present in his wide eyes despite the shadow he was casting over you. “You weren’t even listening.”

“Honey, you were rambling.” You responded, hoping he couldn’t feel your racing heart. He flopped down, his hips straddling your own as he sat up, his strong arms causing the bed to sink in as he continued to lean over you, your thighs tingling at the slight bounce that followed as he grew comfortable on your hips.

“I was telling a story.”

He lowered himself, his lips coming into contact with your own, your hands lifting to grab on the thin white t-shirt that remained. His teeth ran softly over your lips as he pulled away, his hands once again moving to slide under your head. Your thighs burned and tingled with each movement he made.

You were beginning to sweat as you continued gripping him tightly, your hips wiggling to wrap your legs around him. His lips once again moved into a pout, the shine is his eyes disappearing as his head came to rest on your chest once again. He definitely felt you move.

His legs slid around you, his knees moving under your hips to lift them up, pressing his now noticeably tight sweatpants against your shorts. He once again lowered to kiss you, more gentle this time as his hands lowered to remove his sweat pants, leaving nothing between you but your shorts- which already barely covered anything. Your own hands lowered, grabbing onto the hard length poking between your legs, pumping slowly as he sighed into the kiss. Your shoulders ached as his hands pressed against your shoulders, pressing you into the mattress. You sped up your wrist movements, listening as he groaned into the continued kiss.

Suddenly, his hands shot down, levering your legs open and lifting his hips to practically rip your shorts free of your body as he finally broke the kiss. His legs slipped off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thud, swiftly yanking you close to the edge. His fully flexed arms caged you in, his lips coming into contact with your exposed neck, his breathing soft and warm against your skin.

“Roll over.” He huffed, moving to kiss along your chest and shoulders. His face was now a soft pink, lifting to watch you intently as you rolled onto your stomach, letting out a noise of surprise as you were yanked yet further off of the bed, your feet now touching the floor. Kisses once again returned to your neck, an occasional moment of cold causing you to shiver with delight as his tongue traced over your warm skin with each mark he left behind. Your still erect nipples dragged softly over the sheets under you, the cool mixture of the sheets and his tongue piercing causing you to moan loudly under him.

Your face slammed softly against the mattress below, his strong arms pressing against your shoulders to hold you in place, your hips lifting in the process. Of all the times you’ve done this, he wasn’t usually this rough, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t exciting.

“Fu-” You moaned, burying your face in the mattress at the stretch that followed. “-ck.” Your hands gripped onto the sheets, the feeling of his teeth and tongue reaching every inch of your neck making you whimper. He had always been taller, but it wasn’t until now that you realized just how much stronger- and bigger than you he was. You could hardly move with the grip he had on your shoulders, your head the only thing able to move freely. He had you where he wanted you, and it’d probably be a while before he’d free you.

Each thrust ruined your hopes of being quiet, drool beginning to fall from your lips as he continued- each thrust more intense than the last. Your eyes were soon rolled back, your mouth open as saliva dripped from your parted lips, the sharp tugs to your hair adding to the overall ache. Your legs, hips and shoulders were growing more pained with each lewd slam into you, each second bringing you closer to the edge. You were silent, the ache taking your breath away, a loud gasp escaping as he freed your shoulders, yanking you upright by your hair.

His arms wrapped under your chest, freeing you from the bed entirely as he held you in place, your arms contorting behind you to hold onto his now moist t-shirt. You were trembling, your chest burning as you gasped for air. “Jungkook...” You managed, your voice hoarse as your head flopped backwards against his muscular shoulders. You could feel the mess you were already making in your excitement, awaiting the finish you were mere seconds away from, only to groan as you felt him stop, your chest bouncing as he adjusted you.

“No...” You whined in complaint, taking the time to catch your breath only to catch yourself moaning with each exhale. You continued shaking as he kissed along the back of your shoulders. “Don’t stop...” You continued, wiggling your legs slightly to get him to continue. He groaned with your wiggles, grabbing your thighs to keep you in place. “Stop moving.” His voice was soft and gentle, your head rolling around on his shoulder as he placed another kiss on your aching neck.

“You’re so pretty.” He complimented, letting you fall forward with your hands hitting the mattress, his arms firmly gripping your thighs to stop your hips from moving from their position. The little eyeliner you had on had started to run, your hands gripping the sheets in anticipation as you wondered what about you with messy makeup was pretty.

You cried out, your voice still hoarse as the edge approached faster than before. After a minute you were trembling under him again, the ache returning as you tipped closer and closer to the edge. You were reduced to a shaking, squealing, moaning mess in a little over a minute, your legs struggling to hold onto him as they shook.

Your face once again slammed into the mattress, a loud groan felt against your back as his hips sputtered slightly, his large hands grabbing onto your hair once again as he attempted to keep himself steady as he finally tipped over the edge. His breaths were rough and quick against your back, you too busy attempting to catch your own breath to notice his hands had lowered.

You gasped, pleasure coursing through you once again as his fingers moved with renewed vigor. “Ju-Jungkoo-” You pleaded, struggling to even get his name out as his strong hands made quick work of your clit, you finally reaching your release with a sudden, violent shake. He pulled away, the emptiness that followed allowing you to fully fall against the bed, your legs weak as you attempted to stand. His arms wrapped around you, gently laying you down.

“Too much?” He questioned, taking in your exhausted form, his voice dripping with concern. His eyes widened slightly at the black smeared along your cheeks, pouting as he gently wiped it off, not seeming to notice his still wet fingers. “Too much.” He lowered to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, running his fingers through your messy hair. “Definitely too much.”

---

[A/N: Sorry that this came out so much later than I promised. Hopefully it was worth the wait.]

#bts #bts jungkook #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #gamer jungkook #jungkook au

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yeojaa · 3 years

Text

feed me, fight me.

pairing. boxer!jjk x f!reader. rating. explicit. tags. relationship issues, baby angst, comfort, unprotected sex (please be responsible!). wc. 3.5k. beta reader. @hobi-gif, always. 💖 author note. i’m really into comfort fics rn so...

What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend? (Aside from trouble, that is.)

The answer is you - throwing punches far harder than you should be, completely disregarding the fact that you’re meant to be playing the part of perfect partner, meeting pads in the sequence he’s laid out. It’s you throwing a hook when you should be swinging an uppercut. It’s you, snapping your leg out with a satisfying thunk! of your shin when you should only be thip kicking. It’s you, not giving a single damn as you take out all your frustrations on someone who’s growing increasingly more irritated by your childishness. It’s you, blatantly disrespecting him in his ring - sending a reminder that there’s more to life than the four corners of this space.

How can he blame you though, when he’s the reason? When you’ve voiced your annoyance more than once - more than twice, more times than you care to count - and each time it’s met with a half-hearted apology (if you could even call it that)? How can he hold it against you when you’ve asked, demanded, pleaded for more?

“Cut it out,” he seethes, quiet, under his breath, irritation igniting his expression, something hot and angry burning in the dark of his stare. A withering wildfire in an empty field, smoldering coals flickering bright. It presents itself in how his mouth curls, the hard line of his jaw as bone threatens to snap in half from the tension.

“Cut what out?” Your retort is punctuated by the smack of leather on leather, the worn edge of your boxing glove meeting the pad that Jungkook raises just in time to avoid a black eye.

“What’s your problem?” How he manages to snipe back - somehow sounding disgruntled by your behaviour - you’re not sure. All you know is it boils your blood, searing heat within your veins when he effortlessly blocks your next jab. He knows you well and knows the sport better, predicting each movement as if you’re telegraphing it all with a giant neon sign on your forehead.

(You probably are. You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions, pinning your heart on your sleeve, your sadness heavy in your mouth. They wear you, rather than you it. A weakness of yours.)

“You’re my problem.”

“Shut up.” It’s not the usual exasperated annoyance he levels you with, meaner and paired with a swat of your gloved hand. He’s not supposed to be countering you, instead only blocking the punches you throw his way.

(But then again - when did he ever listen to you? When did he ever do what he was supposed to?)

(It’s not a fair assertion. You’re just mad. Livid beyond belief, standing atop this hill that you’ll happily die on.)

“Fuck you,” you snap, offering the petulant comeback in the same instance you surge forward. He blocks your jab - sees it coming from a mile away - and goes to block your hook.

Except it never comes, your knee straightening out instead, hard edge of your shin slamming right into the side of his leg.

He crumples more out of surprise than anything, eyes wide, all the anger swept away by something closer to astonishment. It shines impossibly bright in his eyes, turning his entire expression upside down when his knee hits the ground. By how he falls, you’re sure you’ve hit just the right spot, left his nerve endings buzzing uncomfortably as the feeling leaves the limb.

“Are you serious?” You know he’s genuinely baffled then, voice slipping, cracking in a way you’d normally find adorable. (It goes to show how upset you are, the awkward split of his words doing nothing to soothe your temper.) “What’s your issue?” He’s still seated on the floor, rocking back on his heels, brow knit in consternation. It’d take him seconds to jump up - to put you on your ass - but he chooses to remain where he is, staring up at you with that look on his face.

(That look you love. That you hate. That makes your insides turn to goo on his best days and misery on your worst. That you’ve seen every single day for the last three years, as the first thing upon waking up and the last thing before passing out. That makes you hesitate now, peering down into it.)

(Were you being unnecessary? Unbearable? Was this on you?)

“I’m going home.” It’d be nice to tear your gloves off, throw them in his face and storm off in a huff. It’d cause the scene you’re hoping for, push him to where you need. (Because that’s the thing about Jungkook - he doesn’t react otherwise and you’re sick of it.) Instead, you turn on your heel and slink away, silent as a mouse.

You’re tired. Too tired. Why had you started something you couldn’t finish?

It shouldn’t surprise you that you’re home alone for hours that night, curled up in bed and half-asleep when light from the hallway spills into your bedroom. It comes with hardly any noise, a tell-tale sign he’s trying not to wake you (or disturb you or get caught). You almost let it slide when his figure appears in the doorway, broad frame swallowed up by the oversized sweater he wears.

He’s moving near silently, having already deposited his gym bag in the laundry room. He doesn’t even switch the light on, moving around in the muted glow of the hallway, fumbling as he strips his clothes off and tosses them into the hamper against the wall.

You expect him to head directly into the en suite, wash away whatever grime he’s accumulated throughout the day. He’s always been this way, far too concerned with dragging in odour and dirt into your bed to do otherwise.

Except tonight, he doesn’t follow his usual routine. Tonight, he makes a detour.

The bed dips before you realise what’s happening, grip on the pillow under your head tightening. Words fit between your teeth, ready to spill out, lash out, tear out like a bullet deadset on landing a bullseye.

“I’m sorry.” Two words you’ve been waiting to hear, that startle you enough to throw your anger out the window, tossing them out with the wash. “I don’t know why you’re upset but I’m sorry for whatever it is.” He’s speaking into the quiet of your bedroom. You can feel his hand settled on the bed, wrist somewhere over the line of your spine.

Oh - he thinks you’re asleep.

“Things have been crazy. I’ve been stressed.” Here, under cover of night, he’s vulnerable, explanation tumbling forth uncertainly. You can hear it in the way the words form, syllables slipping into each other - a sure sign of his exhaustion. “I know that’s not an excuse, so I’ll be better.” Though he readjusts, weight distributing differently over the bed, he isn’t touching you. You can only imagine how he looks, the posture he’s taken on, arms leant over knees, hands twisting together in that way of his that begs a silent help me. A version of him you’ve seen only a handful of times.

(Jeon Jungkook does not let things get to him. Never has, likely never will. He’s immaculately put together, strung tight by years of growing up too fast, wanting too much and fearing it’ll slip away. He goes and goes until he can’t any more and only then does he still, crashing headlong over a cliff of his own creation.)

It’s then that you realise while you’ve grown irritated with his preoccupation, coming second to the man you’ve only ever put first, he’s been suffering right alongside you. Differently, certainly, but suffering nonetheless. Holding his cards close as he’s always done, shouldering all the things on his own and hoping for the best.

Irritation flares first. Anger at the fact that he hadn’t confided in you. It burns bright, erodes everything else in its path.

And then it dims almost immediately, overshadowed by a tenderness that blooms in the small of your chest. Rosebuds that fill the cavity and swath affection in broad strokes, colouring everything purple - a pretty mosaic made up of equal parts love and sadness.

“You should’ve said something.”

Bambi-eyed baby is your nickname for your boyfriend - one he reluctantly wears, scowls at when you use it in public - and yet you’re still blown away by the glossiness of his stare, how wide it goes when you roll to face him, simultaneously flicking your bedside light on. There’s embarrassment crowding his expression, lighting up every handsome facet of his features in technicolour. He works to hide it almost immediately, moves back on the bed as if he might find himself a home in the shadows.

“I thought you were sleeping,” he mumbles, not quite looking at you, stare focused on your pillow case, the white linen that you’d bought when you’d moved in together. “Did I wake you up?”

Though his concern is real, you know it’s a distraction too. His way of deflecting, shifting the focus back to you.

(Jeon Jungkook doesn’t live in the spotlight. Hates it, in fact. It’s a curious combination - wanting to be praised, to show off, and yet fearing failure so strongly. A worrying mix when he’s down and an endearing one when he’s up.)

You’re still cocooned, still held far enough away that he hasn’t run for the hills, locking himself in the bathroom to put a further physical barrier between you. Should you move too fast, you know he’ll spook. Push too hard, he’ll leave.

“Couldn’t sleep without you.” It’s true enough. Dreams had evaded you for the better part of the evening, held somewhere by hands inked like his, blemished by scars and calluses like his. They’d been kept in his coat pocket, tucked behind his ear. (So maybe it’d been anger, too, that’d kept you up. That doesn’t matter now.)

The disbelief is evident, both in his words and the quirk of his mouth, bathed in dim light. “Really?”

(You sometimes wonder how different the two of you see things. What a day looks like from his point of view - whether he reads all of your interactions in the same way. You’ve always been terribly incompatible in that way, opposites in so many respects that it’d frankly baffled your friends when you’d started dating.

You were intent - sometimes too intent - on resolving problems, never letting up. Forcing conversations you felt you needed to have, demanding answers even before there was one. He, on the other hand, was uncomfortable with conflict, choosing to ignore the things that bothered him until they went away. It’d driven you absolutely insane at first, made you worry that it was you that was the issue, simply being too much.

But over time - three long years, to be exact - you’d found a common ground. Or so you’d thought.)

“Why are you so surprised?”

“You were pissed earlier.” There’s a lightness to his tone, careful consideration poured into each word he offers, as if he’s navigating a minefield. You’ve had these kinds of disagreements too many times for him to believe otherwise, as if his caution is a part of him, stitched lovingly - forcefully - by your hand. “Thought you wouldn’t wait up for me.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you retort before you can help it, still just a little childish, a little hurt. “But you know I hate going to bed angry.” Of course he knows. He’s lost hours of sleep due to your insistence that everything be talked out.

He hums a noncommittal sound - more of a grunt - and you know your window is closing. Now that you’re not out for blood, he’s retreating as he always does. Readying himself to rise from the bed, close this half-read chapter and move onto the next.

You beat him before he can, curling your fingers around his wrist, over the dangling silver chain. (His birthday gift this year, heavy metal that’s cold under your touch.)

“Don’t.”

One blink. Another. Slow and confused - deliberately so. Then he’s looking away, staring down at the ground as if you haven’t just read his next move. The ring might be his domain but home is yours; it’s the one place you hold the upper hand. “What?”

“Don’t leave.” It’s easy to read the meaning in between your words, the unspoken request that might as well be brilliant red ink. It’s far kinder than your usual demands, more pleading than begrudging, more need than want.

“I need to shower.”

It’s not a no - which you suppose is a win.

“Just wait.” Your request comes with an adjustment, whole tired frame rising from the bed only to sink back down - this time against your partner, your other half, your infuriating love. He accepts you readily, dropping his ink-strewn hand over your covered thigh. The weight is comforting over the warmth of the duvet, grounding you in the quiet of your home.

“I’m gross,” he complains, though he doesn’t make to move away. Stays right by your side when you drop your head against his bare shoulder. “Now you’re gross.”

“We can be gross together.” Because you’re not ready for him to leave you, to close the door as he so often does. (And, for once, you’re not quite as angry, not seeking an argument that’ll give you the resolution you hope for. You want communication, open and honest. You want him, vulnerable and soft.)

A little sigh comes, a puff of breath that expands his doughy cheeks and sends wayward strands fluttering. It’s less resigned and more endeared - you know how much it means when his acquiesces like this.

Maybe he wants those same things, you think.

“Do you wanna shower?” You ask in perfect tandem, words folding together. You nod in the same way.

Encased in the small space - it’s different. He’s preoccupied, back turned to you, shielding you from the slow-heating stream. It’s as if his mind is a thousand lightyears away, trapped somewhere with the stars as the water rains down around the two of you, fogging the glass and wetting his hair.

“Babe?”

There’s a delay before he reacts, peering over his shoulder at you, a faraway look in his eyes. You wonder what he’d been thinking of, whether he’s still on the same page as you or if he’s skipped ahead as he tends to do. When he speaks, you have your answer, his words flicking through paper to bring you two where you need to be.

“Can you wash my hair?” An indulgent treat he rarely requests, one he seldom allows. He’s far too on the go, jumping from this to that to spend much time like this with you.

It’s a sign if there ever was one.

You reach for your shampoo bottle wordlessly, popping the cap and depositing sweet peach-scented liquid into your hands. They fold into his strands carefully, tips of your fingers pressing into his scalp, delightful bubbles accumulating between your digits. He doesn’t make a sound but you feel the way he relaxes, practically melting into your touch as you work the cleanser through his roots, careful to keep the suds from descending into his eyes.

When was the last time you’d done this? Weeks ago? Months, maybe? You honestly can’t recall. (Not that it matters now. You’ve found yourselves back here, terribly tender and intimate in the dead of night. Almost as if no time has passed at all.)

Silence stretches between the two of you. You don’t even need to instruct him to rinse, running seamlessly through the routine without hesitation.

Conditioner replaces shampoo, deft fingers combing through the few knots in his feather soft strands. Though there are hardly any, you know he loves when you take extra care, treating him in ways he’d never ask for otherwise. He savours these quiet moments of almost-solitude, spoiled rotten by your familiar touch and comforting affection.

You’d give it every single day if you could. Had, in fact.

That’s what’d brought you here, after all.

“‘m sorry,” he says - mumbles really - surprising you as you’re working your fingers into the nape of his neck, concentrating on the tension that’s carved out a home beneath muscle and sinew, turned bone iron-clad.

“For what?”

Any other time, it might’ve come across demanding, needing an answer that would soothe whatever inadequacy he’d somehow strung your heart up with. Now, it’s genuine, asked more for him than you.

You want to be let in. Need it.

“Being out of it, I guess.” It’s a lot for him - admitting this. “I’ve just been busy and I guess I kind of just—“ The imposing line of his shoulders rise and fall, a mountain range disturbed by the uncertainty in his voice.

“Forgot about me?” You don’t mean it meanly. It’s a simple statement of fact, one the both of you have to face.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

You deliberate accepting the apology and moving on, sweeping it under the rug because he’s already come so much further than you’d thought he would. But that’s not the kind of person you are, so you press just a little more, stand just a little taller.

“I don’t think I ask for the world, Kook.” Maybe more than some people. Maybe less than others. “If I’m being too much, I’d rather you let me know than shut me out.”

A sigh comes, so heavy you wonder whether he might be Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“No, I know.”

“Do you?”

(At some point you’d stopped massaging the conditioner in, opting to crowd your hands over his back, working into the knots that run beneath his skin. He hadn’t been lying - he’s stiff as a board, entire broad form twitching any time you press the pads of your thumbs into a particularly sensitive spot.)

“I thought I’d figure it out myself,” he reasons, in that oh-so impossible Jeon Jungkook way of his. “Didn't realise it was taking a toll on you.”

“On us,” you correct, not at all tactful.

“On us,” he agrees with another sigh, smaller this time, tinged blue with something that feels like guilt and fills up the glass space.

“We’re a team, you know.”

(You know he knows. You just have to remind him sometimes, anchor him with the knowledge that it’s not him against the world. That you’re in his corner - always.)

“I know.”

When he turns to look at you - doesn’t even flinch when the sudden movement has you wobbling on your feet, catches you when you stumble - you don’t doubt that. He loves you just as much as you love him, sees the whole world in the small of your stare.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, two hands coming to cradle your face, palms warm over each cheek. “Just give me some time.” For what, you’re not sure. You don’t mind waiting to find out though - willing to weather the storm just to see him happy.

Jungkook holds you close, threads his fingers through yours and peppers love into the silk of your hair. Dresses your skin in the heat of his affection and sears his signature into the velvet of your skin, teeth dragging, tongue gliding.

“Is this better?” He means how he holds you, how he treats you like porcelain as he fucks you slow and tender, keeps one leg hooked back over his own.

It’s not that this is the kind of lovemaking you prefer but rather the one you need, with him consuming you wholly, sweetly, filling you with each fluid roll of his hips and nothing else. No elaborate dirty talk, no overzealous bouncing, just the two of you together, curled against each other like you might not survive otherwise.

He’s not pushing you to your finish with deft fingers over your clit, not taking his fill with greedy hands. He’s simply there, with you, feeling every curve of your body as he sinks into your aching cunt and sighs as if he’s in heaven. (And maybe he is - because where he is could only ever be where you are and you feel like you’re floating, weightless and lovestruck, anchored only to your bed by the hand that squeezes yours and the mouth that purrs your name.)

“Yes,” you breathe, exhale in a breath that seems to take all of your effort. It’s hard to focus when he splits you open so well, fills your pussy and your heart and makes your chest erupt with a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

When he says it like that - folds it like a promise and tucks it into the spot behind your ear - you know it’s true. Even if you don’t always feel it, even if he doesn’t always show it, there’s not a doubt in your mind.

In all the ways he can, he loves you. And whether that means enough from one day to the next, you don’t mind sticking around to find out. Not if it means more of this.

(Of him, of you, of your life together.)

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

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willwriteforhugs · 3 years

Text

the most beautiful girl i’ve ever known- jung hoseok

boyfriend! hobi x chubby! reader- one shot !

word count: 2.3k

genre: angst

synopsis: you’ve always struggled with confidence- it’s simply part of who you are. always the chubby student in the class, always the one wearing pants instead of a mini skirt. as an adult, you tried to make peace with it, but after a horrible run in with your coworker, you feel like you just can’t do it anymore- at least, until your boyfriend takes things into his own hands. hoseok’s determined to get you to realize your own beauty, and he’ll do anything for that to happen.

warnings: body-shaming, work harassment, swearing, minor arguing

a/n: wow, first bts fic, here we go...

this fic was requested by a sweet anon- and if they’re reading this, i hope i did the request justice! i think i did well, though i tried to treat the topic with love and respect.

i hope everyone enjoys <333

- - -

your apartment building’s elevator makes a polite dinging noise as the doors slide smoothly shut- and for the second time since they opened, you thank god the small space is empty.

elevators are generally silent places, but now the box is filled with the sound of your rushed, uneven breathing. you rotate so your back is pressed into the corner of the moving elevator, pressing a hand to your face. hot, silent tears stream down your cheeks. your thoughts are a jumbled mess:

god, how embarrassing. crying in a public elevator. anyone could walk in right now.

you try to take a stabilizing breath- but you quickly realize the attempt was in vain. your inhale causes you to hiccup and choke, making you cry even harder. you bury your face in your hands, wondering what you’d done to deserve this.

‘why this body? why?’ you think to yourself. it was a thought that came all too quickly, and one you were familiar with.

you don’t think you were ugly, not necessarily- but you certainly don’t think you were desirable, either. being overweight had always had that effect- not complete hopelessness, but a serious lack of overall confidence. and it’s not like you can help it- you try your best to stay healthy, but genetics do what genetics do. so you are overweight. some days, that fact it didn’t bug you- but today was not one of those days.

in the moment, you feel yourself reach up down and clutch at your own arms, squeezing the soft flesh. you groan quietly, unwillingly reliving what had caused this spiral in the first place.

one hour ago:

you had begun the day in a positive mood, really- but that had all gone to shit once the work day began.

you had a new coworker- mr. lee. he wasn’t your superior, but he liked to be called by his surname, apparently. he’d been hired on a whim two weeks ago, when the company lost the long time employee that previously held mr. lee’s position.

the man, though being probably a decade your senior, had a childlike way of going about the work day. he laughed at things that weren’t funny, and tried to make conversation even when you had your earbuds in.

you hated him, naturally.

he was just too much. over-caffeinated, controlling, and immature- basically everything you despised in a peer.

however- or up until today, at least- you’d been able to tolerate him. but while you were on lunch break, mr. lee drew the last straw with you.

he’d walked into the breakroom, already making too much noise. he was humming, and tapping his foot, and running the microwave, all at the same time. and, unfortunately, you were the only other person in the room- so he made a beeline straight for you.

“afternoon, peach!” he’d said. you hated the nickname, and had no idea of its origins.

“hi,” you grumbled, staring down at your food.

“i didn’t see you come in this morning.”

you made a noncommittal noise. “got here early.”

“right.” the man replied.

a beat passed, and the two of you settled into a stiff silence, only disrupted by the sound of your eating.

and finally, the vulture had a point of interest.

“you really gonna eat all that?” he’d said, looking pointedly down at your meal.

you’d frowned at the comment, and dodged the question. “why do you ask?” you’d replied.

“well, you know. didn’t think a girl like you would need all of that, right?”

you set your fork down, trying to keep your breathing even. before you had been able to come up with an answer, though, he’d continued:

“i mean, you should be trying to lose weight.” he leaned into the word ‘lose’, as if speaking to a child.

you remember your anger had begun to dissipate, quickly replaced by offence and sadness. you’d stood up quickly, grabbing at your things so you could leave.

mr. lee had frowned at your reaction. “come on now,” he’d said. “there’s no need to feel upset, i’m only being honest with you. you don’t want me to lie, do you? you’re fat, you may as well know.”

you spun on him. “and what’s so wrong with being fat?”

before he could supply you with an answer (which he surely thought he had) you’d stormed out of the room and requested the afternoon off.

and now here you are.

you stumble a bit on your way out of the elevator, cursing as you nearly drop your bag. when you finally make it to your door, it takes three tries to get the code correct.

you sigh heavily as the door to your apartment swings open. to your surprise, you find the lights still on, and it takes you a moment to realize why.

it’s friday.

hoseok had the day off.

shit.

you kick off your shoes and shut the door quickly, abandoning any efforts to be quiet. your own sniffles seem loud as you scramble to shut yourself in the hallway bathroom. you don’t want him to see you like this- crying, puffy, and chubby as usual.

right as you slam the bathroom door shut, you hear his voice.

“y/n?”

you grimace, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds of your crying.

“y/n-ah, is that you?”

you hear your boyfriend pad into the hallway, and his steps falter when he discovers your belongings strewn about by the front door. there’s a pause, then the footsteps continue to the bathroom door- where, on the other side, you’re slumped against the cabinets.

hoseok knocks gently. “y/n? love, are you alright? i thought you worked until five today...”

when you don’t answer, he continues. “are you sick?”

you squeeze your eyes shut, and a small sob tears its way out of your mouth.

you can tell your boyfriend heard it, because his voice becomes even more frantic. “y/n?” he says, leaning against the door.

oh, hoseok. sweet, innocent hoseok. he was always so kind to you. you remember the day when he first asked you out- you’d been convinced it was a prank at first, but when you realized he was being genuine, you’d fallen for him instantly. now, you know that genuine was all hobi ever was.

he’d never called you fat. it had crossed your mind, of course- whether or not your size bugged him, or if he had to defend you to his friends- but whenever you’d been brave enough to ask about it, hoseok would always respond with: “of course not, my love, you’re beautiful.”

you’d never pushed it, though now you realize you always wanted to.

now you remove your hand from your mouth, taking a shaky breath. your voice trembles as you finally respond: ‘”i’m okay, i’m- i’m not sick or anything.”

you hear your boyfriend’s body slide down the length of the door, ultimately settling on the ground in front of it. you lean forward so your head is pressed against the wood- the two of you are sitting face to face, with only the closed door keeping you apart.

“y/n-ah, talk to me.” hoseok says. “please.”

your shoulders shake as another wave of tears crashes over you. “i’m sorry,” you manage. “i’m just- i’m not feeling very good right now.”

you can tell hobi’s face is pressed into the door from how close his voice sounds. his words are tinged with distress. “what happened?”

you sigh, overwhelmed with shame and anger. you don’t want to tell him- but of course, you know you have to anyways. if for anything, just to wipe the sad curiosity out of his voice.

“you remember- do you remember how i have that awful new coworker?” you croak.

there was a pause, then: “the older one?”

“yeah. he’s annoying. and rude.”

“okay, yeah. i remember.” hoseok says quietly, urging you to continue.

you inhale slowly. “he just- he said some things to me today, and i-”

hobi interrupts you suddenly, his tone having gone sharp. “what kind of things?”

you pause. “he said... things about my body. he said i needed to lose weight.”

hoseok says nothing, which is always worrisome. you can practically feel his emotions through the solid wooden door- a chaotic mix of distress, concern, and red-hot fury.

after a moment, your boyfriend speaks up. “y/n-ah.”

you hum dully in response.

“can you please open the door?”

you frown, but decide not to fight it. you know he’s only trying to help. so you reach up and scoot back a few feet so that the door can open inwards. hoseok, who had been so faithfully slumped on the other side, shuffles inside the small bathroom, still on his knees.

when he meets your eyes, you can see his heartbreak, and he can see yours. without any hesitation, he reaches forward and takes your face in his hands, softly caressing your tear-streaked cheeks.

you lean into his touch, allowing your body to fall forward into his. he slips an arm around your abdomen in support.

a few minutes pass without speaking, the air filled only with the sounds of hobi’s hand running over your back, and your laboured breathing.

finally, your counterpart speaks up. “y/n- is that all he said? the one thing?”

he places his hand on your jaw to lift your face away from his chest, wanting to meet your eyes.

you sigh, pulling away. “no, he- he told me that i should eat less, and that-” your breath catches. “well, he said i was fat.”

hoseok’s jaw clenches, and you shift in his arms. “what?” you whisper.

his eyes are aflame when he responds. “why would he say those things to you? i just- why did he think he’d have any right?”

you look away. “i don’t know. male workplace entitlement.”

hobi gives a wry chuckle. “that’s no excuse.”

“i know.”

“we’ll report him, alright? i will, if you won’t. that’s no way to be speaking to coworkers.”

you nod vaguely as hobi runs his hands up and down your arms. trapped underneath you, your right foot begin to fall asleep.

“baby?” your boyfriend asks after a minute.

“do you think he’s right?” you burst, eyes burning. “do you think i need to lose weight?”

hoseok’s face falls, and he grasps at your wrists. “y/n,” he starts.

“no,” you interrupt. “really, hoseok. i- i’m not enough for you, am i? i don’t know why you stay with me. you’re way out of my league.”

“y/n!” hobi snaps. his tone is suddenly sharp.

you shut your mouth, already regretting your words.

“my love.” hoseok whispers, his voice breaking. “how could you say that?”

you choke on a dry sob, unable to answer.

your boyfriend’s eyes search your face, desperate for an answer that isn’t there. “how could you ever think that you aren’t good enough? and- what, just because you aren’t skinny?”

you look down at the floor as he continues, blinking rapidly. the tears really won’t stop.

“that’s a silly way to think.” hoseok says quietly. “and i know that for a fact, y/n. because you are the most beautiful girl i’ve ever known. and you always will be, no matter how big you are. you could be four sizes smaller, or four sizes larger, and i would love you all the same.”

you burrow your face further into his chest. “you mean it?” your voice comes out in a whimper.

“absolutely.” he says, not hesitating. “there is no version of events where you aren’t good enough for me. you’re too good for me, honestly. sometimes i think you deserve better.”

you pull away now, frowning. “that’s not true.”

“why not?”

“well,” you falter. “because i love you. and i chose you. i chose you because i love you, and i don’t want anybody else.”

above you, hoseok smiles gently, waiting for you to hear your own words.

the realization hits, and you understand suddenly. he wanted you to say that, to hear it from yourself.

“oh,” you whisper.

“now do you get it?”

you sniffle, grateful that your tears have mostly subsided. “yeah,” you mumble. “i get it.”

“good.” hobi pauses. “i love you, y/n. and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says about you, because you’re gorgeous, and you’re important. and you will never be defined by your body. i’ll call your office and report that awful guy, alright?”

you nod silently.

“okay.” he says, nudging your arm. “now how about you get cleaned up? since you’re home early we can spend the whole evening together if you’d like.”

you perk up at that. “oh- yes, i want to.”

hoseok smiles. “i thought so. here-” he rises to his feet, extending a hand to help you. you take it, placing your palm in his. he lifts you to standing, then smiles again.

“don’t worry, my love. i’ll fix your mood right up. i even have some sample tracks i could show you!”

you smile gently. “that sounds nice.”

as he turns to leave, you clear your throat. “hoseok.”

he turns quickly, eyebrows raised. “hmm?”

you gesture for him to come closer, and as soon as he’s in arm’s reach, you lean over and kiss him.

it’s a gentle kiss, really. a kiss that says i love you, and a kiss that says thank you, for everything.

hoseok hums into your mouth, hands quickly finding your waist. you lean into him, body and mind buzzing. kissing hoseok is your favorite, because each time is just a little different.

your hands find his hair, and you smile against his mouth. you can feel him smile back.

he kisses you for just a moment longer, then pulls away.

he rests his forehead on yours, sighing lightly.

and you know that you have never felt more loved, more beautiful, more safe, then you do in that moment, with him.

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rinstars · 3 years

Text

pool party

pairing: suna x reader

genre: smut

word count: 2k+

tags: fingering, penetration, public sex, dacryphilia, size kink, a tiny bit of praise, degradation/humiliation, mention of toys, strangers/neighbors sex, overstimulation, multiple use of different names, kind of dubcon

description: when you decided to go for a swim in the middle of the night on the private pool of your apartment complex to relax and things took a different turn.

after getting through a whole week filled with nothing but paperworks, meetings, and deadlines – you need a good swim. that's what you tell yourself as you shuffle around your room to search for your phone and towel, setting it on the bed as you pick out a good bathing suit to wear for your little relaxing swim on the pool of your building.

it's close to midnight. surely, you would be the only one in the space, giving you the alone time you've been praying for the whole week. speeding along the hallways and into the elevator with your robe wrapped around your body, you feel excitement bubble through your stomach at the thought of finally getting rest.

you wait patiently, tapping your foot on the marble until the elevator opened, presenting you with a sight you did not expect to see. standing shirtless in the pool, with half of his body submerged into the water, is your neighbor suna rintaro.

the gasp that escaped your lips was unavoidable as you looked at the hard muscle of his abdomen littered with water droplets, his wet long hair pushed back from his face with a bored, nonchalant look. wetness started pooling on the bikini you're wearing, making you curse yourself in the head. truthfully, you haven't been able to release your frustrations for a whole week, so one could only guess how much you're aching to be touched.

refusing to look like a fool in front of suna, you decided against hopping back in the elevator and dismissing the idea of a swim. your nimble fingers reach the knot of your robe, undoing it before shrugging it off your shoulders and onto the floor. you didn't miss the way he watches you shamelessly, following your every move with a sharp gaze.

when you eventually dipped in the pool, you stayed as far from him as possible, scared if you were within close proximity, you would do something regrettable.

barely any light illuminates the pool, your bodies below the water almost invisible to the eye. an idea pops into your head, admittedly a stupid idea, but you couldn't ignore the throb between your legs. turning your back against suna, you let your fingers run from your stomach to the band of your bikini, slipping your fingers in and parting your folds open. you let out an inaudible gasp at the cold water enveloping your twitching bud.

you didn't move for a while, just letting yourself feel the cold water wash away the heat of your warm cunt. lost in the mild feeling of euphoria, you didn't hear the movement of someone getting close to you, the ripples he created in the water unnoticed. it wasn't until you felt someone grip your wrist from behind did you jump at the realization that suna must have noticed what you were trying to do.

wordlessly, he pulled your fingers away from inside your panties, tugging on the wrist he caught earlier. you let him, face flushed from combined embarrassment and arousal. his hard chest is pressed on your back, making you almost want to throw your head back and lean to him. he shifted a little, causing a hard muscle to bump in the middle of your thighs, making you to let out a disgruntled groan.

in your head, you thought fuck it and started to slowly push your behind to him, so your ass is resting on his hardening cock. however, cold and wrinkled fingers suddenly pressed on your clit, making you scream out. he slapped a hand on your mouth, pulling you closer to him as his fingers circle your clit with such ferocity.

"even the water can't wash away how fucking wet you are." he growls in your ear, nibbling on the lobe as he continues his torture on your twitching clit. you spread your legs father, allowing him to slip his fingers further in you. the pads of his calloused fingers reached your slit, pushing two fingers in it with warning.

"s-suna." you throw your head back, clenching your walls around him as he assaults your pussy with the repeated, harsh pumps of his digits. his tongue is latched on your neck, sucking bruises on the skin with his teeth.

"if you wanted me that bad, you should've just said so from the beginning, baby." he whispered with a teasing smile before inserting a third finger in you and stretching you out with his scissoring. you feel your legs tremble, losing the strength to stay still and standing, but the way he's ramming his fingers upwards keep you upright.

"you didn't know the walls separating us our thin?" he spoke with a teasing tone but you weren't able to catch on, until he continued. "you think i don't hear you moaning my name out as you pump toys in and out of your cunt, you fucking slut?"

you gasp, both at shock from the statement and the way he's fingering you knuckles deep now, with the addition of his thumb rubbing digits on your sensitive clit. you didn't know what to say at the statement. there's no point in denying something that's real.

instead, you rock on his finger, almost as if you're riding his fingers to orgasm. his other hand gripped your jaw, turning your face to him. you were going to close the distance for a kiss when he denied you and instead pushed your mouth open before spitting on it.

"swallow it, bunny." he instructs, watching you with animalistic eyes. arousal spreads through you even more as you swallow, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. he turns you on so much. you've been imagining his fingers in you since the moment he moved next door, the feeling of his beautiful athlete fingers splitting you apart.

you were about to release a large moan when he shushed you again, turning the both of you around. shock replaced the confusion written on your face as you heard approaching voices, eyes widening at the possibility of being caught.

"oh, you like that?" he laughed in your ear as his fingers started moving even faster than before (if that was even possible). "clenching at the thought of being caught, huh? what a dumb little slut you are."

it was all just too much – his dirty talk and long fingers fuelling your desire. your hips bucked for the last time as you cum around his fingers, coating his hand with your slick.

he retracted his hands away from your pussy but remained his hold around your body, facing the two other boys now swimming in the very same pool you're both in. you felt him nod in greeting as the others smiled back at both of you, noticing the way one of them stares at your breast a little longer than necessary.

they both swim a little closer to you and suna, starting a small talk you couldn't care to join in. not when all of your strength has been reduced to nothing just a few minutes ago.

you were nodding along to the conversation when you felt your panties being pushed aside, making you gasp when you realize that it is, in fact, suna's throbbing cock.

the guys snapped their attention to you when they heard you make the noise, asking you if you're fine. with a hard nod and a tight smile, you assure them it's nothing. with much effort, you feel the tip of his cock slip inside your tightening cunt, making you bite your lip to prevent a sound from escaping. in your head, you curse at the boys in front of you for making it way too difficult to act, but then you knew that this is exactly what suna wanted.

your harsh glare on the duo never faltered, not once, until one of them noticed and hurriedly tried to pull the other way, whispering something about how they're taking up too much of your time. a flood of relief washes over you, and the moment they're a good distance away, suna once again turns your back to where the audience are.

"what a good girl." his fingers brush the damp hair falling on your face. he angled his hips better before slowly continuing to ease in your little cunny.

you have always imagined suna was a big guy, from the way he's built and how ridiculously tall he looks. but what you didn't expect is that he was this huge. you have never failed to accommodate something when you're being penetrated, but half way in with suna and you're already overstimulated. by the time he's all the way in, you gasp as your fingers fly to your lower abdomen, feeling his tip all the way there.

"fuck, you're so – ahh, s-so big." you grip his forearms as he began slowly pushing his length balls deep. the coil in your stomach tightening by the minute as he continuously tortures you with the lazy buckles of his hips.

"please move faster, suna, p-please please." you beg him, tears lining the edge of your eyes and a broken sob makes its way out of your throat.

suna felt his cock twitching and hardening at the sight of your face, tears moistening your eyes with a pout etched on your lips. "when you imagine me fucking you do i go slow like this or do i split you apart with my cock, hmm?"

humiliation fills you at the thought of him hearing you get off to his name every night but you certainly can't stop now, not with his cock wrapped in your tightness at a public pool where people are also swimming. with a choke, "y-you split me apart your cock."

he didn't even need to reply after that as he pulls his cock all the way back before slamming all of him into you again. his tip repeatedly kissing the opening of your cervix, making you let out a rather loud moan. he pinched your clit at that, the other hand wrapped around your throat.

"do you want a show? make a sound again, baby, and i'll show them what kind of slut you are." he threatens, kissing your cheeks and temples as tears keep falling – from the pain of having to keep your voice down to escape humiliation.

the water below you is moving so rapidly that it's creating ripples and bubbles to the surface, paired with the squelching sounds from where your bodies meet each other. he fucks your cunt deep and hard, making you feel every protruding vein along with every inch of his skin.

"does this compare? to the toys you stuff your cunt with?" he taunts you, groaning as he feels you clamp down on him even tighter. when you refuse to open your mouth in fear of making a sound, suna pulls your bra down from your breast, exposing your nipples to the harsh cold air. you immediately trembled at the feeling, head falling down as your face contorts in bliss. you were sure if suna wasn't holding you by the neck, you would have submerged into the water already.

with a strained sound, you managed to say. "nothing c-compares. your cock is so fat, so g-good — a-ahh suna.. 'm so stuffed."

when his fingers swirl your nipples, pinching both sides as he pumps himself into you along with his whispered degradation in your ear, it was all just too much. you feel your vision turning white as orgasm bubbles through your body.

suna curses a string of fuck as he feels you squeeze the seed out of him, almost as if you're telling him to cum with you but refusing to let him go at the same time. "want to be my little cumdump, bunny? want me painting your insides white?"

you nod at him with eagerness, chin touching the knuckles of the hand on your throat as you cream around him one last time, releasing your sticky juice into his cock. soon after, he fills you up too. you feel the sticky liquid gushing and dancing inside you, trailing down your thighs as it overflows.

"no no no no, clench, my angel. don't let a single drop out." he hums in your ear before pulling away from you and placing your panties back in place after your bra.

you nod, clenching your walls before eventually collapsing in his arms from exhaustion. he wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head, "are we taking this to your house or mine?"

#suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou x reader #suna smut #suna x reader #suna x you #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #tw dubcon

1K notes · View notes

pinkdoodoofart · 3 years

Text

I Just can’t Anymore Bakugou Katsuki x Black!Reader x Izuku

Summary: You couldn’t handle Bakugou’s yelling anymore

Type: Angst + Fluff + Slight Sexual Content

⚠️CURRENTLY BEING EDITED ⚠️

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To say things with your boyfriend was an absolute dream, was an understatement. He wasn’t the nicest guy or the most caring, but in private he tried his best to be. Bakugou Katsuki was his name. Labeled as the loudest, rudest, and arrogant guy in Class 1-A. Originally, you hated his guts a lot. Especially when he would insult your performance in class. You honestly never even imagined yourself dating a guy like him, but here you were.

Now you don’t exactly regret being in a relationship with Katsuki. He can genuinely be a good guy. Whether it be paying for something for you at the mall or helping you study for upcoming tests. Or even just regular dates. The dude wasn’t that bad. Until later in your relationship it started to plummet.

It was only after a few months of dating, you noticed Katsuki acting a little stranger. In the beginning on your relationship, Katsuki did yell at you. Though it was more in a teasing way rather than in a rude way. Though the longer you were together his yelling would get worse. You genuinely couldn’t tell if he was joking anymore.

It got to the point where he would start ignoring at school and call off dates constantly. It was starting to frustrate you. Though you chose to leave it alone for a little and give the guy some space. Hoping things would get better.

They didn’t.

He still ignored you during the day and called off the dates. It started to really hurt now. You didn’t know if he wanted to still be in a relationship. The amount of nights you cried yourself to sleep and the state you were in every morning, was noticeable to many of your classmates. Most of them hoping Katsuki would do something and help, only for their hope to be crushed. Like yours.

Just like any other day, your hope was crushed even more. This time though, your hope has completely shattered.

As you entered the classroom, most of your classmates were there. Only missing not present. One of those students who were present was your bitter and loud boyfriend sitting at his desk, feet kicked up on top as usual. Smiling, you make your way over to his desk and give Katsuki a quick kiss on the cheek. He swiftly turned his head towards you with a scowl. As it was no secret that you were in a relationship with Katsuki, public affection was a big no no in his book. You were treated as if you were a stranger.

It sucked…

“The fuck are you doing?” He asks irked by the sudden kiss.

“I can’t give a kiss to my boyfriend?” Clinging to his arm trying to be cute. That was your first mistake. Instead of giving affection in return like he would do in private, he pushed you roughly off of him. Feeling a sharp pain in your back, you fell back onto the floor against the desk. You looked up at him in shock. He has never done that before.

Ever.

The worst part was that he didn't even help you up. He just looked at you before turning his attention to the front looking at nothing. Instead, Deku came over and gave you a hand. As thankful as you were, you wished Katsuki helped you instead. As he was your boyfriend.

Deku quickly asked to make sure you were alright making you slightly blush. Izuku was always so helpful to everyone. Especially you. He had always had a big crush on you. Everyone knew... except for you of course.

You quickly thank the boy before hearing a quick scoff next to you.

“The hell? Why are you touching my girlfriend you damn nerd?”

“I-I was just h-helping her up K-kacchan…. something you should have done…”

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” Katsuki grabbed Deku’s uniform collar and began screaming in his face. In a panic, you quickly tried to peel Katsuki off of Deku before he does anything worse. That was your second mistake. Not only were you feeling pain in your back, you felt a sharp pain on your cheek. Holding it you look at your boyfriend in shock.

“Don’t touch me you bitch.” Your eyes widened at the derogatory name towards you. “God why do you have to cling to me like a little kid? Its fucking annoying. Not to mention letting this shitty nerd help you up. You are useless if you can’t get up on your own.” He says with annoyance. “Jeez are you actually crying, you need to man up Y/N,” the continuous bashing only dampened your mood even more. Hands by your side start ball up into tight fists as you look at the boy with such hatred.

Dating a guy who's the biggest asshole at school. But he isn't always like that. When alone with you, he can be pretty soft. Even secretly makes you snacks. You really did love him, but being yelled at in front of everyone everyday is not something you love. So here you were, tears pricked in your eyes while your body shaked tremendously. Even embarrassed by the amount of eyes on you and your boyfriend.

And before you knew it, you snapped.

“How about you stop yelling all the fucking time huh? You act as if you are some God when you're not Katsuki. You're a student at UA training to be a hero,” you respond angrily. Not caring that he looked at you with shocked eyes as well as other students. You have had it. “Quite frankly, I don’t see you as a hero at all. You would be more fit for a villain.” After the last words left your mouth you immediately ran out of the classroom with tears in your eyes.

Landing on the steps to the entrance of UA, you sit and cry to yourself wondering why you started to date such an asshole. What happened between then and now? He was a lot sweeter earlier in your relationship, what changed? These thoughts continuously raced through your mind for what felt like hours. After crying for a little longer, you felt yourself calm down and decided to just skip school and head back to the dorms.

You opted to stay in your room until you felt better. Laying in your bed feels like you have entered a threshold of tranquility. You sadly, did not fall asleep as fast as you hope. Negative thoughts continue to plague your mind as you lay there hopeless of ever rekindling your relationship. Soon you felt your eyes close and fell into a dreamless slumber.

The sound of continuous knocks on your dorm door woke you up. Whoever was knocking really needed to talk to you. Immediately, you shot up. In hopes that it was Katsuki ready to apologize. Quickly you open the door, and to your disappointment but also……. happiness? Standing there was Izuku Midoriya, fumbling with his hands and green eyes averted from yours.

“H-hey Y/N…. you never c-came back to c-class…,” he stutters out. Looking down your negative thoughts from before came back, souring your mood. Noting your expression, Izuku impulsively grabs your shoulders asking if your okay.

“No, I’m not… can you please stay with me?” After receiving a nod in response, you grab Izuku’s hand and pulled him to your room.

“Hey… Y/N don't listen to kacchan… you are not useless at all. You are an amazing girl that I am so glad we are friends,” Izuku says warmly. Feeling your heart flutter a bit, tears began to fall from your eyes. Immediately panic set into Izuku. He started flailing his arms wondering whats wrong before feeling arms wrap around him. You were hugging him. You. Were. Hugging. HIM!!!

“Thank you Izuku, that means a lot to me.” Soon, he wrapped his arm around you to reciprocate the hug. The hug had such a lovely warm feeling to it. It reminded you of the love you felt with Katsuki. But the more you thought about it, the less it bothered you. Letting go, you both look into each other's eyes for a second.

Were his eyes also so beautiful. That thought rang through your head before you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

After a little more cuddling with Izuku, he unfortunately had to leave to do homework. “Thank you again Izuku, you are a great…… friend,” you say with a slightly fake smile. His smile fell but was quickly regained.

“Mmm no problem Y/N… I'm glad I could help.”

After he leaves, you immediately head over to your bed to pick up your phone. Looking through your contacts, you find the one person you definitely need to talk to.

You hit the call button and wait for him to answer. After a few rings you hear a gruff what be uttered.

Sighing you respond coldly, “I’m coming to your dorm. We need to talk, now.” Not bothering to hear a reponse, you end the call and head over to his room.

Knocking on his door a few times, you waited for him to open up. Instead of the door opening, you met with silence. Annoyed, you knock again hoping he would open up. Again no avail. Your knocking became more furious and consistent, similar to Izuku’s knock but alot more harder. Soon you heard a growl and loud footsteps approaching the door. Slammed open in your face you see your boyfriend looking at you with an empurpled look.

“Jesus fuck, you’d think you would be smar….. never mind come in.” Katsuki says not looking you in the eye before moving to the side to let you in. You enter quickly and sit at his desk, while he sits on his bed.

“I came here to talk about this mornin-“

“Why the fuck did you not come back to class?” Pissed you looked at him with an irritated look.

“Because I felt I don’t know… sad? Sorry I’m sensitive?” Sighing, you close your eyes for a second before opening to look at Katsuki. Jesus, he's already looking at you. “Look I apologize for what I said earlier this morning. It was uncalled for and I hope you can forgive me.”

“Yeah i forgive you….. I’m also sorry I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I was pissed off that morning and you clinging to me didn't help.” Looking down you bite your lip nodding.

Well here goes nothing…..

“Katsuki we need to break up…” As the last word left your mouth, he immediately stood up and grabbed your wrists in his hands with such displeasure.

“Dammit Y/N! I apologized isnt that enough. You don’t need to break up with me over a bad morning.”

“Katsuki its not just this morning. You always treated me like a stranger out in public and even called me useless more than once since we’ve dated. I really did like you Katsuki but now this was the last straw.”

Staring at you in disbelief, Katsuki let go of your wrists and turned away from you. “Look Katsuki we can still be frien-“

“S-SHUT UP! S-SHUT THE F-FUCK UP!” His voice cracked significantly with small whimpers following suit.

Is he crying? Slowly, you walked around to see his handsome face to see tears streaming down it. Slowly you wrap your arms around him in a way to comfort him. Thankfully it worked. But you didn't feel the loving you used to feel when you hugged him. That feeling was lost more than a week ago.

That’s right. You lost that fluttery feeling for him awhile ago. The more he yelled and called you useless, the smaller that feeling was till it disappeared. “I’m sorry,” he says weakly. You nod into his shoulder as a way to say it was okay.

You two finally break apart and look at each other for a little while. His eyes were still a pretty crimson red, but they weren’t as pretty as Izuku’s pretty green eyes.

Your eyes widened. Why were you thinking about Izuku? Flushed you quickly leave your exs to head to Izuku’s dorm. Damn… it already feels so weird to call him your ex.

Knocking on his door a few times you waited patiently for him to answer. Barely a few seconds had passed before he quickly opened the door to see you eyes bright with excitement.

“H-hey Y/N! What’s up? Do you need somethi-mmph!”

You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him to kiss him. Your smooth plump lips against his chapped but slightly smoothed lips moved in sync with each other.

Slowly you both walk backwards until he is laying on his bed with you on top of him straddling his waist.

“I like you Izu. I haven’t even realized it till now.”. Staring up at you with wide eyes, Izuku quickly pulled you by the neck with his arms to kiss him again.

“I like you too Y/N…. I’ve always had. I was always jealous and pissed by how Kacchan had you but also how he treated you. You needed to be treated like a Queen.” Smiling at him you slowly lean down and kiss his neck, emitting a small moan to go past his lips.

Here you both were… Naked in Izuku’s bed.

“I will never treat you the way Kacchan did Y/N,” Izuku says while nuzzling your neck.

“I know Izu, I believe you. Can I please stay here tonight and cuddle?” Giggling, he nods and holds you close to him.

The next day everyone was shocked by the sight of you and Izuku holding hands and close to each other. Of course, Katsuki was pissed, but he knew Izuku would treat you better than he could. As for Ochako, she was also jealous, but if Izuku was happy she was happy.

“Thank you Izuku…” He looked at you slightly confused.

“For what?”

“For helping me realize that I’m not useless.”

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Word Count:

Okay was working this for like a week or two but i hope you guys like it

Also didnt proof read but ill do it later :3

#bakugou x reader #poc friendly #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x black!reader #bakugou x black reader #angst #fluff #izuku fluff #izuku x reader lime #bnha

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velvetmel0n · 4 years

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No More Than a Name For Yearning

Summary: It’s a late night at the office when the tension becomes too much.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 6.5k+

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, vaginal fingering, a threesome (tag teaming?? idk man they take turns), Javier and Carrillo being competitive? penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, egregious use of italics and em dashes, exhibitionism and voyeurism? little bit of dom!Carrillo, Javier smoking as per usual, mutual pining, angst

A/N: let’s hope I didn’t overhype this lmao. Special thanks to @tintinwrites and her knowledge of musicals for the title💕

@damerondjarin @mandoplease @tintinwrites @poeticandors @darksideofclarke @futzingorchids @pascalplease @glowingpena @ollypopp @yougottakeeponkeepinon @bisexual-space-slut @agentpike @mylifeliterally @pedropasscals @huliabitch @winters-buck @hystericalmedicine @watsonwise @1zashreena1 @chelsfic @halfwaythereroyal @leahsafae @qveenbvtch @maxlordd @acomplicatedprofession @bobafvtt @propertyofdindjarin @milleniumvalcon @the-bird-suit @girlpornparadise @okay-murdocks @slfreya @aellynera @duamuteffe @ah-callie @bookshelvesandteacups @woakiees @himbopoes @shadow-assassin-blix @thedevilwearsvibranium @littleferal @veuliee2 @mserynlarsen @lesqui @softpedropascal @writefightandflightclub @catfishingmorales

“I’m done.” Steve’s voice, all Southern hospitality and exhaustion, breaks you out of the haze you’re in and have been in for the last two hours, English and Spanish swimming before your eyes and you smile up at him reflexively, grateful for the distraction, however small it is. It had been a bad day for everyone, bad intel and a bad raid and now you’re stuck shifting through mountains of files, looking for where you went wrong and the next plan of attack. “Do you want a ride?”

“I’m good, I want to work on this a bit more,” You say confidently, trying for a tone and an expression that says ‘I’m staying because I want to finish this, not because I don’t want to be alone yet’ while his blonde eyebrows knit together high on his forehead. Your smile doesn’t crack under the weight of the energy he’s putting out, brotherly and almost concerned as his eyes flick towards the only other people in the office with you; Javier and Carrillo.

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” You snort when Javier waggles his eyebrows dramatically at you over a stack of his own files to go through. “Javi’ll take me home,” You say because he will. You don’t have a car, having wanted to save money and not fully grasping the inherent dangers of being a DEA agent who relies on public transport in the middle of Escobar’s territory before you had moved here.

You’d started saving the second week of living in Colombia, but somewhere along the way it had become less of a pressing issue and more of an afterthought as you fell into the rhythm of jumping into Steve’s car as he swung by on his way into work or pounding on Javier’s door, just down the hall from your own with some sort of baked good in your hands as the customary bribe.

“You sure?” He’s giving you another chance, another out, because it’s late and it’s hot and his nerves are probably still frayed just like everyone else’s who aren’t showing it and he no doubt thinks you need a break just as much as he does.

“I’m a big girl, Steve. I’ll be fine,” You turn a page, sending him the message that yes, you’re staying. You’ll wait Javier out, promising him some muffin or cookie you’d picked up from the store, crumbly and too sweet but he gobbles them down anyways.

“Oh—kay,” He drawls out, sounding unconvinced but he’s picking his jacket up from where it’s been laying on his desk. “You crazy kids don’t have too much fun now,” He digs his keys from his pocket as he walks out and the hollow slam of the door shutting behind him doesn’t shake anyone.

And it takes a moment for the gravity of what you’ve just done to sink into you, how you’ve just stranded yourself on a desert island of paperwork and intel. How you’re trapped between the two men you think about late at night when you’re alone and hungry, now hunched over one singular desk with them and your mouth goes dry.

Your skin prickles and some part of you thinks that this might be better; better than the stress of the day and the frustration that rises in your blood every time you have to ask one of them to translate for you because cartel slang isn’t taught in any class and at least Carrillo tells you. You’ll tilt the paper at him and point and he leans close, brows heavy over his sharp eyes and he’ll say it once in English, only once and his tone is equal parts exhaustion and frustration but it’s enough.

Javier is more of a bastard about it. The way he smirks every time you ask him for anything, smooth and suggestive and asking what you’ll do for him as payment and as much as it gets on your nerves you can’t help but rise to it, batting your eyelashes and threatening to do one thing or another which of course never fazes him. It helps soothe the more ragged edges of your nerves, falling back on the familiar rhythm of your friendship, the push and pull wrapping around your shoulders like a security blanket.

You both know that you’ll each fall apart in your own way as soon as goodnights have been said and your apartment doors have closed, but that’s a problem still hours away. It’s a problem you’ll deal with alone in your bed, hugging your pillow and wishing you had someone warm and solid sharing your bed because you could attach yourself to them somehow you think. Anchor your body to theirs, to reality, so you don’t float off into nightmares.

Carrillo seethes beside you, quiet and his mouth set in a hard line but you still find yourself wanting to reach out to him. It’s stupid but you want to reach out and smooth your hands over him, want to bleed the tension form his body because he carries too much of it and he can’t bury it under innuendos and harmless flirting like Javier can, like you’ve learned to.

You think about it sometimes, what might happen if you acted on your desires with the Colonel. You know what will happen with Javier if you ever take him up on the offer, one that’s stood since your first week here. You’ll know that he’ll treat you right, that he’ll take you out of your head and take you apart piece by piece. Maybe he’ll even put you back together again and you can’t deny that you’ve been thinking about it more and more lately.

But Carrillo is a puzzle and maybe that’s why you keep thinking about him as much as you do, maybe you want to take him apart just as much as you want Javier to do the same to you. You want to know what it’s like to have all that energy focused on you, intense and bordering on obsessive. All consuming.

The next exhale is shaky and you realize you need to stop before you start staring at them, at the way Carrillo’s shoulders fill out his uniform or catch Javier’s profile out of the corner of your vision, the way his mouth twists with displeasure underneath his mustache. You need to stop before you start thinking about what that mustache will feel like against your skin or how tight Carrillo’s grip on you would be.

You try to bury yourself back in the files and grainy photographs, trying to ignore the ache between your thighs and you realize that you were wrong, that this is worse.

The next hour passes in a haze, steeped in frustrations and stress and an insidious kind of tension, the air plucked taut like a bow string. You’ve untucked your blouse and have already undone the first button but you’re reaching for the next two barely ten minutes later and you don’t know if you’re overheated from the weather or the look you’d seen Javier give you when you reached for your collar the first time, thick eyes slid over to you and following the motions of your fingers. You think Carrillo might be watching you, too— see his head tilt from the corner of your eye, see his fingers still as they turn a page. You keep going, slipping the buttons from their closures and maybe you make more of a show than you should of opening your collar. Of fanning yourself and slipping your hand underneath your shirt to rub your shoulder.

No one says a word and you keep your eyes fixed on the ones in front of you, absently kneading your own shoulder as you wait for their eyes to slide away, for the moment to pass because it feels like it’s clogging your throat.

“Need a hand?” Javier raises his eyebrows, points his chin at the one you have stuck up your shirt, your fingers squeezing at the knot that’s formed and you snort. It splinters the tension enough that you can breathe.

“In your dreams, Peña,” Because the last thing you need right now is for him to touch you, the rasp of his fingers over your smooth skin with Carrillo watching the entire thing, less than three feet away. Your stomach clenches at the thought, a traitorous thrill forcing its way up your spine and you dig just a little too far into the tendon and a noise slips from your lips.

You expect Javier to call you out on it, on the way the sound just...flows out, low and keening but pitched up towards the end and you don’t breathe. You don’t know if anyone breathes because it’s like you’re the only three people awake right now. The only three people alive and the glow of the streetlights outside is pulsing and hazy as it slips through the cracks in the blinds and it’s making you feel like you’re in a fever dream, like suddenly all the consequences of bad decisions, of feeding the monster in your gut are going up in the smoke that bleeds from Javier’s cigarette.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t and neither does Carrillo and your breath shakes itself out of you, your fingers smoothing over the tendon you had just curled into and you have half a mind to go home, to try and call Javier off the hunt so you can curl up in your own bed and try to sleep off the stress and the heat, the thoughts that keep rising to the surface.

The sound of Carrillo yanking a drawer open drags you out of the daydream that’s trying to coalesce and you see him pull the bottle out; think that the frustration must be getting to him. You can’t blame him for it.

“I hope you’re planning on sharing, Carrillo,”

Because there’s something to be said for warm alcohol and the way it burns the whole way down like it’s holding a grudge. You don’t know what it is— it’s something clear and biting that smells like window cleaner when Carrillo unscrews the cap and passes it to you, the bottle half drunk already and the thought is dim in the back of your mind that the Colonel himself must’ve done this dozens of times before, that your lips are wrapping around the very same rim as his must have as you swallow a mouthful and try your best not to grimace. Your lips tingle on contact and you know whatever it is it’s strong, probably enough to fuzz your better judgement.

You’re already passing it to Javier when you see him reaching for it, fingers hungry in the way they wrap around the bottle. He gulps, bares his teeth at the taste and holds it out to Carrillo who swallows a mouthful of what you suspect to actually be paint stripper without blinking. Rinse, repeat.

The alcohol loosens your tongues and before you know it Javier is cluing you in on the things that are said behind your back, when you’re not in the room. Warning you about a young agent who’s been making noise about asking you out, maybe getting you in bed and you can’t help it.

You chuckle and the words rise unbidden to your tongue, spurred on by a combination of alcohol and stress, of sleep deprivation and the oppressive heat. You don’t realize your mistake until a second after the words are out of your mouth and you can feel your stomach drop to the floor.

“I’d rather fuck you grumpy bastards,”

Because it’s just as much about the wording, how you said it as much as it’s about the fact that you said anything at all. You’d rather fuck them. Not either, not one of. You’d rather fuck them.

“What was that?” There’s a change in Javier’s voice, some new chord resonating in the air and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Carrillo drinks slowly from the bottle and you can see his throat working, his Adam’s apple bobbing and he’s looking at you with intent. It makes you want to squirm.

“I— I just mean if I had to choose, between you and Miller I mean, I’d— I would choose you,” You fumble it and you know it. You’re not looking at either of them, eyes staring down at the files still on the desk because you feel warm and prickly all over, trying to keep your breathing even because you’re spiraling. You’re afraid; afraid of their reactions, if they’ll snort and reject you after all and afraid of what will happen if word gets out. The fear tangles with arousal in your gut, as exhilarating as it is confusing and no one is saying anything.

You see motion out of the corner of your eye, a large hand gripping the back of your neck a moment later and he almost pulls you out of the chair with his urgency to crash your lips against his own— Carrillo. You melt into the kiss, welcome his tongue into your mouth and you’re abundantly aware of the fact that Javier is just on the other side of you, that you’re being watched.

Your breathing shallows and it’s like you have a fever you’re so hot, drinking down every bit of attention that’s being lavished on you between Carrillo’s mouth on yours and Javier’s hands, sliding around your middle and squeezing your sides before you feel him crowding further into your personal space. It’s already verging on too much for you, too many things happening at once and not going to stop until you’re boiled down to a creature of lust and sensation and nothing else.

Carrillo keeps one hand in your hair while he eats at your mouth, keeping you in place for him while his other drops to your thigh, palming it before he slides his hand down to your knee and holds, stopping you from creating any friction for yourself before you could even try. You whine and Javier’s even closer than before, covering your neck with kisses now and his mustache tickles enough to have you trying to recoil from it, chills sweeping throughout your body and his chuckle dark in your ears.

Carrillo’s teeth drag over your bottom lip at the same time Javier starts to unbutton the rest of your shirt, his hand deft and seeking as it slips underneath the fabric, his other mirroring Carrillo with the way it grips the meat of your thigh. You whine, trying to grasp Javier’s shirt in an effort to ground yourself or to pull him closer you aren’t entirely sure because all you know is their hands on you and the ache that’s burning you up inside, the taste of the alcohol on Carrillo’s tongue as it sweeps through your mouth.

Your shirt flutters to the floor in a soft heap and Javier’s attention stays on your chest for what feels like ages, palming your breasts through your bra while Carrillo’s head dips, mouthing along your jawline and down your throat, and in that moment you want nothing more than to feel his teeth. To have him suck marks into the fragile skin that you can look at in the morning to make sure this isn’t some fever dream brought on by the heat and frustration because you feel like you’re being melted down between the two of them and reshaped into something new, something hungry and aching and empty.

A hand trails from your chest and down your stomach while teeth scrape along your neck, your shoulder, and you almost hold your breath when you feel the button of your jeans being fiddled with. A whine builds in your throat, a sharp sound undercutting it and sending a jolt through your body when the Colonel smacks Javier’s hand away before he could slip it inside your pants. Your eyes flutter open for the first time since this all started, just in time to see the way Carrillo’s jaw clenches, hostility or just plain competitiveness you can’t be sure belying the heat in his eyes as he glares at the other man.

It shouldn’t turn you on— you know it shouldn’t, having him snapping over you like that, like you’re a new favorite toy he’s loathe to hand over but you can’t deny the way you squirmed, either, heat curling in your gut at the thunderous look on his face. And then Javier is huffing and for one insane moment you’re afraid that he’s going to give up without a fight, that he’s going to stop.

But then he’s turning your head towards him, wrenching you away from Carrillo so your chest is pressed against his own and he can have his fill of your lips. His kiss is different from Carrillo’s— the bristles of his mustache tickle and it’s less like an onslaught but no less heated, his groan sinking right down into your bones.

Carrillo’s fingers make quick work of your jeans and you almost leap out of your skin at the first touch, thick fingers slipping underneath the band of your underwear and dragging through your soaked folds.

You moan into Javier’s mouth, the sound ripped from the back of your throat and you hear one of them chuckle— self satisfied and almost mocking and you want to snap at them and call them names, want to regain the edge you maintain so carefully in this line of work but you can’t. You can’t because Javier’s teeth are scraping along your jawline now and his hand is working its way underneath your bra to start thumbing over your nipple, the edge of his nail against the sensitive skin making a chill skate through your body and Carrillo— he’s— he’s rolling the rough pads of his fingers over your clit, using enough pressure to make your thighs jerk and the insults wither on your tongue.

Then it’s your hands that are moving, unclenching from their shoulders to follow the lines of their torsos down, down, down and the scrape of chairs across the floor is loud and disjointed as they’re yanked closer. Half of you wants to take your time, to explore the both of them at your leisure and finally have your fill of each, to run your hands along their bodies and kiss each of their scars but the other half of you is louder. The other half of you is greedy. Impatient.

You smooth your palms along the front of their pants, reveling in the feel of their cocks twitching through the fabric and how Javier’s breath hisses through his teeth, how Carrillo drops his head to your shoulder and squeezes the inside of your knee, his fingers stuttering against you. It’s heady, knowing that they both want you like this and holding evidence of their arousal in your hands and you can’t help but stroke them, biting down on a grin when a moan works itself from Carrillo’s chest.

Javier recovers first and pulls you until your body is fully facing him, hunching over you with his fingers working at the closure of your bra, mouth trailing down your throat. Carrillo huffs behind you but he doesn’t pull you away, not yet. Instead he shifts closer, close enough for you to sag into the solid mass of his chest because his fingers are moving again, slipping lower and teasing your entrance, circling and only barely dipping the tip of one inside. At the same time Javier’s mouth is engulfing one of your nipples and sucking, teeth glancing off of it and you don’t know whose name to moan, writhing between the two of them and trying to get a grip on Javier’s hair.

Your other hand is still over Carrillo’s cock and you squeeze, a whine bursting from your lips because of course the bastard was waiting for that, waiting for just the right moment to slide one of his thick fingers home while Javier laves across your chest, licking and sucking at your tender flesh. “Fuck,” Your voice is high and reedy and you feel like you can’t breathe. It’s the first word you’ve spoken during this entire thing, whatever it is, whatever it’s going to turn into, and you think you feel Carrillo’s lips pull into something sharp that might be a grin against your cheek when he starts to move.

The angle means the heel of his hand is bumping into your clit and his pace is a cruel thing; dark and twisting and somehow it’s too much and not enough all at once and your head is spinning from it. You hear him in your ear, speaking low and soft and his praises are clogging your throat. Encouragements, teasing when he asks you if you want more, can take more because he knows you can, that you want it because you’re good for him, aren’t you? For them?

And Javier is murmuring his agreements against the pillow of your breast, dragging his teeth along your nipple and you think if it’s possible for a human being to go up in flames you would right at this moment, trapped between the two of them with no buffer, with nowhere to go.

“Need more already?” Javier’s voice is thick like honey, almost gloating as he picks his head up from your chest, taking in how it rises and falls in time with your rapid breaths, shining from his mouth underneath the fluorescent lights. His eyes drop lower and he can’t see you, not with Carrillo’s hand in the way and the thick denim of your jeans still biting into your thighs, but he can hear you, slick and obscene with little whimpers falling from your lips like you’re trying to stay quiet because you are. It’s not working, but you’re trying.

“Javi—” Your voice tilts up at the end, high and whining and you don’t know how much more of this you can take. You feel like you’re melting down, burning up from the inside out and you can’t remember if you’ve ever felt like this before. If you’ve ever felt this on edge, coiled up tight and vibrating with this much tension, if it’s because you’ve been wanting each of them for months now, if it’s because they’re both here with you. Both watching you, both stringing you out further and further and pulling you in different directions. Each trying to get their fill of you before the other.

And maybe you’re asking for Javier because Carrillo is cruel, working you with his fingers but never giving you quite enough, working you up and up and up. Like he wants to see how far can push you, if he can make the need swallow you whole. You know he can, that for all your wanting to take him apart piece by piece he can do the same to you, is doing the same to you just as you know Javier will show you more mercy.

Javier reaches for you, curls his hands in your jeans and pulls them down over your knees and maybe he meant to pull them off, to get you naked in the middle of the office but his eyes catch on the way Carrillo’s finger is sinking into you over and over again. The way he gives you another and how you still when he does, your breath stuttering.

You almost don’t feel the way Carrillo hooks his chin over your shoulder to watch for himself because you can’t think over how his fingers feel, thick and heavy and buried up to the knuckle and you whine. You whine because he’s just holding them there, seemingly content to just feel the way your cunt is squeezing around them, the way your thighs are shaking and listening to you crying in his ear.

You hand fists in the material of his pants, your other digging your nails into Javier’s shoulder and you use them for leverage, rolling your hips on Carrillo’s fingers. Someone groans, ragged and strung out and for terrifying seconds you think that they’re going to leave you like this. Leave you to fuck yourself on his fingers without any help.

But Javier doesn’t last that long.

Javier doesn’t last that long before he’s reaching for you all over again, pulling you away from Carrillo and you almost protest, almost call him a bastard for cutting off what little stimulation you’re managing to eek out for yourself but then he’s pressing you up against the desk and you forgive him.

You try to brace yourself on the desk, hands slipping on file folders and you look back, over your shoulder because you can hear his belt jangling, loud against the background of hurried breathing and arousal-softened voices. You don’t see it but Carrillo leans back in his chair, sucking your slick off his fingers and thinking about eating you alive even while he watches Javier line himself up with your weeping cunt, the way his head leans back as he pushes in, the way you go still. The way your chin drops to your chest and how you rock your weight onto your hands, spine curving when his hips meet yours.

Javier isn’t moving, not yet, and Carrillo almost feels sorry for you because another of those whines is falling out of your mouth, soft and needy and you lick your lips before you speak, begging him to move and so he does. They both do.

Javier’s hands curl around your hips and he starts to thrust as Carrillo stands, rounding the desk and his lips might pull into something crueler than a smile but pleased nonetheless when you reach for him, a moan on your lips. He lets you fumble with his belt and untuck his shirt with shaking hands and his chest swells with a twisted pride, that you can be filled with another man’s cock and still reach for him.

It goes to his head a little bit while he watches you, glassy eyes fluttering and your hands slipping. Your head drops to his shoulder with a high pitched moan, your hips rolling back, and that’s when he grabs your face, his fingers pressing into your jaw, lifting your head and forcing you to look at him.

It’s too much, you realize, trying to remember how to breathe while you stare into Carrillo’s face. His nostrils are flared and his eyes are swallowed up by his pupils, and he’s not looking away. Your breath is puffing into his face and you’re trying to keep your eyes open, you are— but Javier’s cock keeps dragging through your walls, catching on something bright and sharp and it’s almost enough.

You don’t realize that you keep closing your eyes until Carrillo is almost throttling you, tightening his fingers on either side of your jaw, the meat of his palm pressing against your windpipe and tomorrow you’ll feel embarrassed at the pathetic sound that leaves your throat. How you sway towards him, his "look at me” ringing in your ears, soft and biting all at once.

Javier hunches over you then and you feel his teeth in your shoulder, feel the rasp of his mustache on your skin. Carrillo’s shoulders move but you don’t look, don’t let yourself get distracted from the way he’s looking at you like— like—

You don’t know because Javier’s hand is moving, slapping Carrillo’s away before he can touch you and you see the muscle in his jaw tick before you crumple, would have spilled across the desk if his grip wasn’t holding you up because Javier is slipping his hand between your shaking thighs.

Your hands fist in the material of Carrillo’s shirt, your quest to get his belt undone long since falling by the wayside and being replaced by focusing on the way your nerve endings are lighting up under Javier’s fingers, buzzing and firing and the knot in your belly bursts, thick and sweet like syrup. You sob into Carrillo’s shoulder, bearing down on Javier’s cock and he groans behind you, ragged and grating.

But he doesn’t let you enjoy it, not really. Because the next moment he’s pulling away from you and you feel so empty you could almost cry, shaking yourself apart against Carrillo’s chest, dense and warm and the part of your brain that’s still functioning wishes you could feel his skin on your own. You don’t get the chance to dwell on it, on Carrillo’s hands and his arms, the feel of his torso through his shirt because the next thing you know liquid is splashing across your lower back, hot and dripping and you shudder right down to your bones.

“Fuck,” Javier sounds as wrecked as you feel and you can hear him pant, the air whistling over his teeth but the ache between your thighs isn’t fading away. If anything it’s getting worse as you try to pull yourself back together, trembling against Carrillo’s body because you don’t necessarily trust yourself to stand on your own quite yet and apparently neither does Javier, rolling his forehead on the space between your shoulder blades.

After a few moments he straightens and you feel his eyes on you as clearly as you do his hand, stroking down your side and squeezing your hip. He starts digging through the desk then, opening and shutting drawers until he finds what he’s looking for, wiping his cum from your skin with what you assume to be an extra shirt Carrillo keeps in his desk, always prepared.

Your fingers unclench from the shirt he’s wearing, sliding over his stomach to pull on his belt because you aren’t satisfied, won’t be until you know what it feels like to make him fall apart right along with you. You mouth at his neck, slipping your palm into the front of his khakis after you conquer the buckle and zipper.

“You’re breaking my heart, baby,” Javier sits back in one of the abandoned chairs, his voice hoarse and colored with exertion, and if you didn’t know any better you might think he’s serious, that his feelings are well and truly bruising with your efforts to get in Carrillo’s pants, still greedy for more after he had his turn with you.

“Fuck off, Javier,” You say it without any real venom against Carrillo’s skin and the other man might have barked out a chuckle, bared in his teeth in something that might have been a grin, but the only thing you can focus on is the way Carrillo groans when you close your fingers around his cock and stroke. You want to hear it again and again, want to have it vibrate through you while he’s pressed impossibly close.

He’s a sight as he pulls himself away from you, his uniform shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, unbuttoned now and his undershirt wrinkled from your fingers, his jaw set and you have to turn, all loose limbed and soft as you seat yourself on the desk, able to finally peel your jeans the rest of the way off and spreading your thighs in blatant invitation. He takes it, slotting his hips between your knees and wrenching you to him and you’re able to wind your arms around his wide shoulders like you’ve been craving to.

You rub yourself against him, your breath catching in your throat from how your sensitized cunt slips across the coarse fabric and it almost hurts, sharp and corrosive in the way it floods through you, dissolving in its wake. But you can’t stop, chasing after the pleasure with a whining moan because he’s just watching you, eyeing the slowly growing wet spot on the front of his underwear because of it and you squeeze your thighs around him, trying to spur him on.

"Horacio,” The name slips out unbidden, tinged with something you can’t describe and it’s the magic word. He huffs as if he’s coming back to himself, as if he’s realized that he can move, that you really do want this despite the circumstances. Despite Javier watching with rapt attention and a fresh cigarette.

He doesn’t make you let go of him, doesn’t make you pull him out because you’re clinging to him so sweet and nice and purring for him that he can’t imagine it and you’re grateful. Actually grateful that you can keep yourself wound around him, touching and tasting like you’ve thought about for months now, raking your fingers through his short hair and arching against him until you’re balancing on the very edge of the desk, his arms the only things keeping you from slipping right off.

And then you’re being split open.

You warble something that might have been his name, choking on it and you scramble at his shoulders for a better grip. He groans deep in his chest, rough and filthy as his head drops to your neck and it’s overwhelming. You want to blame it on the fact you’ve already cum, that you’re still overly sensitive from Javier because he’s making you feel better than he has any right to as harsh as he is, as stone faced. As mean.

But then his hand is slipping between your thrusting bodies and he’s anything but, unerringly finding your clit and it’s almost embarrassing. It’s almost embarrassing how hard your body jerks, grinding into his calloused fingers while he breaks you apart, your cunt pulsing around him as he keeps up the onslaught, hips snapping into yours.

You cling to him, fingers digging into his shoulders, his back, as the pleasure sweeps through you, glimmering and razor sharp and you say his name again, only this time mewling and shattered. And it’s the combination of everything that does him in; your cunt fluttering around his cock, your voice in his ear saying his name like that, you trying to pull him infinitely closer. He grunts as he spills himself within you, the sound strangled and you can’t help but gather his face in your hands to pull it to your own, slanting your lips against his and drinking it down.

Your thighs are quivering as you pant into each other’s mouths, Carrillo almost languidly stirring his cock in you as you both come down. You didn’t expect it— didn’t expect any of this to actually come to fruition, to exist somewhere outside of your mind and the four walls of your bedroom but here you are. The smoke from Javier’s cigarette hangs in the air and Carrillo— Horacio, now, is nosing underneath your jaw, staying right where he is and kissing the salt from your skin. If an ache wasn’t blooming between your legs, in your thighs and your hips you don’t know if you’d believe it happened at all, letting the memories turn hazy in the sunlight that’s only a few short hours away.

But it is and when you blink your eyes open you see Javier looking at you with an unreadable expression, flicking his eyes to Horacio and back again and a different heat starts to suffuse your body, this one prickling and bordering on uncomfortable. That’s when you unlock your ankles from behind Horacio’s back, your heart slipping into a nervous rhythm and you don’t want to press your palms into his shoulders and apply pressure, telling him to move without so many words but you do because you can’t take it.

Can’t take the way Javier is looking at you, can’t take how much you want Horacio to stay, to wonder and find out if he stays as gentle as this when the fog clears from his head.

You can’t take the way he’s looking at you either as he shifts, following the directive of your hands and you swallow the gasp that tries to burst from your mouth when his cock slips from you. You weren’t expecting this either, how bereft you feel without him filling you up, without him in your arms if you’re being honest with yourself. You can’t even blame it on the alcohol, not really. None of you had drank that much, the bottle still not empty after being passed between the three of you and now on its side, knocked over at some point from your combined haste but miraculously unbroken as it lays there on the corner of the desk, liquid pooling on the linoleum below.

Javier is the one who sees it first and throws Horacio’s crumpled, used shirt on the caustic puddle while you’re pulling your jeans up, dressing as if your clothes could become your shield from the emotions that are trying to flay you alive.

“Are you okay?” It’s Horacio who asks how you are while you button your blouse, his voice gruff and threaded with something that’s going to haunt you.

“I’m good, I promise,” You try for a light smile, like you’re not turned inside out, like you won’t keep thinking about this for the rest of the night and maybe into the day when you have to pretend like everything is fine, that nothing has changed.

Javier throws the shirt onto the desk then and it hits with a wet plop that makes you cringe. You see Horacio’s mouth thin, any traces of the softness from just moments ago bleeding away and you want it back.

But it will have to wait for another time, maybe a better time or none at all because Javier is crushing the end of his cigarette into an ashtray and picking his leather jacket off the back of a chair, looking at you expectantly because he knows you can’t refuse him, not without revealing anything. “Ready to go?” And maybe Horacio has some inkling about the arrangement, gleaned from comments that have piled up over the weeks and months but maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he thinks you’re going home with the agent, not bumming a ride to the same apartment building because you were naïve and are now complacent.

You nod, looking again at Horacio and running your eyes over him, as if you don’t want to forget how he looks in this moment despite everything. His uniform a mess, cock tucked back into his pants but his belt staying unbuckled for the moment and for one second, one harebrained second, you think about kissing him. Just kissing him, just a peck— just enough for him to maybe know.

But you don’t.

“Goodnight, Horacio,” Your lips wrap around the syllables, turning his name into something gentle as you drift towards the door after Javier.

The Colonel nods and you think you might see his lips part but the shadows make it impossible to tell and you don’t know what’s in his eyes either, just know that they feel heavy on your skin. Javier calls your name and you finally look away before you do something even more stupid than anything else you’d done tonight.

The door closes behind you and he knows you can’t hear him but he says it anyways, alone and looking at the door like you’re going to walk back in.

“Goodnight.”

#javier pena x reader #horacio carrillo x reader #javier pena x reader x horacio carrillo #javier pena x you #narcos smut #narcos fic #horacio carrillo x you #if you listen closely you can hear my hs english teacher screaming at all the run on sentences

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ktheist · 4 years

Text

2 | exclusives only.

final installment to the to my dear friend series.

prompt.“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.” (x)

muses. jungkook x reader

genre. university au. fwb. f2l.

words. 8.9k

first installment. friend in me.

warnings. implied smut, mentions of name calling

synopsis. the goody-two-shoes. the girl who always sits in one of the front rows in class. that girl that has literal models as friends while she comes to classes in sweats.

you identify with all of these.

but what you don’t ever want to be known as, is that freaky girl who had sex at a semi-public place, in the back room of the student lounge with the most drool-worthy man at the faculty.

and that’s exactly what kim namjoon, your ex-boyfriend, manifested when he publicly announced to everyone from your faculty of your oh-so-sweet time together, “come on, ___, everyone wants to know if you begged me to be your first and how we fucked in the back room of the student lounge.”

the moment jeon jungkook’s name which you have saved as koo, flashes across the screen - time stops. so does your heart as you meet taehyung’s eyes which were just fixed on your phone before you flip it over and press the stickers engraved case with the your hand as though afraid he might be able to see through the aluminum and read the text jungkook sent you.

which is just-

koo: heyy

“um, excuse me,” jisoo, having been more focused on the group you lowly pointed out to be stealing glances your way and unlike you, she’s in the middle of raising her hand with an index finger pointing upwards, deep maroon lips pursed in annoyance as the group begins to whisper amongst them and looking back at your table as though in disbelief that someone would actually call them out, “yes, you guys - especially the girl with the fake channel jacket - ever heard of minding your damn business?”

“jisoo,” you hiss, yanking her hand back down and slamming it against the table, “i don’t care, they can say whatever they-“

“at least have the decency to be original if you wanna shit talk someone,” lisa speaks over you, as though she can’t hear your protest.

“taehyung, stop them,” you lean over the table in a hushed whisper, catching the man’s blank gaze whilst he slurps on his smoothie as though he sees nothing wrong with the whole setting. and it’s definitely not the nasty bruise around his eyes that’s impairing his vision - nor judgement for that matter.

“what?” he chirps, willfully unaware of the tension in the air.

“oh god,” you finally slump into your seat, head lowered in an attempt to let your tresses fall over your face and cover it as you pretend to rub the temple of your head, hoping - wishing a hole would open and up and swallow you right here and now.

hurried footsteps of the group trying to pretend like they’re not in a rush pass behind you. words like, “rude much?”, “ugh, we don’t even care”, “attention whore.” among other things echoing in murmurs into the air before the tranquil blanket of silence settles back over the vicinity.

lisa’s glare of death takes on a much cheerful light as she grins at the older girl as they high five over the table.

“guys, thanks but you didn’t have to do that,” is the first thing you say after you lift your head, a half-hearted smile on your lips, “i don’t really care and quite honestly they have every right to be here as much as we do.”

“sweetie, the fact that you were laughing with us just a minute ago and stopped all of a sudden means you do care,” jisoo says pointedly, deep maroon lips pursed together in a ‘don’t lie to me’ manner and once she sees your lips clamping together and possibly said lie getting swallowed into your throat, she continues, “- and that’s completely valid. they should’ve know to keep their mouths shut if they wanna eat here too.”

“okay, maybe i do care but i can’t stop them from stealing glances or pointing me out to anyone who doesn’t know me or doesn’t know how i look which i’m sure is just meh,” before lisa could interject, you hold up a finger, “i know i can look pretty at times,” you offer an assuring smile before sighing at your next words, “but honestly, at this point, i can literally hear the ‘that’s the girl that tricked namjoon into dating her last year’ everywhere i go and i’m kind of used it.”

“but you didn’t trick him and he started it first,” taehyung doesn’t exactly slam the cup onto the table but he doesn’t gently set it down either and the sound is audible enough the little corner you’ve booked for yourselves.

“does it matter? that’s what word has it around here anyway,” shrugging, you take a spoonful of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.

“it sucks,” jimin, ever the listener and the one person who’s never put his phone down until now, finally speaks the word of the day - not a particularly profound one but they fit the situation, “but i mean, this’ll all blow over in a month.”

almost as though they share the same wavelength, lisa and jisoo begin grumbling out protests

“ugh, jimin.” lisa narrows her eyes at him, face contorted in disgust while jisoo gasps, wide-eyed, “park jimin, i raised you better than this.”

“what?” the man in question - questions, crescent eyes turning into a pair of full moons, shining with utter confusion as he looks he repeats the same word over an over again with increasing remorse, “no- seriously, what did i say?”

“it’s easy for you,” jeongyeon chirps from next to you, perfect nude acrylics gleaming mutedly as she holds a fry she stole from his plate in the air, “you’re a guy,” and only then she pops the fry into her mouth.

“where did she come from?” a frown etches itself onto taehyung’s face as he stares at the newcomer as though she grew another head.

“unless jeongyeon has witchery powers then my best bet is through the door,” shrugging, you pick up the vapor dotted cup, the sound of ice clicking against each other as you twirl the straw around gets drowned by the series of agreement from the two girls.

“what does that even mean?” with hair mussed from and eyes almost as wide as a mad man in search for the truth - the only thing he’s missing is an overgrown unkept beard - jimin’s raised voice brings you back to the issue at hand, spurred by jeongyeon’s ominously vague prophecy.

“it means,” you set the cup down after sipping on the chocolatey goodness , “guys get worshipped like some sex god when their body counts get exposed and people will be lining up to get laid by him but when it’s a girl who gets her, for once, healthy sex life and keeps to one partner like me gets ‘exposed,’” hands raised, you curl your index and middle fingers inwards in an indicative nature, “let’s just say it doesn’t really help me climb up the social ladder.”

shrugging, you continue, “like yeah, maybe it’ll blow over like you said and our friends probably don’t care - they’re treating me the same but i can see our mutual friends becoming distant even though they don’t show but just this morning i went up to jennie kim was the to ask about the thing we have to do for a group project and i can kinda see it in her eyes. she sees me as that girl who begged kim namjoon to have sex with her, dumped him and got with the next cute guy of the century. and that impression of me is always gonna keep lurking in the back of everyone’s minds whether they do it consciously or not.”

a pause lapses in between you, not quite as profound as jimin’s jaw-drop is making it to be but maybe it is for him. the others continue to munch on their fries and jeongyeon just stole jimin’s drink, opened the cap and took a sip instead of using the straw, murmuring something about not taking any chances because ‘don’t know where his mouth’s been.’

it’s several heartbeats until jimin recovers from the load of information before he lets out an-

“oh.”

“yeah,” lisa nods, shooting him a ‘now you know’ look before turning to you with a pointed expression as though she’s ready to move on to a more pressing topic which was absurd because what else could be more pressing than your mid college term crisis-

“and you should say what you said just now to jungkook instead of ghosting him”

-except the fact that you thought you were subtle enough in flipping your phone’s screen upside down and pretending like you were listening to whatever whoever was speaking.

all of a sudden, the heat of five pairs of eyes are on you. but those who are truly stricken by the news are jimin and jeongyeon, the latter’s gaze being unavoidable because she’s sitting smack dab right next to you, “wait,” a tense pause wedges its way in the miniature space between you and her, “you’re ghosting jeon jungkook?”

“i-i just-“ there’s something in the way her tone rises at his name and the sheer absurdity of it all that makes your heart wrench in guilt and discomfort, “i’m not gonna ghost him for forever-“

“you should though.” taehyung waves a fry in your face before popping it into his mouth.

“-i just need time to like, process everything. i mean, it happened just yesterday,” by the end of your attempt to explain yourself, you can feel your shoulder line falling as you sigh, back leaned against the chair, the fries no longer looking appetizing.

“it’s partly his fault for flaunting out your sex lives to the entire world,” taehyung points out.

“shut it, tae,” jisoo hisses before turning to you, “take all the time you need, sweetie,” she rests her cheek on your shoulder as she side hugs you, probably finally comprehending the level of confusion and frustration all at once that forbids you from texting jungkook back the moment he texted you which was just minutes after the car disappears around the intersection and his figure disappear from sight last night.

the moment jeongyeon stepped through the crowd and stopped next to you with the clack of her boots and the sheer ‘oh honey, you’re not ready for that talk,’ nature, you decided right then and there, if jeongyeon asked you to shave off your hair and hand it over in a tray, you would in a heartbeat.

“since ____ didn’t wanna say anything, i figured she did get you to sleep with her but felt bad about it,” the hand she kept tucked under her arm falls away to reveal the hundred bucks she’s holding in your face.

by then, you had a hunch of what she was planning in that wonderful head of hers but the weight of the tens of pairs of eyes had made you wary. it was jeongyeon’s plan, all you had to do was just run with it, not run it.

wordlessly, you took the folded note, smoothed the cripple out of it as best as you could before folding it in two and tucking it into your bra. the bouts of gasps that broke out was what gave you the push to meet namjoon’s gaze with a blank one and shrug, “what? i went through all the trouble to get you to sleep with me and put up with dating you for six months - i should at least get my pay,” murmurs echo through out the room as well as several ‘ooh’s at the revelation.

the man’s face had turned several shades darker. eyes trained on you like you were all he sees. like a predator to his prey. once upon a time, you might have found the way he was so rapt with something heartfluttering - attractive even as you sat at the bleachers, cheering on your secret boyfriend whilst he instructed his team through the mic. circuit breaker had never came out anything but victorious when kim namjoon was that focused.

if only looks could kill, you’d be dead.

“that’s right, it was just a bet we made in first year,” jeongyeon’s tilted crimson smirk had been tucked with something like wicked humor as her shoulder line jolted with her laughter.

first year, you were that lost kid who bent over backwards to be everyone’s friends and ended with none. namjoon knew that, like how he knew this was all a lie and yet perhaps that was why you could almost picture the brood of clouds looming over his head. the same look that would settle over his face as he shifted through courses of action to take for that one possible outcome that lead to circuit breaker’s victory.

your heartbeat stuttered when he began to stand straighter, arms crossed over muscled chest. his naturally tall stature had allowed him to look down on you like gum under his shoe, “quite pathetic that she had to beg to win a bet.”

the ground opening up and swallowing you whole right then and there had remained but a wishful thinking. the seconds seemed to stretch on for hours on end with gazes burning right through your skull. you could almost hear the ghostly whispers of “oh my god,” “who does she think she is?” “what a slut.”

“wasn’t that like a year ago?” somewhere from your other side, a snicker hit the air like a mockery and a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a familiar scent of lemongrass and musk. how your own arm went around his to side hug his waist had been a surprise to you too, the action was as natural as breathing.

“i mean,” jungkook drawled with a shrug, “kinda sad that you’re still hung up over a girl but i get it - i know how amazing ____ is,” with a slight lean towards the older man, the low murmur couldn’t have been any louder, “we did it on the side of the street once,” a gasp from the ever loyal audience, “the balcony,” another gasp, “under a bridge,” there isn’t any more gasps - the audience must have ran out of responses, “in the changing room,” just when you thought he was going to spell out every single spot you had sex at on the list, jungkook finally laughed, “honestly any place you can think of - but yeah, keep dreaming about the back room of the student lounge cause that’s probably the most adventurous a dude like you would ever be.”

the shock painted over jimin’s jaw drop, jisoo’s eyes glancing from left to right, jeongyeon’s pursed lips and muted whistle didn’t exactly go past you. but you were more focused on the way the man in front of you, the one you thought you gave everything to, was the one speechless between the two of you.

the smile you wore was a lazy one but the words you threw back at him didn’t bloom in your chest with satisfaction of retribution the way you thought they would, “get over it, namjoon.”

in hindsight, you should’ve known it would come back and bite your ass. but you didn’t think the reaction would be this immediate. by monday morning, you were already getting strange looks and one not-so-pleasant experience of hearing snide laughter as you passed a group of students with the faintest but clearest, “what a whore.”

by noon, your reputation was pretty much set in stones - though your closest friend circle tried to convince you that it wasn’t as bad as it seems. that was, until another group of students walked into the cafe and most of them kept glancing at you like you’re some wild animal in a zoo.

“oh!” you could almost see a light bulb going off on jeongyeon’s head - as though a thought just crossed her, “i forgot what i came here for but anyway, i got tea!”

“girl,” lisa raises her brows with an obvious ‘what-are-you-waiting-for’ smile, “spill.”

and from the way way everyone else is quiet but focused on the woman, including you, it’s safe to say lisa’s words spoke for all of you. knowing that she holds the sole attention of the people at the table, jeongyeon smirks playfully, “guess what?”

“what?” taehyung says plainly.

“you’re supposed to guess, idiot,” she rolls her eyes but recovers from the brunette’s lack of effort as she basically bounces in her seat like a ball of excitement, “kim namjoon got kicked out of circuit breaker! the dean himself had a ‘little word’ with him. just. now.”

it would have come off as a pleasant news - cheer-worthy even. if not for one simple fact: that the dean is none other than jimin’s mother.

“oh my fucking god, yes!” lisa yelps, while jisoo extends her arms across the aforementioned woman to reach for the giggling man on her other side, “come here, let me hug you park jimin!” since it’s a round table, it makes the notion of hugs more plausible but since lisa is sitting between them, she ends up sandwiched with jisoo’s arms around her and jimin leaning into her in order to let the rest of jisoo’s arms encase around his neck.

“to be fair, he got kicked out because he and tae got in a fight,” the bleach blond man chuckles, “so tae’s punishment is being professor yoon’s unpaid assistant.” the position doesn’t seem ideal but the three doesn’t seem to mind - they look like they enjoy it.

“it was worth it,” taehyung shrugs when he catches your eyes, knowing full well the wave of guilt that rushes through you so instead, you mouth him a ‘i owe you one.’

by the time lunch ends (for you and jimin at least since the others seem to have another free hour before their classes start), you find yourself taking up jimin’s offer to sit with him at the back instead of the fifth row from the front that was just perfect for a not-so-serious-but-not-so-laxed-student vibe.

“hey, jimin - thanks,” you say in between the class filling up and him texting someone on his phone which he puts down on the table after your words of gratitude fill the air, “for talking to your mom for me.”

“that’s the least i can do,” he fixes you with a half-hearted smile - probably wishing he’d be able to throw a punch where it was needed but you know park jimin wouldn’t be park jimin if he wasn’t this adorable, good natured person with the kindest heart that could barely hurt a fly let alone a person. even if that person is a douchebag like namjoon, “‘sides, mom’s always preaching about equality for both genders and kim basically sexually harassed you, i’m sorry i couldn’t stand up for you like tae-“

“no, don’t say that,” you frown, hands tugging on his biceps. slipping your around the aforementioned biceps, you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the rising tension of your pursed lips, “everyone has their own friendship language - and finding a peaceful way to get back to someone who hurt your friend, is yours. so thank you for being you,” you pause just for the briefest moment when you accidentally meet the eyes of one of your friends - the flash in their eyes projecting their not-so-friendly thoughts at the sight of you, “thanks for being my friend, jimin.”

something soft bumps the top of your head as you feel his neck crane briefly, “thanks for being my friend too- jisoo would beat your ass for saying this though.”

at the mention of the spirited friend of yours, you both break out into fits of giggles. “jisoo would probably buy chicken tie my to a chair while dangling a drumstick until i promise to stop saying ‘weird things.’”

by ‘weird things’ it meant thanking them or even projecting any form of gratitude which shouldn’t even be a thing to be grateful for because, as she would aggressively yet lovingly insist, and as jimin acts out, “she’d probably be ‘it’s obvious we’d be friends because you’re the baddest bitch - girl, you’re that bitch.’”

it’s even funnier when he tries to mimic her way of speech and tone. for a moment, as you continue to narrate what your two other best friends would have done in the setting, both of you laughing into each other’s faces, the watchful eyes don’t seem all that intimidating.

throughout the evening, you spend it with your friends. watching movies and sleeping over at jimin’s - since he’s the only one who owns an apartment and doesn’t have a cranky roommate, going to class with yesterday’s jeans and jimin’s stolen hoodies to which he looked slightly perturbed at the realization that that’s three hoodies he probably wouldn’t get back even though you promised to wash it and give it back. but he the matter seems to fly out the window once you stopped by mcdonald’s for breakfast.

you may or may not have neglected pending projects group work but your friends didn’t seem to care -jisoo and jimin were rushing to group meetings this morning but after lisa’s five minute therapy-esque session for you to stop apologizing for inconveniencing them when you thought they must have (they did) pushed back on a lot of plans just to spend time with you and make sure you’re okay, you’d finally turned the ‘sorry’s to ‘thank you’s.

it was some time when you were walking to a class you shared with taehyung, that his looming frame easily catches what exactly you’re doing on your phone and begrudgingly points out, “ugh, you’re still texting him? after promising you’ll choose yourself first?”

to be fair, it was a short and sweet text saying ‘hey, i’m fine. sorry i didn’t reply to your texts, just have a lot going on atm’ without any emojis but also no period at the end because you didn’t want to seem like you’re mad. but besides that, you’re not entirely sure what exactly you feel for jungkook because like taehyung said-

“he‘s a different kind of asshole,” his tone was light but if there’s anything a whole year of knowing kim taehyung did, it was catching onto the way his voice strains and his avoidance to look at you as he speaks, “does he even know what he did to you? what you’re going through right now?”

it was true that the after effect of jungkook listing out the places you both had sex at has finally come to bite you in the ass. but-

“nobody would’ve thought the things jungkook said would backfire like this,” and yet you tug on the sleeves of jimin’s hoodie, voice small.

the man’s abrupt stop forces you to stop too, leaving you no choice but to meet his frowning face, “everyone knows what stuff like that’ll do more to girls than guys.”

it’s the pause that you took. the hesitance that taehyung must’ve seen shining brighter than your reputation allows it.

“you know what- do whatever you want,” and with that he leaves you on the side of the corridor to stare at his broad back as he walks away.

there’s no way you’ll go up and sit with him at the back like you did with jimin. but it wasn’t the empty spots next to you that made your heart clench - it was the way he deliberately turned away from you when your eyes met as you entered and he took a seat.

it’s some time after the professor left the class, whilst your phone vibrates rapidly with onslaught of messages, do you finally pick it up with one goal in mind.

koo: oh okay

koo: hope you’re doing okay

koo: i’m here if you wanna talk

he hasn’t finished typing when you tap out a simple ‘sorry’ and switching to-

you: thank you really but i think it’s better if we don’t text anymore

only to see another blue bubble pop on the screen at the same time as yours.

koo: i miss you

by the end of the very, very, very long day, you’re finally able to throw yourself onto your soft plush bedsheets. your friends don’t know that taehyung’s mad at you and isn’t talking to you - his sporadic off-days being the reason for them to assume that this is one of those days.

and they didn’t really push you to talk either, choosing to give you space after they robbed you off yours by kidnapping you to have a best friend’s night last night.

much to your dismay, not even five minutes into melting into the comforts of your bed, your stomach starts growling like a wild animal that hasn’t been fed in weeks. despite distantly remembering finishing the last pack of ramen last week, you still drag your feet to the kitchen in search for a instant noodles that, after opening the cupboard, you confirm, isn’t there.

and that’s how you end up trudging down the streets with flip flops and hair poking underneath the hood of jimin’s hoodie. a surge of gratification shoots through your veins when you see the last cup of your favorite spicy ramen on the shelf. not bothering to go back, you take a seat at one of the high stools facing the wall-sized window after paying for it.

it takes a few texts and scrolling through instagram before the ramen is ready. but it’s jeongyeon’s panic-induced tone that takes up most of your time.

jeongyeon: ok so ik you’re gonna be mad at me but pls don’t be

you: what issit tho

jeongyeon: you gotta promise 🤙

with a growl of your stomach demanding to be fed, you place your phone down with a misspelled loophole ‘yea i pro mizz 🤙🤙🤙’

and if getting a certification as your faculty’s resident hoe isn’t enough, in that moment, with ramen dangling from your mouth and puffed cheek, your eyes stops on a brunette boy who stops dead in his track when he sees you.

somewhere on the smooth surface of the table, your phone vibrates with a pop up notification.

jeongyeon: ok so jeon jungkook texted me about you and i kinda told him he should ask you himself but then i thought it kinda indicated that something’s wrong

another ping.

jeongyeon: i didn’t tell him anything else tho!!!

“i don’t know what to say - i’m sorry, didn’t think it would be this bad,” jungkook confesses, head hung low, hair hiding most of his face and disallowing you from reading his emotions.

after jeongyeon ominously told jungkook to ask you about why she can’t tell him anything about how you’re doing now, jungkook had rushed to your place because it was obvious that his texts would be left on read, “maybe i should’ve taken it for what it is but i-,” he’d stopped short of what he wanted to say before he’d met your gaze with wishing stars in his eyes, “i just needed to see you and make sure you’re okay.”

“it’s not,” you admit, “most of the time they just look at me like i’m some animal in the zoo but sometimes it still gets to me.”

“you didn’t seem like the person who would care,” he says smally, almost as though it wasn’t meant for you but for himself.

you want to laugh, “that’s cause that’s what half-drunk me is most of the time and you’ve only ever known her - but on campus, i’m that girl who walks in the hallway with her head down and wanna be as invisible as i can... because i hate conflicts and being seen means i’ll most likely get into some shit... like i did with namjoon.”

kim namjoon saw you when no one else paid attention. mostly because the outstanding ones in your batch were taking the spotlight in freshmen year. the positions became apparent a little over two weeks after the first class. and you were still wondering around, in search for like minded beings. instead of finding friends, you found a god.

or so what they call a once in a lifetime genius.

“yea- i don’t really know you,” if it isn’t for the way his head snaps your way and the heartbreaking strain in his voice, you would have had a better time holding out, “i don’t even know what your favorite color is but i promise i’ll never hurt you like he did,” when he meets your gaze, all control seem to seep out of you and all you want is to take everything back

“i’m sorry- i just- it’s stupid, cutting you off just ’cause of that-“ the sound chains of the swing echo into the chilly night air as you prop your elbows on your knee, torso bent forward while you cup your face with your hands, maybe if you rubbed hard enough the stupid will come off, “i know it’s nobody’s fault but then there’s tae and he was the only one who thought i should stop talking to you- but he’s also the most reasonable person in our friend group and i-“ you almost choke on pure air, “i’m sorry.”

and so you end up at a park a few blocks away, you choosing to sit on the swing whilst he leans against the monkey bar a few feet away.

“it’s not okay,” jungkook’s voice fills your ears - he doesn’t sound as mad as you thought he’d be but his words say otherwise.

until you hear the scrape of soles on dirt. and just as you thought he was leaving, a hand lands on your knee, “but i forgive you.”

the smile you see when you peek through your fingers is familiar. boyish like its owner but endearing all the same,“and nothing that makes you feel like your peace is disturbed, is stupid,” but then the smile down turns into a frown, eyebrows knitting together, “i just wish you told me so you didn’t have to go through this alone.”

“i wasn’t alone - i had my friends,” it’s right after the words hit the air and a flash of disappointment crosses jungkook’s eyes, do you belatedly realize that you were indirectly calling him a non-friend.

“right,” the smile he fixes you breaks your heart - even more so when you see how he’s struggling to be happy for you whilst pushing down the hurt in his eyes, “that’s great - it’s great that you weren’t alone.”

or someone outside of your exclusives-only circle. well, he was - he isn’t exactly someone you’d befriend like you would your current friends. but it must have sounded like he was demoted to a friend who you say hi’s to and don’t share personal hardships and happiness with.

“yeah,” you echo in agreement before biting your bottom lip, gaze switching from his hand to his arm and finally his deep brown eyes that appear hazel underneath the light of the lamppost, “can we still be friends?”

the short but straightforward, “no” on jungkook’s part echoes in the air.

it takes a moment for you to register the two-letter word, as if it’s the hardest to fathom and before you know it, your jaw is on the ground, after a surprised, “what-”

in all honesty, you were the one who wanted to cut jungkook off from your life - for an absurd reason at that - but still, with how he patiently listened to you and even forgave you, you thought he’d at least want to stay friends. maybe he doesn’t want to be that kind of friend anymore. or maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend if you’re not that kind of friends anymore. maybe-

“i don’t wanna be just friends,” the confession falls out from his lips when you least expect it. almost as though you weren’t the only one who could read the other like an open book.

but despite his confidence the first time, you still see the traces of hesitance in the way he takes a moment longer to continue, “i... i want to know you- not the drunk you, not the campus you, but you you.”

this time, you can’t control the trickle of laughter that tumbles out of your mouth. it’s dry and a little bit broken, but still comes from a humorous place, “you’re probably gonna be disappointed as hell.”

“is that a yes?” the flash of starlight in jungkook’s eyesmile causes your heart to swell with a sort of fullness. the chains clink into the air as he grips it with his hands, using them to hoist himself up - but he doesn’t stand straight. instead,he leans his forehead on yours, “say yes.”

the smile that slips on your face is involuntary. completely out of your control as you affirm, “it’s a yes.”

“so is that tae’s hoodie?” jungkook asks as you walk down the street to your apartment.

the “what?” that slips out of your mouth is more surprised than anything else but it seems like that’s what made the man rush out his explanation - which he didn’t really need to but you appreciate it anyway.

“it’s just- you’re not a hoodie girl,” you don’t miss the way he scrunches his nose as he struggles to find the proper words, you think it’s cute - you think jungkook’s cute, “you’re more like a sweaters girl - or like, that’s what i see you wear in the morning before you kick me out.”

chuckling, you relieve him of his curiosity with a “no, it’s not tae’s.”

he beams at you like a morning sun until you add, “it’s jimin’s.”

“o-oh,” he nods but doesn’t press on.

“he’s also one of my best friend - they dragged me to movie’s night and we crashed at jimin’s last night,” you say.

“oh.” the pearly whites peek from underneath his lips again, eyes lighting up like stars.

but then, before you know it, you’re standing at the entrance of your apartment.

“thanks for walking me home,” on your part, you don’t really want to part.

“yeah, no problem,” if you didn’t know any better, jungkook’s foot scuffling against the dirt doesn’t really give off a willing farewell vibe either.

until you both blurt out at the same time-

“do you wanna come in?”

“i mean it when i said i missed you.”

an echoing silence settles between you for the longest moment - or in fact, just a second too long but with all that’s happened and the friendships you can see breaking, jeon jungkook’s is one you’re not going to let go that easily.

not again.

“come inside,” you say.

and this time, you’re not asking.

jungkook’s breath is hot against your neck as you groan from the impact of your back and head hitting the door as soon as it closes, his hands under your thighs.

but you’re fast to recover, hands snaking up his chest until they reach his strained jawline, tilting his head and forcing him to look at you, “show me how much you missed me.”

a familiar glint flashes across his eyes at your challenge before his gaze falls to the borrowed deep blue hoodie you have on, “take that off. now.”

deciding against taunting him some more, you pull the piece of clothing over your head before dropping it next to the can of beer, snacks and energy bars you bought from the convenience store.

it doesn’t take much for you to lean into him enough not to let yourself topple over backwards - maybe it’s the hundreds of times he’s carried you like this, maybe he’s the only person you trust to grab you by the bottom of your ass and you’d instantly know where to wrap your legs around.

or maybe, just maybe, you missed jungkook too.

but either way, you kiss him once after he slams you against your bed. you kiss him a few more times as he slides in and out of you like every crevice of your core is made for him. you’re in the middle of kissing him when he hits ghat sweet spot that gets you moaning mid-kiss. he doesn’t seem to mind as he bites your bottom lips, letting you ride your high whilst he dedicates himself to you. to your pleasure.

and you kiss him when he thrusts deep into you as you both reach a different kind of euphoria together, holding each other tightly as if the other would fade if you didn’t.

since your bed is a single bed and you were occupying most of it, you have to scoot to make space for an extra person. you let him have the pillow while you keep your head raised midair until he slips his arm under it, his other hand pulling your back against his front before he pulls the cover over you.

the digits in the corner of your phone tells you that you’re probably going to end up rushing to your 8 am tomorrow but at the moment, with the moonlight pouring through the window and a distant sound of cars in the main street filling the room, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here.

“it’s orange - my favorite color is orange, like the sunset,” you’re pretty sure your voice is half-slurred from the fatigue of the day creeping up to you, but jungkook surprisingly heard it right because-

“we should go sunset watching someday,” he suggests.

“mhm,” you hum, not opposed of that idea at all, “what’s your...” you drag out, shifting through words until you find the one you’re most curious about, “favorite dessert?”

“besides you?” he chuckles when you let out an involuntary gasp at his insinuation before humming in contemplation, “ice creams.”

“are you free this sunday?” you ask.

“yeah, why?” his voice is laced with a hint of wonder.

“let’s go to an ice cream parlor,” by now, you’re pretty sure he barely understands what you’re saying as your eyes begin to droop, “let’s do things people do outside of parties - i wanna get to know you, koo.”

for the longest moment, you thought it’s him that’s fallen asleep because of the lack of affirmation.

that is, until he murmurs with the smallest voice, “yeah, i’d like that.”

you wake up to the sound of your daily alarm blaring across the room. but much to your dismay, when you slip your hand under the pillow - which unnaturally becomes a texture of spiky but fluffy treads - you come to a morbid realization that isn’t there.

which means wherever your gosh darn phone is, you’re going to have to find it to hit the snooze button because you can’t sleep with that deafening noise but if you do get up, you won’t be able to fall back asleep.

that is, until a different kind of sound, one that knows your name, grumble out a, “___, turn that shit off,” while a hand band around your waist, pulling you into a whole body.

for the briefest moment, you forget about the sound, heart skipping a dangerous beat as your mind shift through your memories, searching for something you can use for a self defense before it finally settles down with a realization that the only other person who could be complaining about your alarm because they were in bed with you, is jeon jungkook.

“god damn it,” you grumble with eyes barely open and mind half-awake while you pick up each article of clothing that are strewn across the room, “where did you throw my phone, jungkook?”

the man in your bed slurs out some incomprehensible words, leaving you with nothing but your wits and your wills and a little bit of urgency because your roommate may not be home most of the time but she definitely is in the morning. her schedule is more unpredictable than yours.

after a good one minute, you finally found your phone not on the floor but under the sheets right next to jungkook’s thigh. considering you spent a good chunk of your remaining sleepiness looking for it, you’re now out of the sleep essence and wide awake.

it looks like you caused quite a stir. jeongyeon’s text alone amounts to 36 notifs while each of your friend private messaged you an average of 5-12 texts each. the lowest being jimin and lisa who teetered on the line of ‘hey jeongyeon told me’s and ‘text me when you see this’ while jisoo’s are full out capsing and taehyung is a mixture of jimin and lisa with a missed call.

but what you don’t expect to see among the pile of notification, is the one pushed to the bottom by your friends’.

“oh, wow, kim namjoon texted me,” you blurt out, not knowing that a slip of tongue would cause a burst of reaction from the sleeping male in your bed.

shooting up with the sheets still covering his head, he yanks them down and fixes you with a wide-eyed, disbelieving gaze, “kim namjoon what now?”

it takes you a moment to digest the fact that he couldn’t even form a proper sentence or even grope around on the bed to help you look for your phone yet a single name and a verb could literally shock the sleep out of him. but you’re not one to hold onto grudges so you casually say, “he texted me.”

when you don’t offer anything else, the man finally asks, “well... what did he say?”

“’hey,’“ you echo the one worded text before slinging your towel over your shoulder.

“and?” hurried steps follow you into the hallway, an awkward ‘don’t-look-pressed’ laugh accompanying them, “...what did you say?”

“why?” you turn around abruptly, almost causing your follower to run right into you before he quickly halts himself, eyes slanting to the wall as he scratches his unclothed chest.

“i- uh, i don’t know - just curious i guess,” he mumbles out.

at that, the chuckles you’ve been holding back spills out of your mouth like waterfall. he opens his arms for you when you slip yours around his waist, locking your hands on his back, “i didn’t reply but if i did, it’s probably to tell him to stop texting me.”

the heartwarming ‘oh’ that tumbles out of his mouth is followed by a tuck in the corners of his lips, doe eyes filling with a sort of heat that makes your heart skip a beat.

that is, until fear flashes across his face, “wait, what time is it? don’t you have 8 am’s on tuesdays? i should leave-”

“nah,” you shake your head, a smile making home on your lips, “i’m skipping. you wanna get breakfast at mcdonald’s?”

instead of an affirmation, jungkook’s panicked face turns to a frown, hands coming to cup your cheeks as he twists it from left to right, as though looking for something and you know why-

“who are you and what have you done to sober ___?” he demands.

laughter trickles out of your mouth as you struggle to get out of his grasp while he demands you return you back, “___ would drag my ass to the door at ass crack o’clock when she has 8 am’s. bring her back!”

but in your fit of giggles and his exorcist-esque shouting, jungkook stops and pecks you on your mouth, “just kidding,” you don’t think you can ever get used to that boyish smile of his, “i would love to have our first sober date at mcdonald’s.”

as if a giggle switch has been switched on, you laugh some more, cheeks hurting and tears pooling in the corner of your eyes at the way he makes it sound like you’re asking him to a date.

and you’re not quite against that idea.

so you find yourself at the mcdonald’s five minutes away from your campus. if you have any fucks at all to give, you would be worried about meeting your casual friends. but something about jeon jungkook and your friends’ - your real friends - endless support from yesterday has turned you into a woman of steel. or, really, just mixed party-you and sober-you together.

“apparently he wants to get back together because he thinks it’ll help fix everything but i know he just wants to save his ass - oh, did you know the dean, jimin’s mom, kicked him out of circuit breaker?” you casually say before chugging on your coffee before the sound of someone choking a whole lung drums in your ears.

turning to you with flushed cheeks and post-lung cough, jungkook demands, “you can’t just dump things like this on me- you gotta give me a warning first.”

“i did,” you counter, and just as his face spells ‘when?’ you quickly add, “at home - when i said kim namjoon texted me.”

“babe, that was 30 minutes ago,” jungkook says, in a matter-of-factly.

but all you hear is the name he calls you, “i kinda like that.”

he smiles shyly but still say, “what? babe?”

“yes,” you place your phone on the table, forgetting the open text as you lean closer to jungkook before enunciating the word “babe?”

his hand finds its way to your chin while yours slip underneath his shirt as he guides your face to his lips. but just before you’re about to kiss, the sound of voices - familiar ones at that - pour into the otherwise quiet vicinity. drawn by your curiosity, you tilt your head just the slightest bit to peak at the newcomers when you feel the heat of pairs of eyes burn into your head.

“shit,” you blurt out.

“oh my god,” jisoo gasps while lisa lets out a muted whistle, murmuring a “whew, chile, the audacity of some men.”

jeongyeon snickers as she leans away from lisa who’s holding your phone with namjoon’s text open, “i know what’s going on,” she waves a hand gun at you, “you’re doing great now and he’s sad and lonely-”

“or he wants to show the dean you guys made up so he can get into circuit breaker again,” taehyung chimes in, leaning against the chair, volunteering to pick up everyone’s order from the counter, “you know, just a thought.”

“no, no, no,” lisa interjects, “it’s more than just that with these men - he wants you to think that he’s the only one that can... ‘save’ you.”

“from what?” jimin asks, innocent round eyes looking around until jisoo sighs.

“god, jimin, it’s obvious,” she fixes him a pointed look, “___’s being labelled a manipulating bitch,” she turns to you and winks, “which you aren’t, manipulating - mean but a bitch? yes, and the baddest,” and then she shifts her attention to jimin, “and he’s saying if she gets back with him, he’ll ‘clear things up’ because apparently people tend to take men’s words more seriously than women and he knows that.”

“word,” lisa shakes her head.

“but ___’s not gonna get with namjoon because she has a jungkook,” jeongyeon’s proclamation isn’t entirely baseless yet the way all eyes turns to you tells you that it’s not exactly an established fact - especially when everyone at the table knows that you were ghosting jungkook just yesterday.

“i mean,” jungkook begins from next to you, fidgeting in his seat but avoiding your gaze when you turn to him, “___ can do whatever she wants.”

a pregnant silence lapses between you as you feel your friends exchanging dubious looks with each other. taehyung’s disapproving frown is the hardest to miss because it must have come across as jungkook not being serious enough with you.

but knowing the aforementioned man and how he never assumes your needs and wants - unless you’re having sex because he knows exactly how you like it - you know he doesn’t want to pressure you to be with him.

“i’m not getting with namjoon,” you announce for yourself, shooting the him a smile just before taehyung leaves to get your food.

“i’ll go help tae,” and with that, you skip over to the taller man, catching onto jisoo’s interrogative “so, are you guys like, exclusive now?”

“hey,” you greet the man that’s about to lift the tray of cheeseburgers, drinks, apple pies and mcflurries.

he echoes your greeting with a passive one and you both walk to the chili counter in silence. when he sets the tray down, you’re already picking up one of the tiny paper cups, “so, jungkook came and check up on me yesterday and stayed over to make sure i’m okay.”

he doesn’t need to know you had sex in between.

“he’s a really good guy - and he only said what he said just now cause he doesn’t want me to feel pressured to choose between being with him, or with namjoon or just being single,” you add when it doesn’t seem like he doesn’t have anything to say.

“i’m sorry for acting like a dick yesterday,” he finally breaks his silence with a one breathed sentence, his hand picking up the chili sauce filled cup off your hands.

and that’s when you see your opening, “it’s fine,” you quickly accept but stand your ground, “but jeongyeon also said something about a bet but you didn’t criticize her- i’m not trying to point out who did what worse but it looks like you’re more critical of jungkook because you don’t personally know him.”

“i thought i know a fuck boy when i see one,” he grunts like a sulking child.

“honestly, what does fuck boy even mean?” shrugging, you raised your brows at his okay-get-to-the-point look, “jimin’s kind of a fuck boy if you think about it but we love anyway.”

when he doesn’t seem to deny your allegations, you continue, “and if jungkook’s a fuck boy, then i’m a fuck girl because i-“

“uh,” he recoils like a teen getting sat down for the birds and bees talk,“okay, okay. i get it - spare me the details.”

rolling your eyes at his dramatic reaction, you end with a “see, name calling doesn’t make sense, not to mention hurtful to the person being called that name. they’re a a human being with feelings.”

it’s the ‘i know’ at the end that got him. even though he hadn’t seen you being taunted and ridiculed that day, didn’t mean it stopped. you were just good at masking it because you knew better. knew that you had friends that would stand by you all the way - heck, jisoo even made a scene out of people looking at you the day before.

“i’ll try to not be so judgy,” taehyung announces before scrunching up his face, “but is him hanging out with us gonna be a permanent thing?”

“thank you for trying,” you fix him a proud smile as he picks up the tray to head to where the others are, “and he’s my friend too so yes, it’s going to be a permanent thing.”

“... say ‘cactus jack sent me’?” jeongyeon is in the middle of putting jimin up to walking over to the counter and saying the infamous line to the worker when you slip back into your seat.

“and travis scott’s burger,” and apparently lisa too.

jimin’s eyes disappear behind his lids as he chuckles at their attempts but he doesn’t exactly oppose the idea.

“hey,” jungkook’s eyes lights up when he sees you.

“so how was the interrogation session my girl friends?” you can’t help the devious grin that slips onto your face at the admittance that you may or may have not purposely left jungkook with your friends for the ice breaking slash interrogating session whilst you patch up your own friendship with your other friend.

“not bad,” he shrugs, “they even showed me your sleeping pics to scare me off but they forgot i wake up to that face almost every few days a week.”

at that revelation, your jaw drops to the ground, mind recalling the many times your open-mouth sleeping pictures have been sent into the group chat as a meme and it was not pretty.

“they did not,” your cheeks heat up as you make a mental note to gather everyone up and force them to finally delete that picture.

“don’t worry you’re not getting rid of me that easily babe,” unaware of the extent of the war raging inside you, he pecks your forehead and continues eating his fries.

“do i really look like that when i sleep?” you finally ask after clicking on the safety belt.

even though you could have rode with your friend in jimin’s car, jungkook insists to send you to class as a proper mark for the end of your first date.

“mhm,” jungkook hums casually as he turns on the car.

“and you still like me?” you’re not sure what kind of face you’re making but it has to be something between disgust and bewilderment because damn, he’s a real one.

“what?” he says between chuckles - as if he doesn’t see anything wrong with the picture and it makes your heart bloom with a sort of endearment while your core heats up with a sort of want.

throwing him a sly smile, you cock your head to the side, “get in the back.”

with a mixture of surprised and impressed blink, he doesn’t need to be told twice to unbuckle his seat and climb over to the back seat. long legs spread out to welcome you into his lap.

taglist: @gukksluv @illwritetomorrow

shout out to my biggest bestest friend in me-loving baddest b @koochiekoo !!! highkey without you, i probably would take longer to finish but you’ve been super supportive and i love you so this fic is for you neinya!!!

note. the first part (friend in me) wasn’t showing up on searches no matter how many times i posted it and my earliest readers would remember it being called ‘to my dear friend’ before i changed it to fim bc i wanted to see if it’ll show up on searches but it didn’t. idk if this one will but i dont have much hope bc the preview also didn’t show up on searches (weird) but i have lost the rest of the f’s i have and decided to post this with a mindset that it’ll reach the right people though probably be less than 50 ppl. but i hope those who came this far enjoyed the fic!

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #fic: friend in me #fic: to my dear friend

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saphirered · 3 years

Text

Can We Go Yet

Here it is; another instalment in the Eldritch Knight series and because I can’t keep to a word count it seems there’ll be another part. Enjoy 😘.

Essek swings his heavy cloak over his shoulders, connecting the clasp keeping it in place and rolls his eyes. He knew it was a bad idea letting his brother stay with him during his time in Rosohna instead of just dooming Verin to stay with their mother but when Verin showed up on his doorstep a week before he was expected claiming he had some extra days off and couldn’t do anything but dedicate them to some good old sibling bonding. Verin had showed up the night after he’d ask you out and the next day, today he’d be taking you out on your date.

“Come on, brother. Let’s go out for some drinks, cause some mischief. Someone has to breathe some life into the Firmaments.” Verin clasps a hand over Essek’s shoulder interposing himself between Essek and his path to the door with a grin that said enough about the problems he intended to cause.

“I have other obligations for the day. Besides, you are perfectly capable of pushing the Firmaments into chaos by yourself. I would not wish to get in your way.” Essek tries to brush his brother off and manages to get around the taller drow, the door opening with a wave of his hand, letting the subtile hint show that he will not hesitate to make a fool of his brother in public should he try to stop Essek.

“You and your obligations.” Verin rolls his eyes. “I could simply join-“

“No!” Essek may have spoken a bit quicker and intensely than he intended and he knew for sure he had when he sees the gleam in Verin’s eyes. It takes one to know one and that’s the look of a challenged Thelyss.

“As you are so adamant. Fine. I will behave and I won’t stop you from going wherever you are.” Verin shrugs and Essek doesn’t know wether to be relieved his brother didn’t push further or scared because one thing’s for sure; he’s suspicious. Nevertheless, expression neutral and proper he bids his brother goodbye and leaves. Despite not being a devout follower of anything but his own practices he finds himself sending prayers to who or whatever is watching to be merciful and keep his brother’s antics from ruining today. Any day but today.

Verin watches Essek depart staring him down before he closes the door. Quick as he is he rushes to a window looking around the corner and sees just the tiniest bit of his brother’s facade slip. Essek is relieved. He really shouldn’t be. Verin wouldn’t be a good and loving brother would he not cause his brother a generous level of embarrassment and trouble on his first day back home. From the top of the tower he sees Essek leave and once he’s sure Essek won’t be as alert he takes to snooping around his study. The usual arcane stuff, some paperwork from the Bastion and some notes, no a list. What are you planning Essek? He takes the list and accompanying notes and takes off to follow where Essek went.

The road leads him to a two-story mansion, a tree of green leaves growing out of the tower. Verin doesn’t think he’s ever seen a green tree in Rosohna. Ever. So it doesn’t come as a surprise that whoever would put such an ostentatious beacon on their roof would be affiliated with Essek. He does not, however see why Essek would willingly affiliate himself with them as he prefers not to draw attention. He watches as Essek knocks on the door. In a matter of seconds the door is opened, bell ringing, by a blue tiefling it seems who pulls him inside by the arm with a force and determination he hadn’t expected. The door is slammed closed behind them. Deeming it safe and trusting his skills Verin trails closer and finds a vantage point to spy on whoever these people are and begins to plot and plan what mischief he’ll cause.

“Essek, Essek, Essek!” Jester bounces with excitement as the door slams closed behind him. The tiefling pulls him into the common area where Beau’s lounging on a couch giving him a nod of acknowledgement. Caleb’s seated in a chair bend over the table scribbling notes, undoubtedly amidst transcribing a new spell. The wizard gives him a look of pity at the tiefling hugging his arm and blabbering on about what fun he’s gonna have and how much you’re gonna like everything he does and how romantic he is for taking you on a date and giving him tips on how to be even more romantic until Fjord takes mercy upon him and pries the girl away from him allowing him some space to compose himself.

Essek takes off his cloak revealing the clothes better suited for warmer weather when Yasha offers to take it while he waits for you. Gratefully he hands it to the woman who unceremoniously tosses it over the back of a chair, giving Beau a stern look who was on the brink of making some kind of remark. Jester is getting inpatient and rushes to the bottom of the stairs.

“Are you done yet?!” She shouts up and half of the Nein wince at the sheer volume. The longer he waits the more nervous he gets and the more difficult it becomes to repress that feeling but he’ll wait patiently still.

“Beauty takes time, dear Jester.” Your voice sounds from upstairs and the fine sound of your light steps hitting the floor approaching the stairs reach his ears. Jester getting the first view from her position gasps, fanning herself and this must have been the first time he’s seen the girl at los of words.

And then you come into his view, little by little as you walk down the steps. Essek has trouble putting words to the vision as he much like Jester has lost all ability to speak in that moment. Divine. You look absolutely divine. The fine light fabrics fit in all the right places creating an elegant and complimenting silhouette while still being practical in its cut to allow you complete freedom of movement and not get in the way should a fight ever break out. He couldn’t see them but knows you wouldn’t go without some kind of weapon on your person but has no doubt a dagger or two and some throwing knives are hidden between the folds of the garment. Your hair is elegantly styled in the same practical way you usually have it but small flowers have been pinned and weaved in to bring even more to the ethereal vision you already are and when you look at him, eyes bright and a smile to match, he feels himself unable to breathe.

Caduceus follows behind you, giving you a chance to walk down to Essek while he quickly clears the mess left in the wake of his work. He had claimed he used to do this with his siblings, finding new and creative ways to add flowers to their hair and weave them in by braiding and twisting, tying and simply pinning them in. It had brought him comfort he said, and with the knowledge of your date night he’d offered so you accepted happily. Your feet hit the ground floor and you look at the others, a quick inspection of the room to see they hadn’t been torturing Essek or hounding him for the details of your date you wait for Caduceus to join the others.

“Thank you, Cad.” You give the firbolg a quick side hug as he passes to sit down next to Beau. He’s about to ruffle your hair but quickly decides against it as to not ruin his good work. You walk over to Essek with a smile, the space between you a little closer than he’d have allowed with the others and while normally you’d reach out for his hand you refrain because of the company. Essek notices your eyes fall to his hand and to your surprise he entwines your fingers with his, squeezing softly. Your smile brightens and his matches as you forget about the audience for just a moment.

“How do I look?” You flounce out the fabric letting gravity have its way with the feather light material taking half a step back to allow Essek better view of you.

“Radiant. Like a divine being.” Essek breathes. Words have a difficult time formulating but he collects himself and veers away from the complete mind blank you’ve caused him. Not that he’s mad about it. It’s rather the opposite. It’s not even about the way you look, even though you had truly outdone yourself, he’d still thought you the most gorgeous person in the world in rags or sweaty training clothes. It’s about the confidence you radiate, the warmth like an embrace and the affection in your eyes.

“Oh, such a shame. I thought you didn’t affiliate yourself with deities.” You jest with a chuckle as you step back to where you stood before. Beau makes a gagging sound and you send her a death glare over your shoulder that shuts her up and has Yasha cover the monk’s mouth with her hand to prevent any retaliation to leave her lips.

“I better start now, then.” Essek whispers when you face him once more. He whispered for Beau’s sake and maybe even more so to stop Jester from gushing, the girl having already taken out her sketchbook and writing down everything you say and do for some reason. Then, you’re interrupted by the door to the study slamming open, Nott stepping out, a cloud of smoke dissipating from the room behind her and the smell that accompanies it just absolutely terrible that you reach up to cover your nose and subconsciously take another step closer into Essek’s side as if he can keep it at bay.

“Momma’s got a little gift for you two before you depart.” She proudly holds up two vials of some kind of brown-is dark green liquid sloshing about and it seems that these, more likely the crafting of the contents within are definitely the cause of this smell.

“What the hell is that?” You speak, slightly muffled trying to hold back the urge to gag. Even Essek is struggling at this point with the woman stepping closer and closer, doused in this rancid acidic chemical scent.

“I’m glad you ask!” A gleam in her eye makes you not so glad. “These babies are some proper rhino sex potions. Or they should be and you two can test them out on your little date. Make momma proud.” The goblin grins widely teeth exposed. You watch a blush creep up Essek’s cheeks as Nott in uncertain terms explains exactly what it does and how it’s supposed to work. She also mentions they’re untested but it should be fine. Perfectly safe. Maybe Essek would have preferred just dealing with his brother instead of listening exactly how these rhino sex potions should affect the drinker.

“You don’t bone on the first date, Nott!” Jester exclaims as if she knows best and Nott’s attention falls away from you and Essek turning to the tiefling instead.

“We’re adventurers, Jessie! We do things a little differently.” Nott defends.

“I mean, no. But yes, I’ve had sex on plenty of first dates.” Beau perks up siding with Nott if only to torture Essek further because she’s definitely loving the response she’s getting out of him, even though you’re comforting the man throughout it all. The argument continues, the rest of the Nein also getting into the mix of wether or not you should have sex on the first date weighing in all sorts of variables of your specific situation.

“Let’s go while they’re bickering if you want to make it out alive.” You mutter under your breath, just loud enough to hear and Essek catches on looking between you and the Mighty Nein as you keep your eyes on them pretending you didn’t do or say anything. He decides to take your word for it and doesn’t even bother contemplating the consequences of not saying goodbye to them instead speaking the words to the spell and you’re whisked off to another place far far away from the Xhorhaus and eternal night of Rosohna.

“Wait. Where did they go?” Yasha asks noticing the drow and their friend gone. The argument falls silent and eyes turn to the space where the two of you had been standing mere seconds before.

“They left when you started talking about wether or not their prior outings counted and if they’ve ever slept together afterwards when they had some privacy.” Caleb doesn’t look up from his work and keeps transcribing. When he doesn’t indulge them in the continuation of their argument and it eventually ends he’s on the verge of finishing up his new spell.

“You spoke with Essek yesterday before he left. Spill the beans Widogast.” Beau all but threatens. There’s a clearing of the throat midway up the stairs and while they first expected it to possibly be Dairon but the sound was too heavy and pitch different.

“I think I can help with that.” A drow sharing a striking resemblance to Essek although more muscular and taller holds out some papers. The Nein is on guard immediately ready to attack.

“I think we can be of use to each other.” Still wary it quickly becomes clear they do have a mutual goal and with the Nein’s ability to get into someone else’s business they had it covered. It took them exactly half a second to figure out what the list was; places in Nicodranas. Jester was already gushing on about them and ranking them in order of how romantic they could be.

Essek had taken you to Nicodranas and it just so happens that the Mighty Nein has a friend with a teleportation circle there. Caleb can spare the spell slot so how couldn’t they go for a night exploring the city, say hi to Jester’s mom and Yeza and Luc and better get to know their new friend Verin. It would be their down time while you and Essek went on a date. Or at least that’s their excuse because it’s pretty clear they just need to spy and snoop.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #essek x reader #essek thelyss x reader #critical role #mighty nein

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kurokoros · 3 years

Text

risky business | dabi

Rated: M

Words: 5.3K

Pairing: dabi x fem!reader

Summary: On your way home, you run into Dabi. He has no intentions of letting you go without having a little fun.

AN: This is a secret santa gift for @vixen-scribbles <3 I don’t think we’ve spoken much, but I hope you had a wonderful holiday! Also a special thanks to @the-smut-pile for hosting this exchange! This is by far the riskiest (hur hur) thing I’ve ever written, so I hope all of the degenerates out there are happy lmao

Warnings: smut, dubcon (consensual non-consent/roleplay), predator/prey undertones, knife play (and minor blood play) public/outdoor sex, mentions of voyeurism/exhibitionism, anal play, dirty talk (degradation), choking, hair-pulling, spanking/slapping, spitting rough sex, overstimulation, creampie/unprotected sex, aftercare at the end

Blue eyes stare down at you tauntingly from across the alley. He cocks his head to one side, watching as you shrink back against the wall. Amusement flickers across his face, a sick smirk tugging at his lips as you stare back at him, wide-eyed. Frozen in place now that there’s nowhere left to run. There’s a scream lodged in the back of your throat, trying to force its way out, but icy fear tears through your chest and rips the air from your lungs.

As your bottom lip trembles, his smirk only grows, pulling grotesquely at the staples holding his mismatched skin together. Burning, turquoise eyes look you over slowly, trailing from your terrified expression to your legs, your bare skin on display thanks to your short little skirt. Hungrily, he devours you with his eyes. Expression calculated. His eyes are practically glowing as he stalks towards you, his irises reflecting the light of the blue flames dancing threateningly on the tips of his fingers.

The predatory glint in his gaze makes your stomach twist into knots, but you still can’t will your legs to move.

“Well, what do we have here?” Dabi asks, his voice low and rough. A shiver runs down your spine. He stops when the two of you are nearly touching, an inch of space left between his chest and yours. Close enough for you to feel the immense heat radiating from the flames. “You lost, sweetheart?”

Concern drips from his tongue, but it’s mocking. Snide. Maybe the question would sound sincere if you didn’t know exactly who he was. If it wasn’t a wanted criminal standing in front of you. A villain. If he wasn’t looking at you like you were prey that he hunted down.

He’s playing with you. Toying with you now that he finally has you cornered. The chase was fun while it lasted, but now he has you right where he wants you, looking up at him like you’re nothing but a scared little animal. It’s pitiful, really. How easy it was. You made it so easy for him to catch you, almost like you wanted to be caught. A willing participant in the game of cat and mouse.

You don’t respond. Can’t. Desperate, your gaze flicks towards the mouth of the alley, hoping to find someone who could help you. The streets are still busy this late at night, the last train yet to depart.

It’s with a sinking feeling that you realize no one is going to help you. Most of the passersby refuse to look into the dark alley. And the lone man who does quickly averts his eyes.

Dabi’s gaze follows yours. Sick satisfaction bubbles in his chest when he watches the same man scurry away, his eyes wrenched away from the scene, ignoring what he’s just seen.

The flames licking at his knuckles extinguish themselves. Smoke wafts through the night air, dispersing slowly.

The tips of Dabi’s fingers scorch your skin as he grabs you by your jaw, digits digging into your chin. You wince as he yanks your head around, forcing you to face him. The fire is gone, but his hands are still burning hot, and his grip is tight enough to hurt. When your eyes lock, you find it impossible to turn away. Hypnotized by that deep shade of blue.

Suddenly, your mouth starts to work. “Please,” is all you manage to choke out, trying to beg him to stop, but the rest of the words die on your tongue.

“That’s right. Start begging like the little slut you are.” You want to shake your head, but his grip is too tight. “I’m in a good mood tonight,” he says, digging his fingers into your cheeks even harder, liking the pained grimace you give him. “Be a good girl for me and this won’t hurt too much.”

Hot fingers brush against your bare leg, and you’re wrenched back to reality. You slam your hands into his chest and shove him away. He grunts, taken off-guard by your boldness, and stumbles back just enough for you to slip away. You throw yourself to the side, lunging towards the mouth of the alley. But Dabi is faster. Before you can get far, he’s on you again. A strong arm wraps around your waist and hauls you back. You start to cry out, but the sound is smothered by a scarred palm covering your mouth. Instinct drives you to lash out, but Dabi throws you up against the wall before you can kick him.

It knocks the breath out of you. This time, his hand wraps around your throat and squeezes hard, choking you. It doesn’t take long for black spots to dot your vision. Your hands scramble for purchase around his wrist in a weak attempt to pull his hand away. Hot metal burns your fingertips. And you claw at him, your nails digging into the back of his hand and ripping at the staples holding him together.

Dabi swears as you manage to tear one of them out. The bloody staple clatters to the pavement, and the quiet, metallic chiming sound it makes might as well be a death toll. It’s followed by a louder shink that makes your blood freeze in your veins.

Cold metal grazes your cheek. Your struggling comes to an abrupt halt, your grip on his wrist loosening. Heart skipping a beat, your stomach twists as he carefully drags a knife down to your jaw, the sharp tip digging into your soft skin, though Dabi is careful not to cut you.

He sighs, low and frustrated, and you fight the urge to curl into yourself when he levels you with a harsh look, blue eyes alight. “You really wanna piss me off, dollface?” As he taps the blade against your cheek, you squeeze your thighs together, ashamed of the slick feeling growing between your legs.

When it becomes clear you aren’t going to fight him again, he releases your throat. Lightheaded, you gasp for breath. The knife shifts away from your skin, but doesn’t go far. Moonlight reflects off the blade as Dabi holds it in front of you, letting you get a good look at the thin, sharp object. The threat is blatant, and you shrink back against the wall.

There’s an audible hitch in your breathing as the tip of the knife touches your collarbone. The cold steel against your bare skin almost makes you flinch, and Dabi chuckles when he hears the small, shaky sound that falls out of your pretty mouth.

“Not so brave now, huh?” he murmurs, dragging the flat side of the knife along the column of your throat. You shiver as he ghosts the blade over your pulse point. “You gonna behave this time, or do I have to teach you a lesson first, pretty girl?”

The question hits you between your ribs, and you bite your lip when the knife slides back over your collarbone, trailing towards your cleavage. He clucks his tongue when you don’t respond. “Answer me,” he demands.

The blade stops when he reaches the top button on your shirt. You hold your breath as the sharp tip slips beneath the fabric. The button pops off and falls to the ground as Dabi slices through the thin string holding it together, revealing more of your pretty skin to his predatory gaze.

With the knife tracing the curve of your breast, you don’t dare ignore him. “No. I’ll—I’ll behave,” you tell him, stumbling over your words. Unintentionally, you arch your chest into his hand as the knife presses against you even harder, just shy of marking you.

“Good girl.” Dabi slips the knife under the next button, but changes his mind before he can cut it. Instead, he places the blade under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Now why don’t you strip for me?”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me.” Dabi shoves his knee between your thighs, forcing your legs apart. Your stomach rolls, but you have to stifle a moan when he grinds his leg against your clit through your panties. “Give me a show. Nice and slow, and maybe I’ll let you cum when I fuck your cunt.”

There’s something perverse about undressing yourself for him. Letting him watch as your shaking fingers fumble with the buttons on your shirt, practically ripping at them in your hurry to comply. He’s making you a willing participant in your own humiliation. Dabi wets his lips, rocking his thigh against your cunt with every button you pop open, which only makes you fumble more.

It doesn’t take long for him to grow impatient. As you struggle with the last button, Dabi murmurs a curse and tears your shirt open for you.

In his haste, the knife nicks your collarbone. The pain makes you whimper, and you flinch, causing the knife to dig into you harder before he angles it away. Blood wells in the cut. It isn’t too deep, or too long, but it stings. Your hips jerk against Dabi’s thigh, grinding against him. This time you moan outright, pleasure mixing with the pain, though you’re ashamed of yourself for it.

Dabi tenses when you mewl and rut against him, watching, fascinated, as a line of blood drips down your chest and soaks into the lacy cup of your bra. Even in the dark he can see the fabric stain.

There’s a split-second pause after as he presses the knife to your face. His demeanor shifts. Those blue eyes meet yours, searching your gaze, and he hesitates. Like he’s waiting for something. There’s blood on the blade from when he cut your chest, and it smears across your mouth as he slowly traces your bottom lip. Your gaze doesn’t waver, and you taste iron on your tongue after he pulls the knife away.

He slips back into character as his fingers slip into your hair. Dabi grabs a fistful of the soft strands and yanks, forcing your head to the side. A pathetic little whimpering sound is all that comes tumbling out of your mouth, and he smirks as you look at him with wide, teary eyes that do the begging your mouth can’t.

Your shirt is left intact as his attention shifts lower. He removes his knee from between your legs, and you almost whine at the loss of contact that you know you shouldn’t want. It shouldn’t feel good, but it does.

The knife leaves your cheek.

You tense.

The flat of the knife teases the inside of your leg, and you don’t dare move as Dabi drags it higher, inching closer to your dripping pussy. His hand disappears under the hem of your skirt, and you mewl, back arching off the wall as a hot hand teases your sensitive inner thighs. The fabric bunches around his wrist, revealing inch after inch of velvety soft skin to the chilly air. He grabs your leg with his other hand. Scorching fingers dig into your thigh, easily prying your legs further apart. As you shiver, Dabi runs the blade against you, making you squirm even more from the cold and the underlying threat of danger.

He stops. Looking down at your trembling form, Dabi eyes the mess he’s made of you already: your shirt ripped open, chest bloody where the knife sliced you open so easily, your skirt hiked up over your quivering thighs. You’re practically begging for him to bury his cock inside of you. Fuck you like a little bitch in heat.

You’d take his cock so well. Squeeze him just right. But he’s not done playing with you quite yet.

Suddenly, the knife is pressed up against your panties. The flat edge grinds against your clit, and you squeal. Without thinking, you grab his arm again, this time to steady yourself. His fingers are slick with blood where you ripped out one of his staples, but you don’t care, clinging to him as your legs threaten to give out. Your head falls back against the brick wall as he rubs the blade against your covered slit. “Don’t,” you plead, voice weak and laced with arousal. “Please…”

Dabi laughs when a soft, pleased mewl slips from your lips, your hips rolling back against his hand as he rubs your clit with the flat of the knife. It’s fucking filthy. Hot. And you hate how good it feels to have him play with your pussy like this.

You willingly spread your legs for him this time, and Dabi finally pulls your skirt over your hips. He leaves it bunched around your waist and takes a small step back to watch you grind your slutty cunt against the knife.

By now, your panties are soaked with your arousal. An ache settles low in your belly, and your walls clench around nothing as he presses harder against your clit. Tears burn at the backs of your eyes, shame swirling sickly in your stomach as you tug on his wrist instead of pushing it away.

The blade shines under the moonlight, glimmering wetly, and he quirks a brow. You barely stifle a whimper as he pulls his hand from between your legs. Before you can squeeze them shut, he shoves his knee between your legs again, his thigh grinding up against your pussy, not allowing you a moment to breathe.

“Look at that,” he muses, twisting the knife between his fingers so that you can see your own slick glistening on the blade. “Fuck, that’s hot. Thought you didn’t want me, dollface?” Your skin burns where he touches you. “Look how fucking wet you are already. Kinky little slut.” You turn your head away, but Dabi grabs your chin and forces you to look at how wet he made you.

When he’s sure you’re paying attention, he lifts the knife to his mouth. Heat flares in your belly as he licks your slick from the blade. Taunting you.

You slump forward as he yanks his knee away from your pussy, your legs giving out underneath you. Dabi catches you, manhandling you as he grabs your hips and spins you around; shoves you up against the wall, your cheek pressed to the bricks as his hand fists in your hair. You barely have time to steady yourself with your hands. Dabi presses the knife against the curve of your ass cheek, and you gasp as the sharp blade slips under your panties. He cuts the lacy fabric away and it flutters down, catching around your ankle. It’s soaked through with your arousal, cold against your leg.

The knife dangles from his fingers, pressed up against the inside of your thigh. The blade barely grazes your clit this time, teasing your slick folds. This time you can feel the cold metal against your swollen nerves, the sharp edge so close to nicking your sensitive folds.

Dabi slaps your ass suddenly. You squeal, hips lurching against the knife. He angles the blade away before you can cut yourself, spreading your cheeks apart so he can see your dripping slit. By now, you’re practically trying to grind against the knife, anything to relieve the tension between your shaking legs. It hurts. And the humiliation that washes over you only makes it worse.

“Gonna cum for me already?” Dabi asks, watching your hips stutter as he brings the knife back to your thigh. You whimper as he nicks you again. Warm, wet liquid beads in the cut, blood mixing with the fluids dripping from your drenched pussy. The blood smears against your leg as he rubs his knuckles against you. “Dirty bitch. Cum then. Or do you need a little help getting there? Hmm? You want me to make you cum all over my fucking hand?”

You shake your head, sobbing as he tosses the knife to the ground. Dabi’s arm wraps around your front as he brings his hand back to your leg. His fingers burn as they trail across your inner thigh. Small welts in the shape of his fingertips scorch your skin, leaving marks that won’t disappear for weeks.

Lazily, he strokes your clit, hand still hot to the touch as he rolls the swollen nub with his thumb. His chest molds against your back, crushing you between him and the wall as he traces your slit with two fingers.

Your body responds eagerly to his touch, your legs spreading to accommodate his hand. He chuckles as your hips roll against him, practically begging for him to fuck you, to make you cum over and over until you can’t take it anymore. And he’s more than willing to give your body what it wants.

You gasp as he shoves two of his fingers into your pussy, immediately picking up a harsh pace as he fucks you with his hand. You make it easy for him, your pussy taking his fingers so fucking well. They’re thick and long inside you, and it doesn’t take him long to find that spot that makes you squirm and cry out.

He shoves your face harder against the wall. Bits of brick dig into your cheek, but you barely feel them as he grinds his palm against your clit.

Expression contorted with bliss, you whimper as he forces a third finger inside your tight cunt, your walls stretching around the digits. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, rough thrusts picking up speed as your legs tremble, threatening to give out beneath you. It stings. Too much. Too soon. But Dabi doesn’t stop his brutal pace, even when there are tears streaming down your face and you choke out a sob, pleading with him to stop or slow down.

That only seems to encourage him. He yanks on your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder so that your back is arched and he can see the line of blood dripping down your chest. You wince as one of the staples on his palm catches on your clit. The cool, metallic sensation is foreign and rough, but so, so good. Dabi grinds against your ass suddenly, making sure you feel every inch of his hard cock.

There’s a mocking tone in his voice when he asks, “That hurt?” He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing with fast circles. “Can’t be that bad if it’s making you this fucking wet. Bet you like this, huh? Fucking slut. Letting a villain play with your cunt like this. Are you gonna cum for me? Fuck, this pussy is gonna feel so good around my cock.”

Your cheeks burn as you hear the slick sound of his fingers thrusting into your pussy, fluid dripping down his hand. Humiliation burns in your chest as you realize how quickly he’s going to make you cum just by fingering you in some dirty back alley. And your body betrays you, your cunt clenching around his fingers as those staples rub against your swollen clit again. The contrast between his hot fingers and the cold metal is dizzying.

“Please,” you whimper as he curls his fingers against your sensitive walls. Your pussy clenches around him tighter, a knot winding tight in your belly as he forces you closer to the edge.

Dabi lets go of your hair. You moan as he slaps the back of your thigh. “Desperate little bitch,” he calls you. “Begging me to play with your dripping cunt in some dirty back alley. Now fucking cum. That’s all you’re fucking good for.”

It’s him degrading you that gives you that last push you need, your body unable to fight him anymore. Dabi’s fingers curl just right and your hips buck into his hand, taking him deeper. Those staples rub against your clit harder, and your body locks up as an orgasm rips through you, leaving you breathless as you cum all over his fingers with a silent scream.

He drags your pleasure out until you’re crying, but you’re too weak to push him away. All you can do is squirm and cum again as he overstimulates you. And you feel empty when he finally pulls his drenched fingers from your cunt.

You slump against the wall as he lets go, fingers scraping the bricks as you try to hold yourself up on your trembling legs. He doesn’t allow you to get comfortable though. Dabi’s hand slaps your ass, and he chuckles when you squeal. He takes a step back, watching your cum drip down your thighs before glancing at your swollen pussy.

His belt jingles as he rips at the buckle, tearing at the leather. Your cunt clenches. Dabi shoves his pants down his hips just enough to pull out his thick cock, the tip flushed and beaded with pre-cum. He hisses as he strokes himself, his fingers running over the piercings lining the underside of his dick.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you realize his fingertips are on fire as he grabs your waist and forces you to bend over, giving him a nice view of your ass and your sloppy cunt. His grip on your hip is bruising, his burning fingers digging into your side harshly, branding you with more small burns. You flinch away from the heat, but Dabi only grabs you harder, holding you in place.

You whimper as he rubs his cock against your slit, rocking against you slowly just to torment you. The metal piercing through the head of his dick is hot enough to make your toes curl as it rubs against your sensitive clit, your nerves frayed from his earlier ministrations. The bricks beneath your hands scrape at your palms and scratch your cheek. Unwanted arousal further mixes with the sharp spikes of fear prickling at your skin, sending heat flooding your belly as slick drips down your inner thighs.

“Please,” you mewl as he reaches between your legs and lines his cock up with your entrance. Dabi easily knocks your legs apart when you try to squeeze them shut. “Please, stop, I can’t—” Your protests turn into a choked moan as he swipes a finger over your clit to shut you up, getting sick of your whining.

That’s all it takes to distract you, your naughty hips wiggling against him enticingly when he rubs with fast circles, his fingers heating up.

It’s amusing, Dabi thinks. How you keep pretending you don’t want this. How you keep telling him to stop when your body is begging for him. Little slut.

He buries himself inside of you with one hard thrust, splitting you open with his cock. You squeal, jerking, and buck against him, taking his cock even deeper as your walls stretch around him until it hurts. He’s so fucking big inside of you. Even his fingers weren’t enough to stretch you out. And the piercings lining the underside of his shaft rub your walls perfectly as he drags his cock back out until only the tip is left inside.

“Knew you wanted a fat cock inside of you,” Dabi sneers, laughing as you clench around him and moan. “Fucking cock slut.”

Dabi doesn’t let you breathe as he starts thrusting and grinding against your dripping cunt, fucking you roughly from behind. His hips slap against your ass with each hard thrust. His fingers dig into your waist. At some point, one of his hands palms your breast, slipping beneath your bra to pinch and pull at your nipple.

The filthy sound of your wet walls clinging to his thick cock fill the alley. Abruptly, you’re reminded that anyone could walk by and see you like this. Sobbing and moaning as you let a villain—a wanted criminal—fuck your soaked cunt. The thought makes you clench around him harder, your pussy sucking him in deeper.

And Dabi knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he tells you, grabbing either side of your waist so he can drag you back on his cock and fuck you harder, using you for his own pleasure. “You get off on this? Being fucked where anyone could see you?” He snorts. “Naughty girl.”

You shake your head weakly, and Dabi laughs at you again. More tears burn your eyes.

Dabi grins as you start rolling your hips back against his, finally taking his cock like a good girl. Your teary cries have softened into muffled moans and mewls, slutty little sounds that make his cock twitch. Every thrust makes his piercings rub against your walls. Your pussy won’t stop fluttering around him. Clenching and trying to take him deeper.

You’re dripping all over his cock and balls. Making a mess all over him with your sloppy pussy. He can’t help but dip one of his hands between your legs to run his fingers through your slick folds. He rubs your clit with his thumb until your hips start to twitch, then cruelly pulls away just to hear you whine and beg for him to touch you.

A slicked-up finger slips between your cheeks, and you squeak as Dabi’s thumb presses against your hole. The way you moan when the digit slips inside of you is needy and embarrassing. The knot in your stomach coils tighter as he stretches you out, playing with your ass as he fills you with his cock.

Your muscles clench around him. Dabi’s fingers dig into your ass cheek, spreading you apart so he can watch you take his cock, see his finger shoved inside of your other slutty hole. The sight makes his cock twitch inside you, and he groans.

Dabi’s thumb pops out of your hole. He slaps your ass hard enough to make you cry out. Fingertips dig into your skin, littering you with small burns that make you writhe underneath him. The air surrounding you is sweltering, leaving you sticky with sweat.

He grabs you by the neck, yanking you upright and pulling your back flush against his chest so he can whisper absolutely filthy things in your ear. You latch onto his wrist again, your head lolling back against his shoulder, back arched in a pretty curve. The new angle has his cock battering your sweet spot with every thrust, and your hips move with his, grinding back against him as his fingers constrict around your throat, choking you. Dabi shoves your torso against the wall, giving himself better leverage as he fucks you harder.

A hand dips between your legs again, this time to play with your clit, rolling and pinching it with his fingers. He’s going to make you cum one more time. Make you cum around his cock like the slut you are. Stubbornly, you try to squirm away from his rough touch, refusing to give in. Pissed, he slaps your cunt, making you squeal. Hot fingers roll over your clit, and this time you give in to the heat, letting it cloud your mind as you lose yourself to bliss.

Blue eyes glance at your parted lips, your mouth open as you pant, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. Dabi tightens his grip on your neck. Tilts your head back for a better angle. Spits in your mouth. Your eyes widen, but he squeezes your throat. “Swallow it,” he murmurs in your ear.

You do as you’re told, further humiliated. But you don’t have time to dwell on it as his cock pounds you and his fingers swirl over your clit just right.

Your mouth falls open as you clench around his cock, cumming hard, your orgasm tearing through you. It leaves you breathless. The only sound you make is a choked whimper, a mewl that almost sounds like his name, but it’s so muddled you can’t tell. Your legs tremble beneath you, Dabi’s chest and hands the only thing holding you up.

He fucks you through it, groaning again as your cunt spasms around him. Dabi drags your orgasm out until it hurts, your body sensitive and spent from everything he’s put you through.

With a resounding slap, he buries his cock inside of your pussy, cumming deep inside of you. The rush of warmth has your eyes fluttering shut, a sigh falling from your pretty mouth.

Thick, milky fluid drips down your thighs as he eases his cock out of you, tucking himself back into his pants. Cool air brushes against your wet cunt, and the uncomfortable feeling makes you shift. Dabi’s cum is sticky on your legs. Hot. And he slips a hand between your legs to shove it back into your pussy.

Your heart is still pounding in your chest when his grip starts to slacken. Dabi’s hand loosens around your throat, allowing you to breathe again. Heat sinks into your skin as he rubs his thumb against your hip, soothing a tender spot where his fingers dug into you a little too hard. There are burns there. Not bad enough to scar, but you’ll feel them later every time you move, his touch imprinted on your body, claiming you.

Possessiveness flairs in his chest, and he presses himself closer to your back, relishing the feeling of your body against his. Slowly, he moves his hand higher, slipping it under your ruined shirt. Two fingers tap against your waist, demanding attention like they did earlier, when he leaned in close while walking you home and told you to run. Indulging in a scene the two of you have only talked about before.

You looked at him with such wide eyes when he did, nervous and excited. It was the heat in his gaze that sent you running, pangs of arousal already getting you wet before he even caught you.

“Hey.”

Dabi sighs when you don’t react to the sound of his voice, your gaze far off as you stare at nothing, your breath slowly evening out. He adjusts his grip on your waist, squeezing you just a bit tighter to his chest. “Hey,” he tries again, jostling you with his shoulder. His fingers dig into your cheeks when he grabs your chin, gently turning your head towards him. The pad of his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, coaxing you back to him. The vacant look in your eyes slinks away when his gaze finds yours in the dark. And you sink into deep blue. “You with me, doll?”

The arm looped around your waist doesn’t lose its tension until you finally nod.

Slowly, you lean into the hand on your jaw, soothed by the heat and the rhythmic motion of his thumb stroking your cheek. Dabi lets you nuzzle into him, your eyes falling shut. His breath fans over the side of your face, and you subconsciously lean back against the warmth sinking into you from behind, seeking out his affection.

“Okay?” Dabi presses his lips to your temple, lingering as you sigh.

“You broke character,” you whisper as he eases you around in his arms. And you cling to him, hands fisted in the back of his jacket and your head tucked against the side of his neck.

He only shrugs. “Wanted to give you a chance to tell me to knock it off. Didn’t think you’d like me cutting you up like that.” His tone turns teasing. “But you took my cock so well, didn’t you, doll?” He runs his hands down your hips. “What a good girl. Next time I might fuck that cute ass, too.” Dabi grabs your cheeks and squeezes suddenly, and you squeal, giggling as he forces you up onto your toes. “Bet you’d like that.”

Dabi kisses from your neck to your collarbone, his lips finding the small cut he made. It’s stopped bleeding already, but there’s a ruby line trailing down your chest. You sigh as he focuses his attention there, being unusually soft with you.

You call out his name—his real name, but he shakes his head, pulling away to level you with a fond look, and you realize he needs this as much as you do. “Let’s get you home, doll.”

#dabi x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #tw: dubcon

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yvainegelinemarie · 3 years

Text

The bois tell MC how proud they are of your hardwork and they see you giving your all!!

𝚨𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖞 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌: ✨ ALL my writing prompts are gender inclusive and promote love, kindness and fun for all!

✨I know that each and every one of our boys would love and support each and everyone of you and I hope that my readings portray that comforting, accepting and loving nature through and through~

✨And with that I hope you Spookies enjoy~~

☪ 𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒: Mr. Love Queen’s Choice

☪ 𝕽𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌:13+ No Warnings, Fluff, Encouraging, A Pick Me Up.

☪ 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖙 : Quick Read, bullet points

𝚨𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝚴𝖔𝖙𝖊: I have been feeling kind of low and crummy these past few days trying really hard to put myself out there to chase after a dream of mine and I wasn’t expecting to be really hit hard with so many highs and lows and when it seems like you are stepping out of your comfort zone and facing your biggest fears at 90 to nothing there are a lot of times that you just need to crawl into someone's arms and to just let them tell you that you are good enough and that they see you working hard.

So for anyone else who has been trenching through this tough year and trying out new things that may scare you half to death, I want you to know that your favorite boy see’s you kicking ass and that he’s well, proud of you.

Even if you have one particular boy as your go to I suggest checking them all out since each of them have different types of encouragement of different types of situations. Or at least read the one you feel like fits what you need to hear the most right now (and well, of course your fav.)

VICTOR | CH03 | 0 : 00 : 01

✨For those who are struggling with reaching their dreams✨

Hell knows when was the last time you have had a good night's sleep.

You couldn’t help but to be on your toes now glued to your computer screen in your darkened bedroom.

Completely unaware of the sun slowly creeping its way through the blinds.

This project was something you had only dreamed about producing years ago,

and in 3 days it was going to be launched to the public. You have done plenty of projects before but never something as passionate and as close to home as this one was.

This project was taking out a deeper side of you that you have never shown before and deep down you knew that it was time for you to express it. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t spend the last 4 months terrified of the outcome.

Your tired eyes reread the entry over and over again as each time you only feel your heart grow more and more anxious and your eyes fill up with tears. Can I really share this with the world? What if people think that this is all fake? Will I really be able to accept the criticism?

With your mind running on it’s own you missed your phone vibrating next to you. You had already received 3 miss calls from Victor in just the last 30 minutes.

It wasn’t until the ding of the voicemail that you snapped back to reality.

Sliding your lock screen open and taking in a deep breath, ready for whatever lecture Victor was going to throw at you next.

In the Voicemail Victor’s voice opened with a deep sigh. “You better not be asleep, especially after you promised to have breakfast with me this morning. I’ll be arriving at your apartment in 20 minutes, you better be ready du-”

His words were cut off when you were startled by your phone ringing again, seeing victor’s name pop up on the caller ID. You quickly glanced down at the time on the voicemail that was sent 23 minutes ago?! Why did your phone just now decide to remind you?! You knew now from Victor’s call that it meant that he had arrived and you, racoon eyed, sleep deprived and still in your clothes from the day before felt a rush of tears swell up in your throat.

You were so focused on this project that you completely forgot about something that you were looking forward to so excitedly just a few months ago.

You answered Victor’s call and brought the phone to your ear. “Dummy, don’t tell me that you just now woke up?” Victor said in his usual stern and playful tone. You choked on your tears before letting out a little hic. “I-I’m sorry…” You said brokenly as you heard the sound of shuffling, the click of Victor’s seat belt unbuckling and the slam of his car door followed by a soft beep indicating him locking it. “Why are you crying?” His voice instantly became concerned as he was quickly heading into your apartment complex.

“I-I don’t want to talk about it...it’s silly.”

“Nothing is silly if it’s making you cry so early in the morning. When I get to your apartment, tell me what is bothering you.” He said bluntly, leaving you no room to make excuses like always. Even in times like this Victor was sure that he was going to effectively fix your problem.

When he arrived at your apartment you slowly opened the door with your head hung down low as you looked just like you did moments before, sniffling softly.

Victor gently put his hand on yours causing you to open the door quickly before embracing you in a hug as his soft, deep voice tickled your ear. “Dummy, don’t tell me you stayed up all night working?” He said as you hugged his suit jacket tightly, feeling his heartbeat against yours, his was a bit more fast paced. He must have been really worried, you thought before he let out a large sigh. “You always do this,” his soft voice continued. “Working all day and all night when your projects are close to the end. I know that you want to make sure that everything is right...but i've told you this before, there is no need to bear all of this on your own. Let me know when you are stressed.”

You squeezed his jacket lightly as you looked up at him, tears streaming down his face. “You don’t get it Victor. “Someday I want to be just as great as you. I want to be hardworking, successful, a-and I want to be proud of what I do. I want you to be proud of me too.” Your voice sunk as your hands slipped off his large back to rub your tired eyes.

Victor let out a deep sigh before lifting your face up to his.

“Dummy, you think I got to become this successful overnight? And just because I am good at handling my money doesn’t mean that I am good at everything. After all, I didn’t check up on you enough or tell you how great you really are.”

“What do you mean?” You questioned before getting cut off by a smooth and minty kiss as Victor’s lips warmed yours. He pulled away slowly as his silvered eyes observed yours intensely. “You are already great ____. And the only way for you to get better is to have confidence in yourself. As long as you are doing everything in your power to succeed, then you will. That and I am already very proud of you dummy, so you should be proud of you too.”

Your eyes lit up widely as you were left at a loss for words. Victor was complimenting you! “I-” You didn’t have much time to speak before you were swept up into his arms and led over to your bed as your cheeks flushed red. “U-um Victor?” You said.

“We're not doing that this early in the morning.” He said with a sigh before placing you on your bed lightly. “Get some rest.” He added pulling back the covers on your bed.

“But what about our breakfast date?” You stuttered out as you didn’t want to miss this opportunity.

“We can go another time. And I’ll just cook you something here while you catch up on a bit of sleep.” He said with a soft smile.

“Ah...Okay...but…” You trailed off as his smile faded away.

“What?” He said with his arms crossed.

“Well, it’s just that I really wanted to eat at that restaurant...since you talked so highly of it last time. N-not that I don’t like your cooking I like it a lot it is just that-”

Victor then let out a deep chuckle as your cheeks flustered up.

“Dummy, I know someone who cooks as bad as you isn’t criticizing my cooking. And we will eat at the restaurant next week, as a celebration for you completing your project.”

You blinked softly in shock before brushing your hair back. “Isn’t it a bit early to be making a promise like that?” You said softly.

“Not at all. Because I know that you will finish it, AND I know that you will do well.” He said with a handsome smile as you felt your confidence slowly start to build back up.

Victor was right, you are great and you just need to have faith in yourself that things are going to work out for you in so many beautiful ways.

After all if it wasn’t for your assertiveness and strength you wouldn’t be where you are today.

You pulled the covers close to you falling asleep almost instantly.

When 30 minutes had passed you were woken up to the song of birds greeting the sun and the lavish smell of a french styled breakfast.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes you join Victor in your small quiet kitchen surrounded by an array of foods that you are completely in awe of. You can’t believe that you had all the ingredients in your kitchen to make this?!

Crepes cooked to perfection with your topping of choice sat neatly on your plate with a summer colored mimosa delectly placed beside it. In the center of your small table was an arrangement of different types of bread, each piece carefully sliced next to small glass bowls of butter, honey, and two hand made jams. One sweet and strawberry while the other was citrusy and tangy.

“You made all this?” You said to Victor as you slowly sat down.

“Of course, I wanted to make a breakfast that suits you individually. It would have been grander. But given the time and limited space. This was all I could do. I hope you like it.” He added.

“Yes...Yes I do! It is very lovely Victor…” You say calmly while your heart beats with excitement.

“You truly are worth something this luxurious.” Victor’s calm and creamy voice says to you amongst your meal as you can’t help but to smile and nod softly in agreement, for he was absolutely right.

SHAW | CH03 | 0 : 00 : 02

✨For those who failed and need to pick themselves back up✨

This is it, you finally decided to try to go back to college.

You figured that having some sort of title might help you gain some more rep when you go off to meetings with other executives andddd it wouldn’t hurt to learn a new skill or two that might help you with your growing career.

But who would have known that an entrance exam and thousand word essay would be so fucking hard to write?!

You already reread the prompt question a hundred times and were still facing the devil of writer's block. Staring at the blank page for hours and hours as your mind just kept wondering off to the chorus of the last song you heard.

Normally back in high school you would have just stepped away and tried to start writing it tomorrow...or the day after...or maybe the night of (usually the night of) but now you really didn’t have any other time to write this paper unless it was right now!

Because you still had a job to do. There is absolutely no other time that you can squeeze in to write this paper unless you are writing it right the F now!!

You ruffle up your hair in frustration and stomp your feet Come on stupid brain!!! Just give me something to fucking write!!! You curse at yourself only to find that it slumps you into a cycle of self depreciation.

Am I really so dumb that I can’t even easily pass a college eterance exam? Even Shaw makes straight A’s and he spends all of his time running from the cops in alley ways or playing hooky at the bar all night long.

You lay your head down on the keyboard of your laptop as the letter h just types itself quickly across the pages where your essay should be. You let out a long sigh, laying there in silence as not a single thought floats by.

You soon sit back up, convincing yourself that if you start writing out nonsense then maybe something will come to mind. You then take a long stretch before tapping your hand down lightly on the keyboard. Then you hear the dreadful click of your mouse.

Your eyes watch in doom as the essay page filled with the letter H soon disappears and a happy “Thank you for submitting your application to Loveland University.” pops up.

Your heart then sinks to your ass. No way...no way!...NO WAY!!

You quickly rise up from your chair as your breathing grows heavier and heavier. You feel your eyes foaming up with tears. Your one last opportunity is now completely screwed up all because your hand slipped?!?

Covering your mouth you begin to sob uncontrollably. Everything about today was going wrong and this was just the cherry on top.

As you stood there crying Shaw had walked into the apartment with his skateboard and backpack in hand, sitting them down at the front entrance.

“Hey, Babe. I’m home.” His charming voice startles you. Oh great, you thought nowhere near ready to approach him about this.

“Hey?” He says again as he makes his way through the apartment. “Where are you at?”

Once he finds you sobbing in your office his expression turned forgien with concern.

Shaw is the WORST when it comes to comforting you but you knew that he tried his best to make you feel better.

“Woah, woah...Babe...baby, why are we crying? What’s goin’ on?” He walks over to you, his arms open and ready to embrace you in a tight hug.

The coolness of his leather jacket chills your heated face as you sob on his shoulder. He lets out a calming sigh as his hand rubs up and down your back, letting you get out all of your much needed cry.

When you reach your composure enough to talk you explain to him between sniffles what had happened. Your self deprecation building up more and more before Shaw shakes his head no.

“Hey now, stop talking shit about my girlfriend okay, only I can do that.” He said as you blink at him confused.

“W-what?” You stumble on your word as Shaw leans over to wipe a tear off your eye.

“Well I think that you’re really cool, and smart. And if someone like me can pass that entrance exam you can too ___.” He said.

“B-But I submitted my essay by accident already.” You lower your head defeated, ready to cry again as Shaw lets out a light chuckle before ruffling your hair.

“You know that we can call the administration and let them know what happened. They will see that it was an accident and let you submit it again. Mistakes happen babe but the longer you sit on them the longer it will take to get over them. The school doesn’t close until 8. So you have 4 hours to call them and get it fixed.” He said calmly as you nodded quietly.

Shaw was right, this was a mistake yes, and also a bit embarrassing. But it is human to make them, and everyone does. And when you make a mistake like this, dwelling on it is only holding you back from achieving your goals.

You raised your head and clenched your fists confidently. “You’re right! For once.” You said to him.

“Hey!” Shaw laughs as he pushes you lightly causing you to giggle as well. You two playfully push one another back, poking at each other and slipping out silly names before Shaw’s arms wrap around your waist.

He kisses you lightly on the lips before smiling sweetly. “You got this, I know you do.” He said as you couldn’t help but to agree with him.

And sure enough the university understood your dilemma and sent you a new registration.

GAVIN | CH03 | 0 : 00 : 03

✨For those who struggle to let go of the past✨

You knew how this was going to play out. After all you have seen it time and time before.

And now you can’t help but to get a little discouraged at the disappointment that this was going to bring you.

The past already proved it to be true after all.

Countless failed outcomes have led you only to conclude one thing.

That this dream of yours was going to end up in complete and total failure.

But even if that was the only logical outcome you could think of you still couldn’t fight the feeling in your heart that was telling you that this WAS right.

Yet, now here you were, stuck in limbo and unable to move forward.

You sighed looking at your notes, you had always dreamed of one day that you would get to start your own business. Now not to read you wrong, you did love working as the CEO of your fathers company but it was seeing him build his business from the ground up that inspired you to one day do the same.

You have spent as long as you can think back to. Brainstorming ideas, doodling logo designs and daydreaming about something that you could call your own.

And now here they come, those heart-wrenching thoughts from the past ready to quiz you and make you think, am I really good enough to have this dream? Do I deserve it?

All those past experiences of people questioning your skills, telling you that you aren’t prepared enough and that you’d never be able to be the person you dreamed of just makes you want to curl up into a ball and give up.

Even for a moment the thought of maybe they ARE right, floods in and you feel yourself wanting to cry, believing in it just for a moment as your ego tries to back up the negativity with ‘facts’ to prove it.

You crawl your way back into bed heartbroken and honestly just wishing that all your thoughts, good and bad, would just fade away.

You pull the covers over your face as you begin to sniffle as your throat clumps up, ready for the tears to fall from your eyes.

And right on que they do. You bundle up closer and closer to yourself, sitting in silence with the haunting memories of the past.

You soon feel the bed sink down a bit before a warm hand runs it’s way up and down your side.

You choke on your tears more, knowing that it is Gavin and there was no hiding your tears from him now.

You felt the warmness of his body tower over you as his lips pecked the top of your head through the covers.

“When you are ready to talk about it, I’m here okay.” He said to you quietly.

Gavin continued to rub your back in the silence of your room waiting patiently for you to collect yourself enough to talk to him.

And after a good 30 minute cry session you slowly sat up before pulling Gavin into a warm embrace. Sniffling into his neck as he just gently pressed his lips to your shoulder. “You know ___, when you are hurting like this...I don’t want you to keep it from me okay? I’ll help you through this.” He spoke to you in a gentle voice.

You slowly pulled from your hug as you wiped your eyes and began spilling out your heart to him. Telling him about everything. Every past encounter that has left you hurt and how you like to think that you have grown and gotten over the pain but it is moments like this that it just all comes back up again and you feel like you are right back to where you started.

Gavin’s caramel eyes watched you quietly as he listened to you greatly, taking in your pain as if it was his own. You could tell that he truly understood and got you and that he really knew how badly it was hurting you.

And after a moment he spoke up.

“The past can be painful sometimes, but it’s there to help us learn and grow. And you can’t ever know how something is really going to play out in the future either.” He said calmly. “All you really can do is take little steps now to lead you to the future you want. Don’t let it get the best of you okay? I know that you will do great. And I will be here to support you through it all.”

He was right, all those times that people told you that you weren't enough, or looked at you like you were crazy. All those failed attempts and embarrassing moments, they were all there to teach you that you are great! And that you are very much worthy of your hopes and dreams!

Gavin leaned over to pick your notes up off of your nightstand as he studied them closely, a sweet smile on his lips.

“I might not know much on how to start your own business, but just seeing this idea, I know that it is going to help so many people. You should go through with it.”

“B-but what if it fails?” You say with your head down.

“Well then we will just figure out the root of the problem, fix it, and move forward.” He said as you quickly looked up to see Gavin’s handsome smile as your eyes started to water again, but this time with happy tears.

Because now here you were, taking on your dreams, with someone who has always believed in you, and who has never once questioned just how amazing you truly are.

LUCIEN | CH03 | 0 : 00 : 04

✨For those who rob themselves of fun✨

You were so excited to sit in at an exclusive lecture that you have been begging Lucien to take you to for months now. It was an introduction class to understanding Quantum Mechanics. A subject that racked your brain,but in a good way.

And even though Lucien’s undergraduate degree was in biochemistry;he was still fairly knowledgeable and greatly enjoyed physics, and with that happily obliged to accompany you.

You were filled with anticipation and the utmost excitement. Swaying your feet beneath your seat with anticipation as the instructure took his place at the podium.

He was an older gentleman with a rustic and well uniformed style. His caramel colored suit complemented his toffee skin. His visible laugh lines and crow's feet along with his brightly colored red bow tie,symbolized a man who lived a full and prosperous life. And even now with no head of hair and whispers of grey singing through his beard expressed that same song of legacy and abundance through him.

You were thoroughly impressed by the wise looking man whose hands were clasped behind his back patiently waiting for students to fill the seats before glancing at Lucien’s young and smooth features. Only to notice that he had been watching you the entire time, lips curled with his hand pressed closely against them.

You panic for a moment waving your hands and covering your face. “S-stop looking so intensely at me.” You say as Lucien’s princely chuckle caused your heart to ache.

“I can’t help it...You just look so excited. Like a silly little kid in a candy store.” he said before letting out a teasing sigh. “I am a bit upset that you never look this excited when you come to see my lectures.” He said crossing his arms and looking away from you with a sorrow filled expression.

“T-That’s not true! I love going to your lectures Lucien.” You said proudly. “It’s just that..well...sometimes it’s hard to understand...since you teach such an advanced class.” You say admitting defeat as you lower your head.

“I see…” Lucien said softly looking at you once more. “Then next time I’ll be sure to explain them to you in a way that you can enjoy and understand.” He said before lightly brushing your hair behind your ear.

You glanced up for a moment to see Lucien’s gentle smile but before you could say anything the professor at the stand began his lesson.

The first 30 minutes of the lesson went by in a breeze as the professor recapped on the basic understanding of quantum mechanics and the movement of an electron. These were all things that you have heard from Lucien before and even information you yourself have researched and understood. You happily listened, jotting down notes between cute doodles of bunnies and flowers as Lucien would occasionally add a cute butterfly or heart to your scribbles.

“Hey.” You said in a soft whisper swatting his hand away playfully. “You of all people should know better. Don’t draw in class.” You teased him as Lucien couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Your bunny looked lonely. I wanted them to have a friend.” He said in a soft voice, amongst the lecture it was almost too hard to hear, as you glanced over to see that Lucien had his notes displayed as well.

You weren’t surprised to see how minimal and organized they were. His tablet was exposed with a series of information already written out as he was just adding to pre existing notes he had already written before the lecture started.

They were all neatly organized with his straight lined handwriting and not a single ounce of color or doodle was on them. Just a simple shade of light where certain words were ‘highlighted’ as important.

They look so professional. You thought as Lucien picked up his stylist and calmly added a bit of information to them. You watched him in awe for a moment, the way he was resting his hand on his chin,the engagement in his eyes and the way he quickly jotted down the information in tune with the professor's quick voice. It was clear that he had done this for a while and that he was good at his routined way of note taking.

When you finally snapped out of your trance you noticed how quickly the professor was on a new topic from the last thing you had written down and glancing at your notes once more than the black board ahead of you. You realized that you were so far behind that the information you had written wasn’t even on the board anymore!

For a moment you were ready to panic until you realized your position. You weren't in school anymore so taking notes wasn’t essential.

And with that you began to zone off again, letting your egotistical thoughts build up and up. The elder man before you had spent his whole life, in your opinion, becoming something great. He went off to college, got a degree, became an educator and he knew so much!! Even Lucien who just at the age of 26 became a well renowned neuroscientist! Yet here you were...the one who took over their fathers business. You started thinking about all the times an episode idea didn’t even make it past the first meeting with Victor and how you almost lost the entire funding of your show! You sunk down in your seat, spinning the ink of your pen over one of the cute bunnies...Was I ever good at anything? You wallowed to yourself unaware that Lucien’s soft glances were reading you like a book.

He knew instantly that you were down. The way you were slouching, the unconscious pout on your lips, your eyes shining;trying to hold back tears, and the way your feet stopped patting with excitement from under the table.

After the lecture was over and you and Lucien were walking hand in hand down the halls he spoke up. “Was the lecture too hard for you to follow? You suddenly looked sad?” He said as his eyes were stuck on you.

You groaned before slouching your head on Lucien’s shoulder, furrowing your brow. “Nothing ever gets past you huh?” You mumble as Lucien brushes back your hair, waiting for you to speak out your worries.

You began your rant, talking about how amazing he is and the professor and how you enjoy learning about science and sitting in on all these cool lectures but you aren’t the expert and that you feel it is pointless to learn something that you are not good at. It then lead you to feeling that you are not the best at anything. Lucien listened to every ins and outs of your problems, holding your hand tightly in his. Once you finished with a long sigh he spoke up.

“You think that I’m the best neuroscientist in the world?” He said softly as you nod. “Of course, your 26 and you own your own research center, you travel the world, who wouldn’t think that you are-”

“But I’m not.” he said softly as the two fo you stopped walking. You glanced up at him as the same calm and sweet smile stayed on his face. “If not now someone better will come along and do greater than me but even then they won’t be the best...because someone will come along and become greater than they are. After all Science is built on advancement. When something is deemed as a fact that is helpful yes, but people are much more complex. Personally I think that if you choose to see life as becoming the best at something then you are viewing everyone and everything around you as competition. But your idea of greatness is not the same as someone else's, what you may see as failure and a fault someone else sees as empowering and inspiring, and that includes how people see you. I think that you are the best at what you do but that shouldn’t matter...since you know yourself better than anyone else. I think that you should be more proud of how much you've grown. Being the best only brings temporary happiness. While growth is ever changing and there's no limit to how it should happen and what needs to be done in order to grow.” Your face softened as Lucien spoke. You felt your thoughts lighten as a soft voice in your head kept telling you that he was right. I see Lucien as the greatest and most amazing person in the world but he doesn’t… he sees. “You.” his princely voice said softly. “If I had to choose who the greatest person in the world is to me...it’s you.” He added before kissing your forehead.

You could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as his warm lips laid gently on your skin. His rainy scent engulfing you while your hands slowly pulled him into an embrace. He hugged you back before brushing your hair lightly through his fingertips.

Even in this moment with Lucien you have learned so much, you have grown...a sweet smile fluttered across your lips as your heart grew with pride. “I am so proud of me, and how much I have grown.” You whispered.

KIRO | CH03 | 0 : 00 : 05

✨For those who are feeling lonely amongst hard times.✨

You slouched at the front door of your apartment. Bags in your hands, coat slung between your arms, hair a mess and dark circles slowly morphing you into a racoon.

You kicked off your shoes to see your red and slightly swollen feet. An emergency had happened that caused you to stop and change every course of your life for the next month and a half. Having to make phone calls between friends, family, and companies ensuring the safety and calmness of everyone around you.

You had already spent hours reassuring worried hearts that you had forgotten to give yourself a moment to breathe and process everything. And now with this short time to finally be with yourself the stress, anxiety, worry and guilt flooded through you like a river as your eyes dropped like a waterfall.

You had been trying so hard to remain optimistic for everyone else that your own feelings were casted aside and now here you were, alone and finally able to feel them. Only for the idea of being alone to make it worse. Sliding your way down and onto the floor beginning your crying session. Soon the buzzing of your phone scared you half to death. The handsome face of Kiro and his bright golden smile popped up on your screen. Oh great. You thought seeing the FaceTime message as you quickly dried your face and answered the call.

“OHHH My (Miss) Chip(s)!!~” Kiro’s voice sang. “Hey,” he pouted. “Why can’t I see your face? It’s so dark. And you’re sniffling...Don’t tell me you caught a cold again?” he said.

“Ah-s-sorry. I’ll turn on the lights.” Your voice cracked as Kiro’s playful expression quickly turned to worry. You flicked on the lights and turned the screen to your face, rubbing your nose with your sleeve. Seeing yourself on the small screen of your phone, there was no way for you to deny that you were crying. Your eyes a puffy red mess (and makeup smeared down your cheeks).

“Ah...I was um..” You try to explain as You watched Kiro already up and heading for his jacket.

“Don’t worry ____. I’m on my way, you can tell me when I get there. Have you been crying for long?” he said as his cute voice now had a alert and serious tone.

“N-No...not too long. I just got home.” You say softly.

“Don’t hang up. I don’t want you to cry by yourself. Next time you are feeling sad, let me know.”

“Y-You don’t have to come over.” you say feeling like you were about to cry again.

“Don’t say that. Of course I do. It is a hero’s job to help those in need. Especially when it’s someone they love.” Kiro said as you bit your lip softly, you couldn’t deny him of this.

When he finally arrived at your place you cleaned up a bit as you opened the door to an tight embrace. His hug was warm and inviting as your hand tightening on his back the moment Kiro pressed your head to his shoulder. You began to cry again. “It’s okay...I am here...you can cry now.” He said in a low voice. With that you spilled out your heart as kiro held you closely, his blonde hair tickling the edge of your ear.

Once you had calmed down enough to talk the two of you sat beside one another on the loveseat in your living room.

You expressed all of your pain that you had been repressing about the situation and although you didn’t mind that people were using you for support, you never realized how tough it would be to take on everyone's pain and have no one to help you through yours. Kiro held your hand quietly, hearing out all your worries as the rings on his fingers were slowly starting to warm up by the embrace of yours.

Once you had finished what you needed to say Kiro gently pressed your head to his chest, his arms holding you in a loving embrace.

“Thank you...for sharing with me your worries. I know that it’s not easy having to take on other people's burdens but you aren’t alone...and I will always listen to you and I will always be here when things get tough. I want to be that someone you rely on to lift your spirits. You are the person that I want to make the happiest. Even when you feel like no one sees or hears you struggling, just remember that I do see you.” Kiro said in a soft voice as your eyes watered once again. You hugged him tightly, nodding your head as you felt like a large weight was just lifted off your shoulders.

Kiro reminded you that you belong and that there is so much value in how hardworking and kind you are.

And that this strength wasn’t something you need to burden through alone.

✨Thank you for reading and I hope that this helped any of you guys going through a tough time who just needs a bit of encouragement.

My DM’s are always open too and I’ll gladly hear anyone out. 🖤

Sometimes all we need is just someone to vent to. 🖤

✨Check out more of my writings on my ✨master list✨

✨ If you like my blog and want to see more of me check out my other social’s, it would mean a lot to me~~ https://linktr.ee/Yvainegeline

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

Text

With Cherries On Top

Chapter 2: The Proposal & The Deal

Summary/Author's Notes: Oh.my.god. the response from part one was fucking WILD. I love you guys so so so much! As always, dedicated to @rae-gar-targaryen. She’s had a bad week, yall, go show her some love. <3 ITS WHAT MAX WOULD DO.

Max explains himself and gets down on one knee to ask the big question. Your trust is tested as he tries to pull a fast one, but he makes you an offer you cannot refuse.

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU) Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: Language, flirting, SEXUAL TENSION, Max Phillips is a bastard man, vampire themes

Chapters [1] [MASTERLIST]

Max finally caught up with you and convinced you to go with him to the immigration office. The entire cab ride across town you were seething. Neither of you spoke, and when the cab parked in front of the Federal Plaza building you got out. Glad to leave him to pay for the cab and top it off with slamming the car door in his face. You heard him growl his frustration but didn’t stop as you stormed into the building and he had to jog to keep up.

"Will you slow down?" He snarled and you ignored him.

How could he be this egregiously shameful? You knew Max was cunning. That he would do anything to make the sale, to close a deal, but this--this was a whole other level, even for him.

In hushed tones, in his office, as you threw your items in your purse, he had explained that he was being deported. That the government had caught him in a technicality of his after-life status versus his human one, and although you agreed it seemed to be a petty place to draw the line, his way of kicking you into the fire with him made you not want to help. Did he deserve to be sent back to Romania? Probably not. But forcing you into marriage? Or an even better term for it would be forcing you into fraud. The two of you were breaking the law and he didn’t even have the balls to ask you first.

The immigration office was jammed packed with multiple lines of people waiting for a free attendant and dozens of others waiting in chairs, looking over reading material and playing on their phones. This was going to take forever. Apparently, Max had other plans, as he grabbed your hand and pulled you both to the front of the line. No one stopped him, no one questioned him as you tried to make your face as apologetic as possible to the people already in line that were giving you dirty looks. He asked for the fiancee visa application and the next thing you knew the two of you were being led into a cramped office in the back and looking over the desk at a very stoic, older, government worker.

“Sorry about the wait, folks,” the older man said as he pulled out a file folder filled with papers. “Busy day.”

“Of course, of course,” Max nodded, crossing his ankle over his knee and giving the man his best smile. “We appreciate you meeting with us on such short notice.”

The older man looked Max up and down slowly and smirked--whatever Max was selling, he wasn’t buying and the realization made you want to lean over the chair and vomit on the floor. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay, so, I only have one question for you,” he continued to smirk as he closed your file and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Are you both committing fraud, in order to keep Mr. Phillips here from being deported back to Romania and losing his position as CFO at his company?”

“What!”

“Ridiculous!”

Max and you both scoffed at the same time and shook your heads as you waved your hands in front of you and he rolled his eyes, giving a good-hearted laugh.

“Mr.--” Max looked at the nameplate on the desk as he leaned forward and addressed the man. “Yates. That is an absurd assumption. We are just a couple that want to get married and I assure you, our case will be the easiest one you have all day. So, just tell us what we need to sign and we can get out of your hair.”

You wished more than anything you had the courage to grip Max’s leg and beg him to shut up. His normal bullshit was not going to get either of you any favors with this man and if he didn’t tread carefully, you both were about to be in a world of trouble. You knew you wouldn't last in jail, but Max really wouldn't last in jail. That mouth that never seemed to stop talking would get him stabbed...wait, maybe jail was a good idea after all.

"What makes you think we're lying, Mr. Yates?" You asked, crossing your ankles and moving your legs to the side comfortably.

"A tip that came in this afternoon from a concerned citizen--"

"His name wouldn't happen to be Evan, would it?" Max asked.

"As a matter of fact, it is."

"I knew it. He is nothing more than a very disgruntled employee who is out to get me." Max shook his head and waved it away as if that discredited the tip. "I fired him this morning."

The other man scribbled down a couple of notes and went back to pressing his fingertips together and leaning his elbows on the desk. He heaved a large sigh and suddenly looked very tired.

“Here’s what’s going to happen next, you two. I am going to schedule you an interview for next week. I am going to put you both in separate rooms. I am going to ask you a series of questions that real couples would know all of the answers to.” He said the term ‘real’ in a pointed way and looked directly at you, making your stomach fall to your feet. “And that’s the easy part--”

“Okay, seems fair.” Max started, but Mr. Yates ignored him.

“Then I am going to dig deeper. I’m going to check your phone records, your emails, talk to your friends and family--your coworkers. If anything, and I mean anything, seems out of order or does not match your story, you,” he pointed to Max. “Will be deported to Romania indefinitely. And you, young lady,” he turned and pointed to you. “Will be fined two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars with a minimum five year sentence in federal prison.”

You swallowed so hard it hurt as you felt your vision narrow, your body threatening you with the idea of passing out. You felt like you were sitting inside a vacuum, like a larger entity had sucked all of the air out of the already too small office space.

Prison. It wasn’t enough that you had been at his beck and call for the last five years. If this all went sideways, Max Phillips, in a last act of extreme selfishness was going to get you sent to prison.

“So, that being said, Ms. (y/l/n),” he smiled and crossed his arms as he addressed you. “Do you want to talk to me? Tell me what’s really going on here.”

“What’s really going on--” you started, your heart hammering in your ears so loudly that you were sure Mr. Yates could hear it.

You looked at Max and thoughtp about how you wanted to do this. Could you really throw him under the bus and let them ship him away from his home? Could you match his heartlessness and protect yourself above all else? No. Despite how much he deserved it, that wasn’t how you operated. He had insisted on dragging you into this mess and now it seemed, at least for the time being, you were going to have to play along. He looked at you with those soft, coffee colored eyes, so full of anticipation that you almost groaned. Instead you reached over the arm of his chair and patted his leg.

“What’s really going on is that Max and I are getting married,” you squeezed his knee and saw him give a full body sigh of relief out of the corner of your eye. “We just couldn’t tell anyone.”

“And why not?”

“Because he’s a vampire,” you shrugged. “And we were worried how my family would take it.”

“I see,” Mr. Yates leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms waiting for you to continue.

“And--” you, glanced at Max and back. “Because of the promotion.”

“Promotion?”

Both Max and the older man said at the same time and you steeled your resolve and continued.

“Yes, I am in line for a big promotion, and both of us felt if our relationship went public before that it would look unprofessional. Right, honey?” You looked at Max and although you were smiling, your eyes dared him to say otherwise.

“That’s...right, dear.” He nodded, putting his hand over yours on his knee.

Mr. Yates looked at the both of you for what felt like a very long time. You kept your smile even for so long, your cheeks started to ache. The hand you had on Max’s thigh offered a small amount of comfort and you allowed it to ground you, to center your mind as you did your best to look like the definition of truthfulness.

“Well,” he sighed and opened up a filing cabinet and pulled a very large binder full of papers for the two of you. “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. Here are the questions you could be asked, there are about three hundred of them--along with all of the forms that need to be filled out, references we will need, and copies of your identifications. As well as,” he paused and looked pointedly at the both of you. “The marriage certificate.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you leaned forward and took the binder from him.

“Have either one of you told your families about this, happy little arrangement?” he asked as he gestured between the two of you.

Max laughed and shook his head. “No, my parents are dead. Only child, too. It’s a real shame.”

Mr. Yates, chuckled dryly, not understanding how such information could be considered funny. “And what about you, Ms. (L/n)? Are all of your relatives dead as well?”

“Mine?” you put a hand to your chest. “No, no, they are alive--”

“We were actually going to tell them the news this weekend,” Max chimed in and you looked at him in surprise. “It’s grandma’s 85th birthday--we thought it would be a nice surprise.”

You stared at him like he had grown a second head. How did he know about your grandmother’s birthday? The idea that Max paid more attention to you than you thought was sitting uneasily in your stomach, but you continued to smile and nodded in agreement.

“We’re flying up to, (y/n)’s parents house.” Max took the binder as you handed it to him.

“And where is that?”

“Alaska.” You said simply, crossing your legs and adjusting the hem of your pencil skirt, reveling in the way Max’s entire face fell.

“Ah-ah-las-kah?" Max stuttered and glared at you. "Alaska." He cleared his throat and repeated.

You returned his intense look of malice with an overly satisfied smile. It felt good to ruffle those feathers, to catch him off guard and see him out of his element.

“Well, I wish you both a safe trip,” Mr. Yates stood up to show you the door and the both of you mirrored him. “I’ll call to schedule your visa interview after what I’m sure will be a lovely week.”

Leaving the federal office felt like you were walking in slow motion. You vaguely heard Max put his bluetooth on his ear and take a call, letting his boisterous voice echo in the too loud, too crowded lobby. Going out onto the street and feeling the cool air on your skin didn’t make breathing any easier as you thought about what just happened. In your trance you almost dropped the heavy glass door on Max’s face.

He hung up the call and started talking like everything was just a normal day back at the office, like the two of you hadn’t just been threatened with the American government absolutely ruining your lives.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said as he put his sunglasses on to protect him against the already very overcast autumn sky. “What’s going to happen is we are going to run up to your parent’s place, act like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend--we can stay in a hotel and that will make it easier to fake. Make sure you use the miles for the tickets--”

“Max…”

“I will pay to have you fly first class, but only, and I mean only if you use the miles. If I don’t get rewards, then we aren’t going.” He pulled his sleeve up slightly and looked at his watch. “Also, please confirm they offer vampire accommodations, because I swear if they put me next to some old hag like last time and I have to smell her O-positive, diabetic, dustiness for six hours--I’m. Going. To. Lose. It.”

“Max--”

He stopped as he realized he had walked quite a ways in front of you and he turned around. “Why aren’t you taking notes?”

Your jaw dropped and you stomped over to him and shoved the binder against his chest with enough force that he stumbled back a step. “I’m sorry! Were you not in that room with me just now? Were you not fucking listening??” You were almost screaming and he looked around quickly before stepping closer and towering over you.

“You look crazy, calm down--”

“Calm down? You have some neve, Max. Some. Fucking. Nerve.” With each word you poked your manicured finger into the middle of his chest, on top of his stupid, yellow tie. He grabbed your wrist to stop you but you yanked out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.”

“Listen,” he took a breath and spoke to you like the ticking time bomb that you were. “You did well back there. That thing about the promotion? That was genius. He really bought that.”

Evan’s words rang back through your head and you took a step back looking at Max. He's never going to promote you. You know that, right? Five years. For five years you had done everything for him. You had done the work of an executive level salesman and made a secretary's salary. And for what? To constantly be missing out on important things in your life? Friends. Family. Dating. You couldn't remember the last time you had actually been on a date with anyone. Everything seemed to revolve around the man in front of you--and you had reached your limit. All of this was asking too much of you.

When you finally spoke, your voice was flat and even. “I meant it. I want that promotion.”

“To what? Evan’s job?” He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m the one that is facing a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and jail time--that changes things. I want Evan’s old job and a thirty percent raise.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet as you held his gaze.

Max moved his bottom jaw from one side to the other, a tick you had often seen and come to realize meant he was mulling over his options. “Fifteen.”

“Forty.” You counter offered the wrong way and he gave a hard bark of laughter. “Okay, fine. I’m walking. You’re screwed. Goodbye, Max--have fun in Romania.”

No sooner did you turn around did Max lunge forward and grab you by the upper arm. “Okay! Okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

He looked at you pointedly and pulled you into the front of his body. His eyes shimmered for a brief moment and his lips turned upward into a small grin. “Unless--you’ll take something else? Plus, ten percent of course, I’m not a monster.”

You felt as if a small breeze was whispering against the nape of your neck, and you fought the urge to bat at it like a fly. The press of his voice worked its way into your ear and you could almost feel it trying to go deeper. When you realized what he was doing, you gasped and slapped him across the face. “Did you just try and hypnotize me??”

“Ah, shit!” he released your arm and put his hand to his cheek. “Did it not work?!”

“Go to hell, Max!” You turned once again and started walking down the sidewalk, ignoring the faces of the people that were nosily watching your heated exchange.

“Why the fuck didn’t it work--” he mumbled, continuing to rub his cheek and coming to his senses once he saw you putting more distance between the two of you. “Hey!” He jogged quickly and passed you easily in your high heels, turning around so he could look you in the eye. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Typical,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“I can’t do this without you,” he held his hands up defensively and gave you an almost pleading look. “I’ll give you the promotion, and the raise. If I’m not at that company, they will get rid of you like that,” he snapped his fingers and you clenched your jaw. “I don’t want to go back to Romania. I didn’t have such a good trip the last time.” He smiled way too large, an action more for the purpose of pulling back his lips so he could gesture to his fangs. “So, will you do this?”

"I have a few conditions."

"Name them."

"We do this my way, and on my terms. This is my family that we are lying to, so we will tell them when I want, and how I want."

"Done. Next?"

"How did you know it was my grandmother's birthday?"

"You think I can't hear every time your family calls and begs you to quit? Even without superhuman hearing--you sit right next to my office." He made a gesture of his hand pantomiming a small distance.

"Fine."

"Fine." You both said one right after the other in shared stubbornness and mutual disdain. "Anything else?"

You crossed your arms under your breasts slowly and straightened your shoulders. “Ask me nicely.”

“Ask you what? I just--”

“Ask me to marry you.”

Max paused and leaned back a bit, rubbing a hand down his face and chuckling like your request was unbelievable. “Uh. Fine. Fine.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Will you marry me?”

“Like you mean it,” you insisted. “On your knees.”

He gaped at you like a fish out of water. His large hand rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around embarrassed by the idea that any of the hundreds of people on the street could see what he was about to do. He looked at the ground to make sure there wasn't anything obviously sticky lurking on the pavement before slowly getting down on one knee.

"There. Happy?" He gestured to himself and you nodded.

"Oh, extremely."

He sighed and bit his tongue with what he really wanted to say as he looked up at you from his spot on the ground. "So, will you marry me?"

"I believe I said, ask me nicely. Sales. Is. Seduction. Right, Max?" You clenched your fists and brought them into your chest, mimicking his speech from earlier in a most obnoxious way. "Seduce me, then. Really sell it."

Max blew a heavy sigh in the form of a loud raspberry and cracked his neck. He shook out his arms in a dramatic display like he was getting ready to perform and finally looked up at you. His expression was genuine enough. His eyes were warm and his smile small, and he even took your hand and held it out in front of him lightly.

"Sweetheart--(y/n), beautiful, intelligent, decadent, sexy, vibrant--"

"Enough." You said with a frown. "Remember, I'm a person, not a dessert."

He continued as if you hadn't interrupted his string of praise. "Will you please, with cherries on top, marry me?"

You tapped your chin in mock contemplation and gave a single nod. "Okay. Yes. Although I don't appreciate the sarcasm." You let go of his hand and let it fall to his side as you adjusted your purse on your shoulder. "Get me a ring. If we break the news to my mother and there's no ring, she will go bezerk."

"Fair enough."

"See you at the airport, Max."

You walked passed him without another word, leaving the most powerful man you had ever met on his knees in the middle of the New York street.

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#max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips x reader #pedro pascal #pedro character fic #with cherries on top #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #max phillips x you #the proposal

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genevievemd · 3 years

Note

1 and 2 for Ethan and Genevieve from 50 Ways To Say “I Love You” prompts

1. “Be Safe”, 2. “Make sure to come back to me, okay?”

A/N: This starts out super angsty, which I think we all expected when you sent me these prompts lol Don’t worry tho, there’s a happy-ish ending.

Also this got away from me and ended up a bit long. Sorry not sorry.

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Genevieve McClure)

No warnings, but there is a swear word or two. Gen swears when she’s mad and Ethan has made her MAD - we don’t keep secrets from our partners in this house.

50 Ways to Say “I Love You” Prompt List // Previous Prompts

He’s been avoiding her all week, coming up with a million excuses to leave the room every time they’re alone, not saying a word to her unless it's about a patient. It’s making her anxious. A heavy wave of uncertainty hanging over her. The last time Ethan acted this way, was a year ago, when she first joined the team. When they were nothing.

Genevieve knows something is wrong, can feel it deep in her bones. They were so far past this point. Past the longing glances and unfiltered heart ache, settled into a quiet commitment of public kisses and unbridled joy. But something has brought them back here and it’s wormed its way into her mind to the point where she can’t focus.

They’ve been in a team meeting for the last hour, sitting on opposite sides of the table. A rare occurrence these days, Ethan almost always sits in the chair next to her. Far enough to stay professional but close enough to reach for her hand if he wanted to.

But not this week. This week he’s sat across from her, never once looking her in the eye. Genevieve’s tried everything in the last hour to get him to look at her, to the point where she hasn’t heard a word of what Mendoza has said. She can’t focus on anything but the steady ache in her chest that grows with every new inch of distance between her and Ethan.

“So we’ll test for the usual suspects and go from there. Team dismissed.” Ethan’s voice breaks her out of her thoughts. His deep baritone echoing in her ears like a scream in a cave, ricocheting off her heart and fracturing everything in its wake.

Genevieve sees them all stand and she rises from her chair as well, glancing at Ethan as she gathers her things. He still won’t look at her, not even for a second.

“You should talk to him.” Baz’s voice is quiet, standing next to her with a sympathetic look on his face. He looks back at the door, watching Mendoza leave before continuing. “It’s not like you two to be so far apart like this. I hate to see you so upset.”

She looks quickly between Ethan and Baz, letting out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Is it that obvious?”

“To me, yes. I don’t think Mendoza’s picked up on your relationship yet or if he has he’s made no indication that he knows. But I can see how upset you are. Talk to Ethan, if only to give yourself some piece of mind.”

“Thanks, Baz.”

He gives her another comforting smile and gentle pat on the shoulder before he gathers his things and leaves. Genevieve takes a deep breath before looking over again at Ethan, sitting at his desk with his entire focus on the laptop in front of him.

“Let me know when you get the lab results back, McClure.” His voice is stoic, cold. The way it used to be, when he was so adamant that they couldn’t be together, sending another wave of fear through her.

“Of course.” Genevieve stares at him for another moment, swallowing back the overwhelming urge to cry when he refuses to look up from the screen. She closes her eyes and walks to the door, her heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of her chest.

Her mind is racing with a million different reasons why Ethan’s suddenly become so distant, the loudest of all being that he wants to end things. That he’s finally gotten bored with her and she’s no longer something he wants.

Genevieve knows, deep down, that the thought only comes from the dark corners of her mind. The after shocks of her father’s betrayal, the ever present thought that just like him, Ethan will one day get bored and cheat or leave her all together. Its an unprovoked and baseless thought, regardless of Ethan’s distance for the past week, he has never once showed any sign of repeating her father’s mistakes. But no matter how hard she tries, she can never truly quiet the voice in her head.

She grips the door handle, knuckles turning white as the thoughts make her feel like she’s on the spin cycle of a washing machine.

“Are you going to break up with me?” The words fly out of her mouth before she registers what she’s said.

“What?”

“Are you going to end this?” Genevieve finally turns from the door, eyes watering as she faces him. He’s standing up from the desk, his face contorted in confusion.

“Why would I - where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know, Ethan. Maybe from the fact that you’ve barely spoken to me all week.” She can feel the heartbreak slowly turn to rage, her eyes turning darker with every word she speaks. “You can’t look at me and any time I try to get close to you, you move away. You haven’t kissed me, touched me in any way, in a week. What am I supposed to think?”

“Genevieve,” Her name comes out in a terrified whisper, his eyes filled with guilt. “Come sit down for a minute, we should talk.”

“Oh my god, you are…” Her hand reaches for the door handle, steading herself against the cold glass. “I’m such an idiot.” She moves to open the door when she sees Ethan’s hand slam against it, blocking her only exit.

“You’re not - Gen, I’m not… just come sit down. Please.”

“No.” She shakes her head, a lump forming in her throat as her vision blurs. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to do this standing in front of the door.”

“Well that’s too bad. Either you tell me what’s going on with you or you let me leave.”

“Genevieve, please.”

“Move your hand.”

“I’m leaving.” It comes out in a rush, his eyes roaming across her face. “I have to go back to the Amazon. They’re setting up a clinic and need me to help oversee its opening.”

“For how long?”

“Six weeks. Eight at the most.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She can feel her hands starting to shake, the anger rising to the surface. They weren’t supposed to have secrets, they were supposed to be the opposite of her parents. Truthful and caring.

“I… I didn’t know how or what to say.”

“So once again you were just going to pull away and leave without saying a word?” Genevieve moves away from the door walking to the other side of the office. “That’s… I can’t fucking believe you right now.”

“I would’ve told you.”

“Really? When?” She turns to look at him, the guilt on his face making her heart break. “Before or after you pushed me far enough away that you inevitably broke up with me. Or were you hoping that I would save you the trouble and leave you instead?”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is you doing this to me, again. Except this time, we’ve been dating for six months which makes it even worse.” He moves towards her but she steps back, looking up at the white tiled ceiling. Genevieve closes her eyes and takes a breath. “When are you leaving?”

“Two weeks.”

“Wow. So it’s clearly been planned for a while if you already have everything in order.” She shakes her head in disbelief, her eyes burning with fury and unshed tears. “Well, glad to know I mean so little to you that I wasn’t the first person to know.”

“Don’t do that.” He moves towards her again, his voice raised to match her own. “Don’t diminish what we are like that.”

“I’m not diminishing anything, Ethan, you are!” She wipes a stray tear from her face, forcing herself to swallow back the rest. She won’t cry over him, not anymore. “You kept this from me and weren’t going to tell me until the last minute. And then spent one of the last weeks we have together pushing me away.”

“Because I don’t how to leave you, alright! I thought that if I distanced myself enough the thought of leaving you for two months would hurt less.”

She scoffs, wanting to laugh at his inconsideration for her own feelings. “How is this relationship ever going to work if you constantly shut me out when things get tough. We’re supposed to be partners, Ethan. This feels like the exact opposite of that.”

“I know that but every time I thought about telling you, it felt like I couldn’t breath. I’d look at you and it was like…”

“So instead you decided to keep me in the dark until the very last minute?”

“I’m sorry, Gen.”

“You’re sorry a lot, Ethan.”

“I know. I’m trying, I really am.” He reaches for her again, but she doesn’t pull back this time. Instead she leans into his touch, letting her eyes fall closed as he hold her head in his hands. “I should’ve told you the minute I found out, I know that. It was an asshole move to keep it from you.”

“It was.” She looks up at him, tears falling down her cheeks. She sighs loudly, quickly throwing her arms around his neck. Pulling him as close as she can. His arms wrap tightly around her, his hands flat against her spine. “Promise me that you’ll be safe.”

“I promise.” His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, fingers tangling themselves in her hair.

They hold each other for what feels like hours, her feet barely touching the ground as he holds her even closer - trying to keep as little space between them as they can.

“Make sure to come back to me, okay?” She feels her feet touch the ground as he loosens his hold on her. “Don’t go falling in love with some tall amazonian woman who’s like ten times pretty than me.”

Ethan pulls back, a soft smile on his face as he runs this thumb along her cheekbone. “First off, in what world would that ever be a possibility? And second, you are still and will always be the most beautiful woman I have ever met.”

“You say that now, but I’ve seen Wonder Woman and -”

He cuts her off, pressing his lips hard against her own. She feels the tears coming back, prickling behind her eyes as she kisses him back with even more force.

Ethan rests his forehead against hers, his breath ragged and his eyes filled with warmth. “I’m coming back to you, Gen, and I promise to never leave you like this again.”

“You can’t promise me that, be realistic for a second.” Genevieve steps out of his embrace, wincing silently at the hurt her move causes him. “There's always a chance of you being needed to fly off somewhere and save the world. It’s part of being the best at what you do. So don’t promise me something you know you can’t keep.”

He opens his mouth to argue but closes it quickly, giving her a soft nod instead.

“But I do need you to promise that you will stop shutting me out.” She waits for him to meet her eyes, needing him to truly hear and understand her. “Because the next time you do, Ethan, I won’t forgive you and you will lose me.”

“I can do that. I don’t want to lose you, Gen, that’s the last thing I want.”

She walks back to him, leaning up on the tips of her toes until their faces are touching. His hands find her waist, fingers digging into her skin. “Then you go and do your job. Call me every chance you get and when you come back to me there won’t be anymore secrets between us. Ever again.”

“Never again.”

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

a/n: I didn’t plan on this being...well this. But here we are. Still riding the angst train. Clearly I can’t get off lol. I promise the next 50 ILY prompt will be fluffy. Love you guys so much-Sara

(also I’m going to make a secondary “masterlist” with all the completed prompts once i have them done, I have like 8 more to finish.)

tag list:

@queencarb, @overwhelminglyaquarius, @me-and-my-choices, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @crazy-loca-blog, @a-crepusculo, @drakewalkerfantasy, @ohchoices, @adrex04, @udishaman, @drariellevalentine, @custaroonie, @archxxronrookie, @terrm9, @maurine07, @openheartthot, @gryffindordaughterofathena, @aworldoffandoms, @caseyvalentineramsey, @dulceghernandez, @elwetritsche75, @emotionalswift2, @thegreentwin, @starrystarrytrouble, @utterlyinevitable, @angela8754, @fireycookie, @sizzlingcashherohumanoid, @jooous, @3riche, @open-heart-ramseyyy

#ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan x gen #50 ILYs #Anonymous

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kneamet · 3 years

Text

Delusion (5/5)

Trigger Warning: alcohol, obsession

Summary: she was the only girl in his band whose singing he loved so much. She was the person he truly respected. Andy Miles was someone Hank Williams had an unrelenting obsession with.

Chapter five: Lovesick Blues

POV Hank

He was glad to breathe a sigh of relief in his free chest, feeling as if he were the freest man in the world. Hank was finally able to remove this unpleasant burden that weighed on him in the bonds of an unloved marriage. A marriage that literally drowned him down.

He was glad that he was able to go through everything in court through the proceedings and slander in his direction, written and claimed from Audrey. As if she knew anything about him and understood him at all. And now, Hank, being completely free, can do whatever he wants and can show the love of the girl he loves.

The guy smiled, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds and stopping moving. The beloved girl who will soon become his wife. She would be someone he would cherish and protect beyond measure. Andy will be everything to him, after he finally gets the recognition from the public.

"Why are you frozen, Hank?" There was a sneer from his right, and he turned his head in the direction of the intended speech, realizing that he could have listened to that voice for years without interrupting. He wouldn't care what she said. The main thing is the sound.

Williams was sure that once he and Andy were finally a couple, exchanging light formalities and vows to keep, he would definitely have her humming to him and reading aloud, just enjoying herself.

It was a joy to Hank to hear her voice, soft but slightly hoarse and tired, after a lot of rehearsals, from which he was very tired, but always enjoyed it. He was always so soothing. So gentle and, you might even say, caring, unlike Audrey, a voice that always made him mad.

He knew that he had invited her to the studio just so that she wouldn't yell and make him lose his temper, or else he might have flared up like a match and wouldn't have stopped in his anger, which would have continued to eat at him from the inside out.

Audrey's voice was really terrible. Unpleasant, eating into the brain and piercing it into a million small particles.

Blinking a couple of times, Hank turned his attention to his beloved, who was sitting a foot away from him, looking at him with a puzzled look, slightly raising an eyebrow, which caused small, barely noticeable wrinkles to form on the bridge of her nose. It was very cute.

"It's fine," he says, grabbing the ketchup and quickly unscrewing the white cap. His gaze reluctantly shifts to Don, who just grins. "Here's what, I'm not buying," the guy finally says, pressing down on the middle of the plastic bottle with his fingers.

"A ketchup burger?" Helms asks, adjusting the gold-plated watch on his left hand and nodding at his friend's food.

"Ha, ha, yeah," Hank smiles, tossing the top of the bun on top of the rest and thinking that he probably wouldn't be able to eat the burger without the extra extra. It was sad that no one shared his taste in this kind of food. Although in his opinion, it was deliciously delicious.

"Sammy," he calls out to the guy who was sitting at the opposite table, carefully reading the list of songs listed in the ratings. "Well, have you finished reading?"

"No, I didn't start from the end," he doesn't miss the opportunity to mock, grinning slightly, to which Hank just smiles and continues the banter, in which they measure their sense of humor and ability to tease the other person.

"So they still teach you to read at school," Williams doesn't even look at him, watching out of the corner of his eye as Andy tries to choose where to start eating. The smile on the guy's face does not come off, but only becomes more noticeable.

There's nothing to be heard from the side, and Hank just raises an eyebrow. Just gave up? This is not like him and their usual conversations.

"Funny, Hank," Sammy nods and turns to face his friend, still clutching the small magazine that is important to the musician's fate. "You're not much older than me."

"I was older than you when I was born," Hank says, taking a sip of the scalding coffee, setting the cup down next to him. His attention is completely focused on saying something ironic to Pruett.

However, instead of continuing, the latter gets up from his chair and pushes it back to the table, going over to the others and tossing the publication with the open page, on which the latter has found something that will really attract the attention of the group.

"Look at this," Hank dusts off the small crumbs on his palm and picks up the magazine he's offered. "Take a look," everyone looks at Williams.

The guy's eyes widen. He can't believe it. I don't want to believe it. It seems that this is just a hoax. A lie that will be revealed later. No, it's not possible.

His palms trembled and began to sweat. His mouth fell open. My breath was knocked out, and my heart began to give a loud rhythm, interrupting any sounds and actions from the environment.

First place in popular. First place in sales. His song. His.

He covers his mouth with his hand, trying to hide his smile and the naive look that doubts what he sees. It's too much for him. It's not real and he's sure of it, handing the magazine to Andy, who accepts it happily and with some suspicion.

Hank finally got what he wanted. He was finally able to get at least something that he had worked so hard for for so long. His dream to get into the charts came true.

It remains to implement another one...

"Hank, this... God, congratulations, " Andy says, putting his left arm around him and hitting him on the shoulder with his right, trying to show support. Hank only sends a grateful smile to his beloved, but his gaze is still detached from what is happening.

"I'll tell you what," interrupting his thoughts and disbelief, he leans closer to the table, in the middle of which Miles has placed the magazine. Everyone moves towards him, starting to listen carefully. "And it's not all bullshit. If, after that, I don't get to the Opry," he points a finger at the publication and turns his head towards the girl, starting to laugh. "I'll give up the music," there's laughter, at which Hank slams his hand on the table and rocks back in his chair. "Honestly. Let them then look for me then for me and beg me to sing for them. And they'll have to beg me."

And he wasn't lying. Lying wasn't his style, especially when it came to something he'd devoted his entire adult life to. He can really give up music, even though he will have to listen to his mother's loud talk about how she spent a lot of time driving him around the states in his youth and showing his talent. He'll quit the music. The truth will leave if he does not achieve what he wants, but with him will be his beloved wife, whom he has been trying to get for so long.

***

It's raining. The gray ground seems to droop, and small puddles form on the old black asphalt. Countless splashes of raindrops can be heard in the muddy puddles. Steady noise. The impact of raindrops on the window pane causes unpleasant thoughts.

Andy exhales cigarette smoke, enjoying the weather. Its cloudy mood and the state of nature. She dusts off a bittersweet cheap cigarette and the weightless ash falls on her starched white shirt, which she rarely changes.

Taking another long drag, wanting to enjoy the bright aftertaste. Hank knows this feeling, and he often does it, even though he knows how disgusting it is sometimes. However, this taste of cheap tobacco was always poetic, which he certainly liked. But the guy himself preferred more expensive cigarettes and at some points did not quite understand how Miles even smokes them. The throat after them hurts, and they do not last long, because after the taste disappears altogether, forcing people to think about buying more expensive.

Williams was sure that as soon as he and the girl finally lived together, he would forbid her to buy cheap tobacco.

"You know, Andy..." Pausing for a moment and taking a deep drag on his own cigarette, he waited for her to look at him. "I just realized that inspiration is literally chasing me," he heard a small grin from the side, to which he only smiled, shaking his head and lowering it down, pursing his lips. A small habit that he couldn't get rid of and that showed up in moments of doubt or embarrassment.

"Has the muse finally visited?" Miles joked, and the tobacco smoke filled the small space around them again.

He liked to be near the girl he loved, to whom, if he could, he would dedicate all the odes and songs of the world. He liked to stand with her under the awning of the cafe, smoking the cheap cigarettes he smoked just for her, and watch the restless rain, wishing it would never end and they would enjoy each other's company.

"Yes..." sighed Hank, biting his lower lip with his front teeth and lowering his hand to brush off the ash.

The Muse he was talking about was literally everything to him, and he didn't know why Andy didn't take the hint. He was torn between telling his beloved what he had wanted for so long and remaining silent until the right time came. I didn't want to ruin the established idyll between them, but I didn't want to be silent either. Doubts tormented him for quite a long time and he simply could not properly settle his obsessive thoughts.

***

Hank wandered through the little-known streets, trying to calm down and come to his senses. In his relationship with Audrey, he was always disturbed by quarrels, which he literally hated. They were terrible and very annoying, literally infuriating. What difference does it make if she sings well or poorly? They would have achieved nothing anyway, knowing her not-so-simple nature, expressing defiance and defiance.

His head was down, and his hands were in his pockets, pulling down the trousers that were held at the old belt. His thoughts were currently occupied only with obsessions.

The light wind didn't bother him. Her hair was already disheveled, so there was nothing wrong with it becoming even more messy.

"...I got a feeling called the blues, oh Lord... " a young female voice was heard nearby. Hank raised his head, trying to catch the pleasant and melodious sound coming from. This aroused a genuine interest in him.

He liked that unusual voice. It clearly belonged to a woman, although no, most likely a girl, and a very young one at that. He sounded a little hoarse and tired. As if the person doing this was just trying to calm down and avoid boredom.

"...Since my baby said goodbye.. " came again, and Hank tried to find out where it was coming from. He had never heard a better voice in his life than this girl's.

Williams quickened his pace, straining his ears. It wasn't that far away, so it was safe to say that he wasn't far from the unknown with the amazing voice.

Hank's eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. He looked at her with awe and admiration. She was beautiful. But no, not even that, because she was so damn beautiful.

He had never seen anyone more beautiful than her. Even Audrey, his beloved wife, was terrible compared to this songbird. God, she was beautiful.

He knew that at this moment, in this second of his life, he didn't give a damn about anyone around him. He doesn't care about the problems, the world in general. All that matters is that he has seen the most beautiful stranger.

Her melodious voice caressed his ears. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and took a few sharp breaths, saying flattering words to the girl who was sitting on the bench right in front of him.

"Do you want to join my group?"

***

June 11, 1949

Grand Ole Opry, Nashville

He hadn't felt this kind of excitement in a very long time. This jitters that literally enveloped him from head to toe. A sense of fear, uncertainty, and nervousness filled his mind, making it difficult to think rationally.

His hands were sweating, and he began to shake in a slight tremor. He pressed his lips together, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

The only thing that gave him hope and comfort was the belief in what their celebration with Andy would be like today. He thought for a long time and finally realized in his life that the most important step in his life was to marry the girl he loved, which aroused in him the most beautiful and wonderful feelings on earth, expressing love and care. He would protect her.

He took a few sharp breaths, giving his heart time to calm down and stop pounding in his head. On his chest, on the suit, was sewn a small pocket, which at the moment was the most intimate and most sensual thing in the world. Ring. A ring that men give when they get engaged.

The guy exhaled sharply, turning to face his beloved, who was looking at him with an encouraging and encouraging look, as if calling for him to calm down and begin to cope with his difficult feelings. Squeezing his shoulder tightly, as if to show support, Andy smiled at him, and he just nodded at her.

"Hank, Andy!" A gruff voice is suddenly heard calling out to Williams. It doesn't take him long to realize that it's Fred. Smiling a tight smile, showing that he is supposedly not afraid of anything, the guy shifts the guitar case to the other hand and shakes the producer's offered hand. "How are you?"

"Not bad," Andy replies with a shrug, to which Hank is surprised, not understanding why she remains calm and not overwhelmed by excitement. Rose just chuckles at the comment.

"Don't worry, they may kill you, but they won't eat you," the man tries to defuse the tension by straightening his dark tie.

"It's comforting," Hank smiles, looking toward the stage. The stage on which he will perform. The stage on which his whole future uncertain fate will be decided.

"I'm very proud of you, Hank. I'm saying this as your friend, " Fred looks at his friend again, trying to express his support. Hank just looks at Miles, who is looking around the backstage area with a certain calmness and intensity. However, there is also a small, barely noticeable difference in her gaze... was it contempt?

"You can handle it, Hank," Andy looks around at the ceiling and turns his attention back to his dear friend with a slight grin. Williams pursed his lip again, feeling his palms begin to shake again with a slight tremor. She supports him. He exhaled. How nice to hear the support and dear words from a loved one.

"Thank you."

Everything that was happening was a blur to him. His brain still could not accept the information that he was worthy of and finally in his life got what he so ardently and long desired. He will finally get the recognition that he was striving for and then he will have one desire, or more correctly, it will be called a goal that he will need to achieve.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a guest of honor today and this is his first appearance on the Grand Ole Opry show," were the words of the announcer introducing Hank, and he knew that a lump had settled in his throat. He was afraid to sing. It was scary to get censured by people. It was scary to hear their arguments and opinions that he was a bad singer. "Let's welcome the guy who performed Lovesick Blues-Mr. Hank Williams!" He was not impressed by the joyful intonation of his voice and at the moment when he went on stage with a guitar that his mother gave him for his birthday, he was only interested in seeing Andy.

It was important for him to see her and understand that there was no need to worry. That she would be happy to support him and reassure him. That she would just be there to warm and protect his thoughts.

The applause was unexpected.

Williams was aware of the fact that the greeting of a new member of the show was always accompanied by applause, but it was still very pleasant and made him fall into confusion and let his head think that he was worth something.

The instant light blinded him. His lips trembled, and his knees buckled. Williams ' gaze darted to Andy, who only nodded at him, giving him a hopeful look at his moment of doubt in front of an audience that expected a great performance from him.

He gave her a soft smile of gratitude.

"Hi, I'm Hank Williams," he mumbled into the microphone that reverberated through the room, and he reached down to his guitar, running his fingers over it, caressing the strings, and wanting to draw the audience's attention to him. "Guys, turn it on," referring to the band with whom he had previously played the song.

His forehead was sweating and a drop of sweat ran down it. He swallowed and took a rare breath, touched the string again, and closed his eyes, hoping only that he would be received appropriately.

"I got a feelin' called the blues, oh Lords,

Since my baby said goodbye."

The only thing that warmed him with hope and calmed him down was his beloved, who was always ready to show support.

***

He just couldn't believe it. His brain couldn't process everything that had happened a few minutes ago. People took it well and were really inspired and enthusiastic. It was so unreal that he didn't want to think of it as real. It was probably just a dream that wouldn't happen again, but that he would remember for the rest of his life.

Hank couldn't stop smiling. He was so impressed that he felt over the moon when he heard the audience applauding and shouting the words he wanted.

Standing in the backstage area, which was lit by small lights, he just kept his eyes closed, arriving in voluptuous bliss.

"You were amazing, Hank," said a voice he'd known and loved for a long time. He glanced at Andy, who was standing next to him, watching him with a smile that was very often seen on her face.

Williams took a deep breath, grabbing the girl's hand and squeezing it lightly. He looked straight into her eyes, feeling that this was the moment that should have been years ago. The moment when they finally admit to each other in immeasurable love and live "happily ever after". No quarrels, no bickering, no problems. They will be a real family.

His free hand reached into his sewn-on pocket, taking out the small ring he had been searching for for a long time, but which at the moment was the most secret for him and his future wife.

He didn't care that people were looking at them. I don't give a damn. The main thing is that they will finally be reunited.

"You..." He really didn't know what to say, even apart from the fact that he had been preparing for this event for a long time, constantly rehearsing how he would confess. He wanted to express his love in an unimaginable confession, but words just weren't enough. My heart began to beat even faster. "Will you share the burden of life with me? Will you let me be your legal husband by putting this ring on your finger?"

His eyes full of hope were reflected in her eyes, which were full of incomprehension and fear.

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