#like i know a part of it is definitely the shows’ fault and their own unspoken biases
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WORST BEHAVIOR . . . dazai gets turned on watching you fight and just can’t help himself.
ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, possessive behavior, physical fighting, dazai is a little pervy, one use of ‘good girl’, semi-public & unprotected sex, choking (m!receiving), 2.5k w.c…mdni !!
p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ i know i’ve been promising this one for a while :< thank you for being patient with me !!
dazai already knows you indulge him; you let him get away with more than anyone else ever would. even outside of work, when he’s stripped of the authority that comes from being the youngest port mafia executive, the unspoken next in line for the throne of yokohama’s underworld, you always give into his whines of five more minutes or just one more kiss, i swear.
if you asked him, it was your own fault that he liked you so much; you were addicting. if the port mafia was a black hole where all light escaped, you were a twinkling star, falling from the sky right into dazai’s blood-soaked hands, and he loves you more than he ever thought he could. you weren’t quite an executive yet, but you were good at what you didー fighting.
there were only a few things in his meaningless life that made him less than bored: drinking with odasaku after work, harassing chuuya to tears, and watching you train, or better yet, getting to see you on a mission. his favorite part was that you always looked so, so hot while you were doing it.
he tries to act surprised when you’re both sent to take care of some low-level group, threatening to leak information that they definitely didn’t have. he didn’t really have to come with you on this assignment, it was below his level as an executive, after all, but he went through all of the trouble of leaking the address to one of the mafia’s “hideouts”, ensuring they’d show up at the dingy warehouse. it looms before the two of you, weathered from the salty air of the port, glass windows splintered and broken.
his coat flutters behind him with every giddy step, happily following after you and your little black skirt; maybe if he was lucky enough, he’d get a peek beneath it.
“are you sure you don’t have somewhere else to be right now?” you turn to look over your shoulder, reaching your hand out for him and intertwining your fingers loosely.
“there’s nowhere else i’d rather be.” he swings your arms between the two of you loosely. you only drop his hand to pull the rusty door open, greeted by three men, all expectantly waiting for you.
“my, my,” he whispers against the curve of your ear. “looks like we’ve been caught.”
“what do we have here? a little girl…” one of the men grins, looking at you in a way that made dazai want to kill him himself. the way his eyes drag up your body stirs an instinct to pull you behind him. “…and her guard dog?”
of course, he’d never put you in any real danger. this group was pathetic, and even at three to one, they didn’t stand a chance against you. dazai can predict all of their moves flawlessly anyway, and you have a implicit understanding that he never gives you more than he knows you can handle. his gun remains heavy against his side, always within his reachー just in case.
his fingers instinctively twitch towards the grip as one of the men reaches to grab you, but you don’t let him, seizing him by the forearm, leg sweeping him from behind and tossing him onto the ground. he falls to the concrete with a groan, looking up at you with a dazed scowl. the heel of your foot connects with his jaw before he can make another move, and he falls still against the ground.
one of the other men comes from the side, but you’re still too quick, catching him out of the corner of your eye and dodging with ease. you hit him hard enough for him to stumble, and you take the opportunity to grab him by the throat, knocking him backward. dazai’s eyes widen, the hair rising against the bandages wrapped around his arms and neck; he was almost jealous. the man chokes as you slam his back against the wall hard enough for his eyes to roll back and his body to crumple to the ground.
there’s only one man left, and your lip splits when his fist connects with your face. dazai’s eyes narrow, and the man’s glaze over in frustration as you recover quick enough to dodge his next hit, crouching low. you curl your leg around his waist from behind, pulling him down to the ground by the back of his shirt until he’s pinned beneath you.
you’re quick to get up, and when you’re far enough away for dazai’s comfort, he aims his gun and fires once, twice, then again before the man falls still.
the only thing heavier than dazai’s presence is his gaze, and you feel it prickle against your skin like the sharp edge of a knife from where he’s still standing in the doorway. when you meet his eyes, they’re red and glowing, and locked onto you.
he walks towards you, only the heavy sound of his shoes against the cement and your quiet breaths filling the warehouse. you swipe your thumb across your lip, breaking his gaze to look at the blood smeared into the crevices of your fingertip before dazai grabs your chin, tilting it upward. his tongue is warm as it traces along the cut before he presses it past your lips. your noise of surprise is muffled as he kisses you, the taste of your own blood permeating your mouth.
he walks you backward until the back of your heels hit the edge of the cold, concrete wall. his mouth never leaves yours, tracing the roof of your mouth and the edge of your teeth as if he doesn’t already have every part of you committed to memory. his cock strains against the fabric of his trousers, poking against your thigh as he presses himself flush against you.
“dazai,” you try to warn, but it isn’t very convincing, breathed out like a hymn; god, his name has never sounded so sweet. he sings your name back with a smile, groping you through your shirt with one hand as the other unbuckles his belt. he slides his fingers down your stomach until he pulls your shirt out from where it’s tucked into your waistband, flipping the hem of your skirt upward to expose those cute little panties. “we’re still…we’re here. in a dirty warehouse.”
“what’s wrong? there’s no one else around. you made sure of that, didn’t you?” he cups your chin between his fingers again and turns your head towards the enemies, bloodied and unconscious, chests heaving shallowly. he presses a kiss to your jaw, trailing up until his lips rest against the curve of your ear. “did you already forget? when their bloodstains haven’t even set into your clothes yet? i didn’t know you could be so cold.”
he unbuttons your shirt with the flick of his thumb, just enough to expose the curve of your tits, sitting oh so prettily in your bra. he skims his fingers against your panties, stroking the soft fabric where your most sensitive spot is covered. he pulls them aside, giggling against your ear when you’re already wet as he slips his middle and pointer fingers inside of you. your frown falters as he curls them with expert precision, eyelids fluttering in bliss as something achingly sweet ignites in your stomach.
“you know what i was thinking while i was watching you?” he drops his voice low, watching the way you sink your teeth into your bottom lip when he finds your clit, grinding the heel of his palm against it in pressured circles. “‘i wonder how it’d feel for her to choke me like that…to wrap these pretty little fingers around my neck and squeeze’.”
the lingering adrenaline of a fight and dazai’s body pressed so close to yours makes you feel dizzy. you part your lips to reply, but his hand is back on your jaw before you can respond, brushing his mouth over yours teasingly.
“do you have any idea what you do to me?” the pad of his thumb is cold against your warm cheek. he strokes himself with the slick collected on his fingers, pressing into you with the tip of his cock. his bangs fall over his eyes as he hangs his head and watches you stretch around the shape of him, disappearing inside your warm cunt inch by inch.
your nails dig into his arms, feeling his lithe muscles tense through the expensive fabric of his coat. he pries your hands off, fingers wrapping around your wrists as he pins them against the wall, holding them in place with one hand. his grin bites against your neck as you throw your head back and arch your hips instinctively.
“my good girl,” he breathes, sucking the skin beneath your ear between his teeth, soothing it with a kiss when you whine. “my sweet, perfect girl.”
“mhm,” you exhale, your own breath getting caught in your throat. your back is pressed against the cool cement behind you, with dazai’s firm chest flush against your front. the broken window above you pools sunlight over your half-dressed bodies. “yours.”
you feel his uneven breathing against your skin as he presses his lips against your jaw. his cock rubs against you deliciously, velvet walls fluttering and clinging to him each time he pulls his hips back. it’s so easy to melt into him like this, with the security of his hands against your skin, his soft hair tickling your neck, and his cock filling you perfectly, like you were made for him to take.
he lifts your leg, fingers squeezing the plush of your thigh and supporting your weight. he thrusts inside you at a new angle, hitting the slightest bit deeper, but it’s just enough to make you gasp as your belly flutters and your knees nearly buckle beneath his palm as he holds you up. your hands clench around nothing, nails digging into your palms in a desperate need to hold onto something.
“the way you threw that man and pinned him to the ground,” he whispers. “would you do that to me?”
“no,” you’re breathless, words lost on you as your mind clouds over with pleasure. his hips grind against yours, the head of his cock kissing the deepest part of you as your eyes roll backward. “i don’tー i’d never hurt you.”
“but i’d let you,” he rasps. “you could do whatever you want to me.”
he lets go of your wrists, and you bend your leg around his waist, trying to press him even deeper. you balance on your tip toes as he thrusts into you harshly, curling your arms around his shoulders, as if his cock nestled inside you wasn’t close enough; it was never enough when it came to dazai.
“fuck,” your voice is breathy and broken, and it echoes throughout the gutted warehouse. the heat building in your stomach is already overwhelming, rushing to your head until you feel drunk on it. your muscles are taut, toes curled as you feel him throb inside you, his hips stuttering. “osamu.”
his grip on you tightens, and he whines; it’s just barely audible, and you would’ve missed it if he wasn’t right next to your ear. your eyes are hazy, half open as you look at him through your lashes as he watches the way your tits bounce against the fabric of your bra in time with his movements.
your hand trembles as you lift it, closing your fingers loosely around his neck and pulling his gaze back to yours. you can’t help but grin, lips curving up into a drunken smile as you watch his cheeks flush a pretty pink and his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. dazai rarely expresses his emotions so openly, and you commit it to memory as best you can through the fuzzy feelings of bliss blurring the edges of your mind. he lets out the prettiest noise, something between a moan and a cry vibrating against your palm, his cock throbbing inside you as you squeeze his bandaged neck.
his thrusts grow sporadic, breathy moans growing in volume. his nails dig into your hips, and you rub your clit desperately, quivering in his grip as you feel him stall and cum, warm and deep inside you.
everything fades to static as the sweetness in your belly burns brighter and brighter until it finally explodes into white, hot, sparkling pieces that pierce your vision. dazai pants and hangs his head, but his eyes snap to yours as you mumble something close to “cummingー”, always so desperate to take in the pretty way you fall apart for him, because of him.
he whimpers when you draw your hand from his throat to his face, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. you cup his cheek, smoothing your thumb against the tape holding his small patch of gauze in place as you breathe in one another.
your legs ache, tensed muscles finally relaxing as you lower your foot back to the ground unsteadily. your head falls against the wall with a final sigh, chest heaving. dazai is beaming at you when you peek your eyes open after a few moments, looking irritatingly adorable with his messy hair and crooked tie.
“i can’t believe we did that here,” you glance towards the pieces of shattered glass that litter the ground.
“you loved it,” he smiles, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “you love me〜”
he pulls out of you carefully, snapping your underwear back into place. you grip his tie, wrapping it around your hand and pulling him in to press your mouth to his before straightening it and sliding the knot back into place.
he pouts as he watches you start to button your shirt back up, squeezing your waist softly.
“can’t you leave some open?”
your glare is weak, and he meets it with a smile. he slides his coat off his shoulders, draping it over your own to hide your wrinkled clothes.
“i’ll call a car to get us,” he hums, slipping his hand into your own as he guides you outside the warehouse. “i’ll even give you the rest of the day off for a good performance!”
you rest your head on his shoulder, sleepy and sated. the breeze is cool on your warm skin, carrying the scent of the sea as it gently brushes through your hair.
“you know,” he starts, typing away at his phone, still as happy as ever. “you still owe me lunch from losing that bet last week.”
he has another tease on the tip of his tongue, but he falters when he sees the red splotch of blood staining your pouted lips. he slips his hand beneath your chin and tilts your face towards him. he frowns at the cut, visible eye narrowing as he brushes his thumb against the corner of your mouth.
you wrap your hand around his wrist loosely, pulling it back to press your lips to his palmー i’m okay. he sees one of the mafia’s black cars pulling in from the corner of his eye, and presses a lingering kiss to your foreheadー i know. he pulls the lapels of his jacket tighter around your shoulders before he slips his hand back into yours, and when he walks you to the car, his coat flutters behind you.
BSD MASTERLIST
#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#dazai x reader#dazai x you#bsd x you#bsd x reader#dazai smut#bsd smut#dazai imagines#bsd imagines#dazai osamu x you#dazai osamu x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#ʚ shhh ɞ
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sorry kirk and spock’s love for each other is written into the narrative. as if it’s my fault.
#since the companion video is making the rounds again#like yeah. sorry that by kirk's own definition of love he's in love with spock. sorry.#feeling like he's a part of you? check#more important than anything? well he loses his career and his ship just to bury the man. so. check#sorry that the enterprise and kirk are implied as being inherently linked. as if kirk's one true love is the ship.#and not only does he destroy that ship#but spock is 'at home nowhere except starfleet' and 'sees the enterprise as his whole world'#sorry if the vulcan who can't lie and follows rules to a t will lie and break rules for kirk. sorry.#as if any of this is my fault.#'he's trying to contact the vulcan. this species is capable of much affection. i wonder if they'll show it to us.'#sorry. as if i can do anything about that.#'you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine warm decent feeling.' 'really doctor?' 'i know. i'm worried about jim too.'#'i have been and always shall be yours.'#as if i wrote those myself. sorry.#feeling normal tonight.#kirk#spock#spirk#tos#sam's thots
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thinking about how raph, april, and mikey are less focused on by the fandom than donnie and leo, the only two main characters in rottmnt with white voice actors
#to be clear this is not a “callout” nor am i trying to inspire discourse/attack anybody#it’s just something i’ve been thinking about for a while that i feel deserves more... ig recognition? by the fandom at large#like i know a part of it is definitely the shows’ fault and their own unspoken biases#but i can’t turn a blind eye when i see human versions of the turtles that consistently have see and lee be lighter skinned#even if they are all represented as poc#like to reiterate: this is not a call-out#it could absolutely just be the niche of the fandom that i find myself in (in which this is a massive self report)#and i absolutely need to do better as well!!#but i haven’t seen this talked about as much as i feel it should#esp with april— i mean i already am aware about the fandom bias toward male characters#but it makes it doubly hard for her character which is a shame seeing as she is a queen#+ my fav representation of april in the entirety of the tmnt canon so far#i understand with mikey that it could be excused due to the fact that his character was focused on less#but raph? he has sooo much good characterization that i often see given to leo in fic/fanart#like i said: this is a lot more nuanced than what i’ve talked about#and i am by no means perfect#i just think we as a fandom should at the very least recognize this aspect of ourselves#idk i’m definitely not the best person to be talking about this#but i’ve been turning it over in my head for a while so i figured i might as well just. say it#rottmnt#rottmnt meta#racism#tw racism#internal bias#if anybody has something to add feel free#just like. be civil please? like i don’t think anyone is doing it on purpose (obviously)#just something to be aware of
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes
Summary: Things have returned to normal, or at least they seem to have. Nothing can ever go your way, though, can it?
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7925 words
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex, face sitting, grinding, spanking (it's like once and not even on the ass), Kyle is definitely a munch, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, reader is a little shit, angst, PTSD, nightmares, trauma, mommy issues, family issues, language, the author's bias showing just a tad.
A/N: Have you ever cried while writing smut? I have. Had two mental breakdowns during the course of this chapter, the worst of the two during the smut scene. Sobbing while writing the reader getting her back blown out? That's a new one for me. But, I did it. I finished Chapter 16 this week. I'm feeling significantly better than I was, at least physically. Giving it to you a day early because I feel bad about not posting last week. The events of this chapter pick up pretty much where the previous one left off. Timeline wise, this chapter is spread over roughly a week-ish. And special thanks to the battle rattle anon for inspiring part of this chapter 🫶
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(This is my all time favorite gif of him I swear I stare at it way too much)
You’re clawing at the door frame, desperately clinging to the last thing you can hold on to, the last shred of your life as you know it. You fight the hands pulling at your arms, threatening to pull you away from the comfort, the warmth, the safety of your home, of your pack.
Your mothers grief-stricken sobs reach your ears, her cries of desperation as they rip you from her, your father’s hate filled gaze directed at you over her shoulder as he holds her back. She loves all her children, but you were always her favorite. The bond between you two was always the strongest.
Now you know why.
The arms rip you from the doorframe seconds before the door slams closed. It’s like a gavel strike declaring your fate, cutting you off from everything you knew. You’re pulled back from the door, from the house that had become your safe space, from the pack inside.
They’re not your pack anymore. The thought is like a sharp knife, severing the lifelong bond in your mind. You’re not a part of them anymore. You’re alone in this world, cut off from what you knew, and it’s all your fault.
If only you could have presented as an alpha, like you were supposed to.
You’re sobbing, breaths coming in choking gasps. Your chest feels tight, your body tense and aching as you fight against the constricting hold around you.
“Easy, easy.” A deep voice murmurs in your ear, your senses beginning to return. “Yer alright, kitten.”
Your breaths continue to come in shaky gasps as you start to recognize your surroundings. You’re in Johnny’s room still. His arms are wrapped tight around you, your own pinned against your chest. You had fallen asleep before you even realized it, exhausted after your night with Johnny.
“Ye were havin’ a nightmare.” He says, projecting his natural beta scent in an attempt to get you to relax.
You squeeze your eyes shut, letting the scent start to numb your brain. The tears continue to slide down your cheeks, but slowly your breathing begins to normalize. Johnny begins to loosen his hold around you, not letting you go, but enough that you don’t feel like you’re being constricted anymore.
“Si gets them too.” Johnny continues, speaking quietly. His breath is warm as it fans your ear, reminding you that you’re awake now, and your nightmare is behind you. “Woken up tae elbows and fists in my face many times.”
You keep your eyes closed, taking in deep breaths as Johnny lays with you in silence, his fingers gently stroking your arms. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You hadn’t meant to have a nightmare. Not in front of them. You knew it would happen eventually, but you had hoped you could avoid it as long as possible.
You don’t want to reveal your weakness, your pain, your inner struggle to them. They have enough of their own, they don’t need to know how broken you are too.
You lay there, slowly calming your breaths and the slight tremble in your limbs as you wait for Johnny to begin questioning you. He’ll want to know, he’ll want to hear what it is that’s plaguing your mind. You’ll have to tell him, you’ll have to explain everything and then he’ll want to know more. He’ll want to unearth the brokenness and the pain that you’ve buried so deeply like an archaeologist looking for the secrets of an ancient civilization.
You don’t want to reveal it, you want to bury it again, lock it back in the recesses of your mind where it can’t hurt you. You want to compress it back down until you feel safe again without the threat of the past hanging over your head.
Johnny continues to relax his hold around you as you begin to calm down again, the tears finally slowing to a stop. You take deep breaths, trying to match Johnny’s even breathing behind you. You wait for it, the inevitable question, the prodding, the digging. He’ll want answers, he’ll want to know what plagues your mind, how much it’s been happening, why you haven’t said anything.
You’re not sure how much time passes as you lay there, counting breaths. It’s silent in the room, in the barracks. Even outside it’s quiet, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting patiently for the shoe to drop, for the truth to get revealed.
You can't wait any longer. The tension is too thick, the thought of waiting for the question to break the silence is too much. You'll rip the bandaid before he can try and force it from you. “I don't-”
“Ye don't have tae tell me.” He cuts you off before you can even start, the words slicing through yours, stopping you from spilling your darkest, innermost thoughts. “We all have them sometimes. No shame in that.” He tightens his grip on you for a moment, pulling you closer against his chest. “Simon doesn't even tell me all of his. Thinks he might scare me off, or somethin'. I'm no’ gonnae force ye to tell me anythin’ if ye don’ want to.”
You're taken aback by his words. You suppose they all have to be plagued by nightmares of their own, with the kinds of things they have to see when they're in the field. Ghost had told you a bit about the nightmares that haunt him, and that had only been one tragedy, one mission. You suddenly feel silly. The kinds of things you’re afraid of, the nightmares that terrify your mind suddenly seem inconsequential to the things they must dream about at night.
You wiggle in Johnny’s arms until you’re facing him, his eyes half closed as he stares down at you. You shift forward, pressing your face against his bare chest. His head tucks so his chin rests against the top of your head as he holds you, his breathing slowing just slightly as he drifts back to sleep. You don’t sleep, laying there awake as you listen to the slow, rhythmic beating of Johnny’s heart.
He’s snoring quietly, breath fanning across your hair as he sleeps peacefully. You let your fingers trail over his skin as you wait for his early alarm that will signal the end of your quiet moments of bliss, snapping you both back into your realities. You trace the scars lining his skin, all of them with their own stories, just like John’s.
He makes a garbled, snorting noise as your fingers brush over his ribs, his entire body twitching. His hand moves, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. “Tickles.” He murmurs, lifting your arm so it’s draped around his neck. He's asleep almost immediately, as if he hadn't woken at all from your tickling.
You continue to lay there as he sleeps, your mind drifting between sleep and your racing thoughts until Johnny’s alarm goes off. He groans, reaching across you to turn it off. He lays still, breath still fanning over the top of your head. For a moment you’re worried he’s fallen asleep again, but eventually he moves, rolling on top of you.
He presses his face against your neck, letting out a quiet groan. He’s heavy, but a solid weight above you. It’s comforting, the weight of him like a blanket keeping you safe. He presses gentle kisses against your neck, his fingers trailing across your shoulder before brushing over your mark. You let out a whine, arching against him.
“Screamin’ Jesus.” He curses, getting hard against your thigh.
“Don’t you have to go work out?” You ask as he begins to grind against you.
“Would rather stay here with you.” He growls against your throat.
“Won’t you get in trouble?” You gasp, bucking up against him.
“Worth it.” He grunts, kicking the sheets off the end of the bed.
“Someone missed the morning workout.” Kyle says as you and Johnny sit down at the table for breakfast. You’re the last ones there, despite Johnny skipping his early morning workout.
You take your normal spot between Kyle and John, sitting gingerly on the hard bench. There’s still a distinct ache between your thighs from Johnny’s enthusiasm and intense stamina last night and this morning.
“Aye, don’t worry. I still got a good workout in.” Johnny says cheekily, winking across the table at you.
You’re afraid you may combust as the other three pairs of eyes at the table look at you. It’s no secret what you were doing last night, or this morning. Johnny, as in most aspects of his life, is loud in bed. Kyle had known you were going to, and so had Simon, but you find your gaze turning to John as your face warms.
You’re not quite sure what you’re expecting as you look at him. It’s not like he had forbidden you from pursuing relationships with the others, or even shown any distaste at the idea. You were open to love the other members of the pack, just as they did one another, just as he did.
His face is stoic as he stares at you, before it begins to lighten, a gleam shining in his eyes. “Did he take good care of you?” He asks, the corner of his lips twitching.
You swallow thickly, your face getting warmer as you nod. “Yeah.”
“Good.” John grins. “ Then I suppose I can forgive him for sleeping in this morning, so long as it doesn’t become a habit.” He casts his glance across the table.
“I’m a bad influence.” You say, spooning porridge into your mouth.
“Certainly worth the trouble, though.” Johnny says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Especially when you do that thing with your tongue-”
Johnny’s words are cut off with a pained yelp as Ghost kicks him under the table. “Don’t go spilling all her tricks.” He grumbles, eyeing the tables around you.
You think your face might be permanently warm at the thought of anyone nearby hearing the topic of your conversation. Of course they know, but hearing about it was something entirely different.
Kyle walks you back to the barracks after breakfast, your hand in his, fingers laced together. His thumb rubs the back of your hand absentmindedly, shoulders brushing as you walk. Neither of you say anything, but you don’t have to. Unlike Johnny, Kyle is happy to exist in silence. They’re so very different, despite both being betas.
Your brothers had often joked about betas being boring, and how glad they were that neither of your parents were betas. You’d disagree now, after spending some time around betas. They’re just as complex as alphas and omegas, in their own ways.
Boring was the last thing you’d describe Johnny as last night.
Kyle holds the door for you as you enter the barracks, following you down the hall. You stop in front of your door, your hand pausing on the knob as Kyle leans in close to you.
His chest presses against your back, breath fanning your ear as he speaks. “Can’t wait to find out about this trick you do with your tongue.”
Your face warms again, your heart thudding in your chest as you turn to look up at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “You could find out right now.”
Kyle’s lips lift in a smirk as he leans in closer, trapping you against the door. “I’d love to, but I don’t think the Captain would be quite so forgiving if I skipped out on this training.”
You stare up at him, lost in his big brown eyes. “Soon?”
He smirks, leaning down to kiss you. “Of course. Just say the word.”
He leaves you there with your heart thudding in your chest, your stomach churning in excitement. You’d be more than willing to go that extra step with Kyle right at this very moment, but the subtle ache between your thighs thanks to Johnny is a good reminder why you should wait. You want to enjoy your time with Kyle.
You know it will be worth the wait.
“How have you been?”
You shrug, sinking back into the plush chair. It’s warm in the office, a stark contrast to the cold downpour outside. “Fine.” You answer, running your hands over your jeans. “Tired.”
“Oh?” Dr. Keller raises an eyebrow at you. “Have you not been sleeping well?”
“I’m...having a hard time falling asleep.” You say. It’s not entirely a lie, but it’s not the whole truth.
“Why do you think that is?” She asks, writing something down.
Your palms begin to sweat. You hadn’t planned on going into too much detail about this with her, but you knew she’d likely notice and remark on your tired appearance. “Been thinking too much.”
“About what?” She probes, staring at you.
You know you don’t have to tell her anything. What you share is up to you. Yet, you can feel the words bubbling up, threatening to spill over before you can stop them. “My family.” You say, releasing some steam from the boiling pot inside you. Tears burn your eyes, threatening to fall as you continue. “Especially my mom. I miss her a lot sometimes.”
“You had a close bond with her.” Dr. Keller says. It’s not a question.
You nod. “The closest out of all of my siblings.” You snuffle, wiping the tear trailing down your cheek. “Makes sense why.”
“Sometimes we have traits or behaviors that show before we present that hint at our possible status. Having a stronger bond with one parent over another, especially in mixed status packs, can signal what one might present as.” Dr. Keller says. “Were you the first omega to present in your pack?”
You nod. “Yeah. My older brothers were alphas, and I don’t know about my younger siblings.”
“That could all contribute to a strong bond with your mother.” Dr. Keller leans back in her seat. “I’m assuming you haven’t had any contact with them since the institute.”
“Not since I was taken from home. The institute didn’t support keeping those connections with previous packs and...I don’t think they would have reached out anyway.” You say, picking at the fabric of your pants.
“What makes you say that?” Dr. Keller asks.
You pause, not sure you want to open that bag of worms. If anyone is safe enough to do it with, you know it’s going to be Dr. Keller. She won’t judge you, she won’t think you weak or silly for having such thoughts, such fears. She doesn’t care how broken you are. You’re not part of her pack. She’s an outsider, a doctor above all.
“Well, they did send me to the institute, didn’t they?” You finally say.
Dr. Keller hums, staring at you for a moment before she drops her gaze to her notebook, writing something down. “I suppose you have a point there. Hypothetically, if you were given the chance to, would you want to talk to them again? It’s not uncommon for omegas to seek out their previous packs and families after they leave the institute.”
Your stomach twists at her question. Even if it is only hypothetical, you had existed for years in the institute thinking you’d never get to see or hear from your family again. They were behind you, lost to you. They wouldn’t accept your attempts to reach out to them, even if you knew where they were. Even after leaving the institute, you knew the chances of seeing them again or even just hearing from them was almost none. You have a new pack now, your old one doesn’t matter.
That’s just the life of an omega.
Would you want to? In this hypothetical world where this question exists as a potential option, would they even answer if you called? Would they accept an invitation to see you again, if they were given the chance? Could your father feel regret after all of these years for what he did to you?
“I...” You frown, tears pricking your eyes again. “I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s a complex situation. If you ever wanted to, though, I’m sure they could make it happen.”
Your gaze snaps to hers, the shock at her words clearly written on your face. Of course they probably could. It was their job to hunt down hard to find people, and with the CIA at their backs, you’re certain they could track down your family easily. Would they do it for you, if you asked? Would they allow you to have that connection with your old pack while still being part of theirs?
“Most people keep some form of contact with their family, even after they move on to their own pack.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s not unusual, even among omegas. Just something to think about.”
“Do you still talk to your family?” You ask her, partly out of curiosity.
“I do.” She smiles. “I talk to my parents pretty regularly, and my older brother occasionally. He’s involved in this world too. He was in the Army originally, but now he does whatever it is he does.”
You’re surprised by her answer. Not so much that she still talks to her family, but that she’s familiar with this world. It makes sense, how easily she existed in it, beyond just being a professional. “Do you think it had something to do with you being chosen for this position?” You ask.
“Most likely.” She grins. “Laswell probably wanted someone who is at least a little familiar with this world, but also someone she knew would work well with you.”
“I think she made the right choice.” You say. It’s the truth. You like Dr. Keller. You trust her. You’ve grown comfortable in her presence and you look forward to your appointments with her. It almost makes you feel bad for withholding the truth from her.
“Good. I think so too.” She says. “So, did anything exciting happen this week?”
You chew on your lip nervously, your hands disappearing into your sleeves as your face warms a bit. “Johnny and I...had our first time together.”
“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise. “And that’s something you wanted?”
You nod. “Yeah. I’d like to get close to all of them, well, as close as Ghost will let me get.” You bite your lip again. “Ghost...gave me some pointers on how to handle Johnny. It worked. He...let me take control. I liked it.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” Dr. Keller says. “I think it’s great that you’ve discovered this about yourself. I know omegas are so used to being controlled in society. I think it’s great that you’ve found a place where perhaps you can take a little control back.”
She’s not wrong. Your entire life has been dictated for you, controlled by someone else. The baton of control was just continually passed from your father, to the institute, to the CIA, and now to John. Though John has granted you the most freedom of everyone that’s held control over you, there’s still requirements for obedience and submission to him. You’ll never be your own person. That’s just the way society works, and you’ve come to accept that.
Yet, you’ve never felt quite so powerful as you did in bed with Johnny, when you’d gripped him by the mohawk like Ghost had instructed you to. When you saw the change in his eyes as you took over, controlling him, telling him what to do. You liked it, exerting control over someone else for a change. He just let you do it. It still sends a thrill down your spine at the thought of the possibilities, the things you can do now that you’ve discovered this part of yourself. You’d never show it in public, but behind closed doors...
The book was right. Perhaps omegas can be powerful.
“What are we doing?” You ask, staring up at John as he straps a tactical vest onto your body.
“We’re doing an exercise, and you’re going to help us.” He answers, double checking the vest before putting a helmet on your head. “Think of it as hide and seek mixed with tag.” He finishes strapping the helmet to your head, taking a step back. “How does it feel?”
“Heavy.” You feel weighed down with the vest and the helmet.
“You’ll get used to it.” He says with a smile, guiding you towards the door of the warehouse.
It’s dark inside, nearly pitch black except for the light coming in from the open door. There’s fake walls set up in front of you, with space just in the middle like a sort of hallway that disappears into the darkness.
“Your job is to get from this side of the warehouse, to the other without getting caught.” John says. “No weapons, just you trying to evade us and get to the other side while we try and catch you,” John lowers the goggles on the top of the helmet, the world coming alive in shades of green around you. “And night vision goggles. Be smart about it. Understood?”
You nod, looking around with the goggles, trying to adapt to using them. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. You have a thirty second head start. Use it wisely.”
He leaves the warehouse, closing the door behind him. You’re left in complete darkness, with no sound but a fan running somewhere, probably to dampen any sounds that might echo. You stand there for a moment, trying not to breathe too heavily, as it might echo in the warehouse. You stare at the door behind you for a second before you begin to move forward, the adrenaline starting to pump. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they catch you. Are they working together or individually? What kind of strategy will they use? What strategy will you use?
You begin to pick up speed, running until you reach the end of the first hallway. It splits off in both directions, and you hesitate for a moment. Be smart about it. You don’t have many advantages in this situation. They’ve done this before, both in training and probably in the field as well. They’re highly skilled soldiers, trained to hunt down people in all sorts of environments, sometimes with nothing more than their scent.
Scent.
Of course.
You take off down the right hallway, following it as it twists and turns like a maze. A giant maze. There’s so many hallways, so many places to run, but not many to hide. That’s not the point, though. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they do. You have to track your way through this maze without getting caught by four special operations soldiers.
Simple enough.
You pause at a corner, undoing your vest so you can slip your sweatshirt off. You’re just putting your vest back on when the door opens, bathing the ceiling with light for a moment. It’s started. They’re inside. You can’t hear anything over the hum of the fan, and that’s almost more terrifying to you than if you had been able to hear them. The adrenaline is pumping now as you toss your sweatshirt in the corner before quickly backtracking and heading a different direction.
You try to keep your breathing quiet as you weave through the maze, doubling back and touching the walls every so often to try and leave your scent behind and confuse them. You take deep breaths through your nose as you go, trying to catch any whiff of them, any sign that you might have crossed their path or be getting close to them. They’ll reach the same area of the maze as you’re in eventually, sooner rather than later. You need to start pressing forward. You’re not just evading them, you have to reach the other side before they catch you.
You slip around a corner, pressing up against the wall as something moves behind you. You hold your breath, quiet footsteps passing by your position. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, the instinctual fear of being hunted rising in you. You take a couple of quiet deep breaths, slipping your shoes off to grab your socks before slipping them back on. You peek around the corner, finding nothing.
You toss one of your socks in the corner before doubling back, pausing as you cross one of their scents. Johnny. You recognize the citrusy tang in the air. Christ, you’ve never heard him be that quiet before. You continue on, your heart racing in your chest as you carefully weave around corners, slipping through hallways. They’re close to you now. They could be around any corner.
You pause as you cross the scent of leather and musk, something prickling in the back of your mind. It’s a fresh scent. You pause for a moment, looking in the direction he went before slipping around the corner. You still have your other sock clutched in your hand, knuckles white as you grip it tightly.
You should be nearing the end. The warehouse isn’t that big, even with all the doubling back and dodging you’ve been doing. You toss your other sock in a corner haphazardly as you decide to stop doubling back and go for the exit. You have to try and get ahead of them, as well as find your way through the maze to the exit door.
Simple enough.
Except, you have no idea which direction the exit is, or which direction you’re heading. You could be going backwards for all you know. You weave through the halls, around the corners, focusing on finding the end of the maze.
In your concentration you fail to notice the scent, weaving through the halls mindlessly as you attempt to reach the end of the maze. You pay for it as the sound of boots on the concrete floor rushes up behind you. You let out a startled shriek of surprise as your feet leave the floor, your body ragdolling over someone’s shoulder.
“Got her!” He yells out, weaving around a couple corners before light floods the warehouse, making you wince.
Your squint as your feet hit the ground again, the night vision goggles lifted from your face. Your nose crinkles as you stare up at Kyle’s smug face, his lips pulled up in a smirk.
“No fair.” You pout. “I was so close!”
“You were, but you got sloppy at the end there.” He says, undoing the strap of your helmet to help you take it off. You’re sweaty underneath it, hair sticking to your forehead. You’re glad you ditched your sweatshirt now.
“Not bad.” John says, exiting the warehouse, Ghost and Johnny following. “Nice strategy.” He says, tossing your sweatshirt to you.
You shrug, hugging it to your chest. “Had to think fast with what I had on hand.”
“Running around with no socks on too.” Ghost says, holding up your socks.
“Left you a little present. You can keep them if you want.” You smirk.
“Don’t want your nasty socks.” He grumbles, tossing them to you.
“That was fun.” You say, grinning up at them. “Like being hunted.” You don’t miss the quiet rumble in John’s chest at your words, his eyes darkening just a bit. “Can someone help me out of this now though,” You say, reaching for the velcro straps on the vest. “It’s squishing my boobs.”
The TV is playing some show, but you're not really paying attention. You haven't been, not for a while now. Your adrenaline had still been pumping a bit after your participation in the exercise earlier, putting you on edge the rest of the day. It had been a bit thrilling, the idea of being hunted like that. You can understand now how omegas enjoy being hunted, beyond just the inevitable end.
The thought of that being how the exercise ended, all four of them at once, out where anyone could see you...your skin begins to prickle as heat blossoms in your veins. Kyle would get to take you first because he won, he caught you so easily. Would John go second, or would he allow the other members of his pack to go first? Ghost would be rough, taking you from behind, hands bruising on your hips. Your teeth sink into your lip as you imagine him over you, a position you often found yourself in during your training with him. He's just so big, so strong. They all are.
You won't be able to control yourself during training if you keep going down that thought path.
John would be gentle, piecing you back together after the others have had their way with you. He'd take care of you, like a good alpha, dragging one more orgasm out of you after you think you can't anymore.
You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your scent. You're stinking up the rec room with your fantasies. You turn your head to look at the TV, trying to focus on what's happening on the screen in an effort to distract yourself.
It doesn't work, the subtle dampness between your thighs ever present on your mind. You have half a mind to get up and seek out Kyle, but like a miracle he appears in the doorway of the rec room. You see his nostrils flare, the lift of his shoulders as he inhales. He can smell your arousal, the spike in the sweetness of your scent. You have no doubt about that. He doesn't say anything, though, instead he approaches the couch silently, kneeling at the end.
He settles himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest. He lets out a breath as he settles, keeping some of his weight off of you, but he's still pressed against you like a weighted blanket. You fight the urge to shift beneath him, to press your hips up against him, to seek any ounce of relief for the warmth between your thighs.
You're not sure he's watching the TV either as he lays there, relaxed over you. Your fingers trail patterns across his back, gliding over his soft shirt. He's in blue today, one of your favorite colors on him. He looks good in anything, the perks of being pretty, but blue is one of your favorite colors on him.
It's silent between you for a while, Kyle relaxed above you while you fight to relax beneath him. If he’s affected at all by your scent, he hides it well. You have half a mind to ask him to take pity on you, to slip his hand beneath your sweatpants and ease the ache between your thighs. He had said whenever you wanted it. All you have to do is ask.
You shift slightly beneath him, lifting your hand to his head. “Kyle?” You ask, gently trailing your fingers over his scalp. He'd gotten his hair buzzed recently, the curly strands shorter than normal.
He hums in response, the sound rumbling through your body from where his head rests on your chest. When you don't reply right away he lifts his head, blinking up at you with those big brown eyes.
“Kiss me?” You ask.
Your heart starts to race as he pulls himself closer to you, his body dragging against yours. His eyes dart to your lips before they look back into yours for a moment. He leans down, slipping his arms underneath your back as he closes the gap between you. His lips are soft against yours, his kisses gentle and controlled as he holds you like you might break in his grasp.
“Kyle?” You murmur against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck.
He hums again in response, pulling away just slightly to stare down at you.
“‘M not gonna break.” You say, dragging your nails over his scalp again. “Kiss me like you mean it.”
His lips twitch in a smirk before he leans down, pressing his lips hard against yours. It’s a searing kiss that nearly steals your breath away. His tongue prods at your lips, and you part them to allow him in. He tastes like the tea he had been drinking after dinner, rich and earthy with a hint of sweetness from the sugar he added. You moan softly into his mouth as his tongue flicks against your own, your thighs squeezing around his waist at the thought of that tongue between your legs.
He smirks against your lips as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking, his body shifting over yours so he can press one of his thighs between your legs. You move instinctively, your hips grinding against his thigh. Finally you're getting some friction, some relief from the ache.
“Fuck.” He breathes, pulling you tighter against his chest. “That’s it.” He groans, pressing his thigh harder against your grinding hips. “Gonna cum on my thigh, just like that?” He nips at your jaw, trailing kisses down the line towards your neck. “Haven’t even touched you yet.”
You try to muffle your moans as you continue to grind against his thigh, the friction on your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Kyle?” You gasp out, gripping the back of his shirt. “Gonna fuck me on the rec room couch?”
He lifts his head from your neck, staring down at you for a moment. “Fuck, you’re right. Your room or mine?”
“Yours.” You say, hanging on for dear life as he scoops you up off the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He walks you to his room, carrying you the entire way. He kicks the door shut, beelining for his bed. He drops you down on the mattress, your body bouncing as he hastily peels his shirt off, revealing an expanse of smooth skin marked here and there by scars. You immediately reach out, trailing your fingers over his skin. It’s just as soft as it looks, your fingers trailing the lines of his muscles.
His hand flattens over yours as it reaches his chest, pressing it into his warm skin as he leans down, kissing you again. His hands slip under your thighs, lifting you and switching your positions so he’s seated on the bed, and you’re in his lap.
“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He says, looking up at you.
“I think it’s been mentioned before.” You say with a shrug, smiling down at him.
“It’s the truth.” He says, slipping his hands under your shirt. “Deserve to hear it all the time.”
“Bunch of handsome men complimenting me constantly?” You say, lifting your arms over your head so he can remove your shirt. “Can’t complain about that.”
“Luckiest men in the world.” He says, smoothing his hands across your back as he presses his face into your throat. “Pretty little omega.”
You shiver as his teeth nip at your skin, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. You arch against his chest, pressing yourself closer. There’s a bulge in his pants, a shiver of pride running through you at the thought that you did that to him. You elicited such a reaction from him.
“I never properly thanked you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“For what?” He asks, staring up at you curiously.
“For taking such good care of me during my heat. Couldn’t have been easy, seeing me like that, knowing you couldn’t even touch me.” You grind your hips against his, his teeth sinking into his lip as you grind against his bulge. “Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself while thinking about me?”
“Too many to count, love.” He groans, leaning his forehead against yours. “Sounded so sweet, getting ruined by our alpha.”
“Been so patient, waiting for this.” You gasp, still rocking in his lap, the wetness between your thighs intensifying from the friction. “Tell me how you want me.”
“Sit on my face.” He growls, pushing you off his lap so he can lay down on the bed.
You shove your pants and underwear down your legs, fighting the urge to be bashful. Kyle has already seen you at your most vulnerable, been up close and personal with your most private parts. Yet, it feels different like this. More intimate, and less of a necessity.
You take his hand as he offers it, letting him guide you to kneel over his face. You grip the headboard as you hover over him, his hands settling on your hips.
“Wait-” You say, before he can pull you down onto his face. “What if I suffocate you?”
“Then I’ll die a happy man.” He says, tugging you down onto his mouth.
You let out a gasp as his tongue drags through your folds, already soaked from his teasing. His tongue flicks across your clit, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. Your hips jerk when his mouth closes around your clit, suckling at it with a lewd smack of his lips.
“Fuck!” You gasp, grinding your hips against his face as he continues to tease your clit, drawing patterns on it with his tongue.
You’re close already, your legs trembling around his head. He holds you steady, keeping you still above him as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it harshly. Your knees attempt to squeeze around his head as you cum, soaking his face with a cry. He continues to lap at your folds, licking up every last bit of your release before he finally lets you move off his face.
You drop to the side, staring down at him as you try to catch your breath. He licks his lips, his face shiny with your juices. He reaches a hand over, tangling his fingers in your hair as he pulls your face down to his, kissing you. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue and lips, already starting to get wet again.
Kyle wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your back under him. He hovers over you, the bulge in his pants very visible, even from this position.
“Sweet little omega.” He says, nipping at your lips. “So fucking perfect.”
“Kyle,” You gasp, pulling him down into a kiss. “Need you.”
“I got you.” He soothes you, pressing another kiss to your lips before he sits back on his knees between your legs, staring down at you. He drags his fingers through your folds, still just as slick as they had been before your orgasm. “So fucking wet.” He groans, hastily undoing his belt and pants, kicking them off the end of the bed.
You stare at him in awe, his cock just as beautiful as he is. Long and thick, curved just slightly. You can’t help but ogle him as he wraps a hand around the base, squeezing it. He’s hard, raging hard, the tip leaking precum already. He really has been so patient, waiting for this. You almost feel bad making him wait so long, but he had agreed to be patient, if only to keep Johnny from making everyone’s lives miserable with his pouting if he didn’t get to go first.
It’s only fair that you let Johnny go first too, considering Kyle will likely be the one you spend the most time with. It’s only natural, thanks to your bond with John. Kyle’s your beta, just as much as John is your alpha. You’d like Johnny to be your beta too, but you know without that bond with Ghost, it’ll never feel quite the same as it does with Kyle. Regardless, you’ll continue to treat Johnny as if he was your beta.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Kyle asks, watching you as you get lost in thought.
You truly do it at the worst possible times.
You lift your gaze to his, staring into those big brown eyes. “Just waiting on you to hurry up and fuck me.”
You let out a yelp as Kyle’s hand smacks your inner thigh, the sound cracking through the room.
“Don’t get cheeky now.” He warns, rubbing the spot on your skin that’s quickly turning warm from his smack. “Just making sure you’re alright.”
“Fine.” You say, spreading your legs further for him. “Be better if you finally fucked me.”
Your laugh is broken by a moan as he drags his head through your folds, his hand falling to grip your waist.
“That needy for me, huh?” He asks, teasingly pressing the tip of his cock into you before pulling back.
“Just worried you might not make it since you’ve waited so long.” You gasp, trying to move your hips to take him deeper into you, but he pins you with the hand on your hip.
“Careful what you wish for.” He says, the warning clear in his tone. You handled Johnny just fine, you can certainly handle Kyle.
You hope.
He finally takes pity on you, sinking his cock deeper into you. You moan at the stretch, flopping back on the bed as you try to relax around him. He rolls his hips in short thrusts, sinking deeper and deeper as you open up to him. You reach for him as he sinks even further into you, his body folding over yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him as he seats himself completely inside you, hips pressed flush against yours.
“Hi.” You breathe, getting lost in his soft gaze.
“Hi, love.” He grins down at you, fingers brushing your cheeks as he leans on his elbows above you. “Doing alright?”
You nod, squeezing around him. “Yeah. Feels good.”
“Good.” He says, leaning down to kiss you. “Been waiting so long for this. Feels better than I imagined.”
You let out a quiet whine, clenching around him again. The thought of him imagining this, trying to picture what you’d look like, what you’d feel like while he waited patiently for his turn has your body burning hot. You shift your hips below him, causing him to move inside you.
“Kyle?” You breathe, shifting again. “Please move.”
“I got you, love.” He smiles down at you, pulling his hips back before slowly pressing forward again.
Your head falls back as he moves, keeping his pace slow and languid. Heat burns through your veins, your very nerve endings alive as he slowly rolls his hips into you. Something thrums in the back of your mind, the mark on your shoulder almost tingling as you stare up at him, your fingers trailing over the mark on his shoulder, a mirror of the one on your own. A shudder runs through him as your fingers brush the scar, his lips parting in a low groan. You clench around him at the sight of such unbridled pleasure on his face, pulling him closer against your body.
He drags your pleasure out as he makes love to you, slow and passionate and deliberate with every movement. You know you won’t last much longer, the sensations beginning to overwhelm you.
“I’m close.” You breathe into Kyle’s ear, pressing kisses across his neck. “Don’t stop.”
“Gonna cum for me?” He groans, keeping his thrusts steady. “Gonna let me see that beautiful face as you come undone for me?”
Your back arches as you cum, pushed over the edge by his words. Your nails bite into his shoulders, but he offers no complaint as he continues to roll his hips into yours, working you through your orgasm as he chases his own. His pace picks up slightly as he gets closer and closer to the edge, your eyes on his face, wanting to watch him now.
“Your turn.” You breathe, still trying to catch your breath from your orgasm as you clench around him.
His head tilts back, lips parted in a deep moan as his hips jerk. His cock twitches inside you, his thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. You trail your hands over his back, sinking your teeth into your lip as you watch his face morph into complete bliss. You’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful.
He collapses on top of you, just managing to keep his weight off of you thanks to his elbows planted on the bed beside your head. You continue to rub his back, fingers tracing the smooth, sweat slicked skin, only pausing to trace the scars that you find. Kyle presses soft kisses to your face, slowly trailing lower across your jaw and neck. He presses a kiss to your mark, a shudder running through you. He lets out a groan as you clench around him, shifting so he’s face to face with you again.
“Give me a minute.” He says, slipping out of you as he presses a kiss to your lips.
“Tired already?” You ask cheekily.
“No,” He says, kissing you again before slowly sliding down your body. “Just need a minute to catch my breath. Besides,” He settles between your thighs, pressing them open so he’s face to face with your pussy. “I’ve got a mess to clean up.”
You stand outside the door of John’s office, brows pulled into a frown. You have a feeling you already know what he’s going to say, yet your mind keeps reeling, coming up with the most fantastical ideas as to why you were summoned to his office in the middle of the day. It’s weird that he’s in his office in the middle of the day. Usually they’d be off training, but he’d pulled them all into a meeting this morning after breakfast, one that had gone into your usual lunch time, and then they hadn’t gone to train after you finally got to eat.
“Come in.”
Your hand pauses on the handle as you hesitate, almost as if you could prevent what’s going to happen by just not going in. It’s a ridiculous thought. Avoiding this will only likely get you into trouble.
You step into the office, the air inside different from any of the other times you’ve been in his office. John’s face looks grim and focused behind his desk, and it’s not hard to tell you’re not facing John right now, you’re facing Captain Price.
You take the seat across from him at his desk when he motions to it, trying to fight the tears threatening to brim in your eyes as you stare at him. You won’t cry. You knew this was going to happen eventually. You knew going in what was going to inevitably happen. You had been well prepared for this part of your new reality, yet you don’t want to acknowledge it now that you’re staring it in the face.
“I know you’ve likely already figured out what’s going on.” He says, his voice gruff and deeper than normal.
You can see it in his face. He’s fighting his own battle with having to tell you. You hadn’t expected it, to see him struggle with it. He knew it as well as you did. He knew it better than you did, and yet, you can see the turmoil behind that focused gaze.
He lets out a sigh as he continues, hands closing into fists on his desk, his tone almost apologetic. The words sting despite the fact you had known they were coming, despite the fact you had expected them when you walked into the office. “This morning we had a debrief for a new assignment. We’ll be leaving tonight. All four of us.”
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#call of duty#call of duty fic#tf 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#x reader#Kyle gaz Garrick x reader#gaz x reader#John price x reader#captain price x reader#Johnny soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#Simon Riley x reader#Simon ghost riley x reader#a/b/o#alpha/beta/Omega dynamics#omegaverse
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Go for his brother part 3
Part 2
Part 1
charles_leclerc The day @/y/n_leclerc and I decided to spent the forever together
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y/n_leclerc Did I mention I'm in love with you? 😭
↳charles_leclerc Yeah I think you mentioned that a few times in the vows, ma chérie
y/n_leclerc I love it when you call me french terms of endearment oh my god 😩
username1 SHE'S HOOKED
↳username2 FOR LIFE 🤞
pierregasly And I really thought I wouldn't see that day
↳y/n_leclerc Life's full of surprises isn't it?
username3 Charles calls her ma chérie, Arthur used to call her mon bébé 😭 do you get deja vu
↳username4 y/n: *breathes* y'all: do you get deja vu omg she used to breathe with Arthur 😭
↳username5 You remember mon bébé but do you remember chouchou? 😭
username3 OMG YES he used to call her chouchou and she used to call him Thurthur 😭
username4 GET. OVER. THEM. Y/n is now married to Charles BESIDES Arthur CHEATED on her. She deserved better than Arthur and now she has it.
pascale_leclerc Congratulations my loves ❤️😘 the wedding was beautiful
↳y/n_leclerc Merci maman🫶
↳username3 Pascale is just happy to have Y/n in her family and I live for this
username2 Maybe it was all Pascale's idea, when she found out Arthur cheated, she told Charles to keep Y/n in the family lmao
username3 And he stayed committed to the job💪
danielricciardo The instant photos part was awesome, I bet it was Y/n's idea
↳y/n_leclerc Yes it was 🫡and it was really nice to see you, Max, Lando and Carlos having lots of fun with it once the alcohol kicked in
charles_leclerc Not to mention now we have some things to blackmail you with
danielricciardo Bold of you to assume I'd be ashamed of any of these, Charles
carlossainz55 Looking forward to seeing Y/n in the paddock more often! 😊
↳y/n_leclerc You know, Carlos, some people have jobs... You should look it up sometime...🫶
↳username5 Is she now gonna go for Carlos lmao
scuderiaferrari Big day for our favorite couple ❤️ evviva gli sposi 👏
↳charles_leclerc Grazie mille❤️❤️
↳y/n_leclerc We're the favorite couple 🥹
georgerussell63 Even though you were engaged I didn't believe you'd actually do it until it happened
↳charles_leclerc Thanks George, supportive as always
username1 That's what I call KARMA
username2 But when are we going to talk about the argument Arthur and Charles had before the wedding?
↳username3 What were you in their house? Lmao
username2 Another gossip page said that Arthur and Charles argued in front of the wedding chapel
username3 That's so unrealistic, don't trust everything you see on these pages
username4 Hey so do we know if there were any arguments?
↳f1gossip There's no way we'd have any information on that, it was a very private ceremony. That is highly doubtful though, I don't think this could've happened. Even Arthur knows better than acting like this on his brother's wedding day.
username3 That's so right, Arthur isn't dumb enough to act like a dick on his brother's wedding day, he knows it's his own fault
username5 Yeah it would be so weird if Arthur was playing angry now like man it's all consequences of your own actions, be an adult
username6 Even if it wasn't showing, Arthur was definitely dying on the inside. Imagine seeing your ex girlfriend at the altar next to your brother. You're thinking "it should be me with her", but it's too late
↳username7 One day Y/n and Charles will have kids, they'll be a happy family. Charles will have everything Arthur could want - a seat in F1, Y/n as his wife, little Leclerc(s) running around. Arthur will always be the "less successful" Leclerc. No wonder Lorenzo stays out of the spotlight
username8 Now you're making it sound depressing lol
username7 Tbh I cried a little thinking about this even though I know that's what Arthur deserves for cheating on Y/n
username9 I wonder what happened between Arthur and [ex best friend's name]
↳f1gossip She allegedly broke up with him and a few days later was seen on a date with a fellow Formula 2 driver.
username7 This keeps getting better
username9 WHO???? I NEED TO KNOW???
username8 I saw someone say she was seen with that Piñacolada guy
username9 Piñacolada?? Do you mean Franco Colapinto?? 💀
y/n_leclerc Charles isn't my fiancé anymore 👰♀️🤵
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charles_leclerc I told you it's not the best way to say it
↳y/n_leclerc You can't stop me, tesoro
username1 OMG I've just noticed Y/n changed her username
↳username2 well, she got married...
lilymhe Wedding of the century
francisca.cgomes Every little girl dreams of a perfect wedding. That was this wedding
↳exbestfriend I've never dreamt of a wedding as a kid
francisca.cgomes Girl nobody asked
exbestfriend Why would a kid think about it? Don't they have better things to do? Like playing with toys and BEING A KID?
y/n_leclerc Pls not under my wedding post, get your jealous ass outta here
yoursister I'm so proud of you Y/n 😭
↳y/n_leclerc I know, you couldn't stop crying 😭
yoursister You know it were happy tears, I love you so much 😭
username3 LMAO [ex best friend's name]'s comments are pure comedy 💀 do you think she'll try to steal Charles now?
↳username4 Doesn't matter, Charles will never cheat on Y/n
arthur_leclerc You looked amazing
↳username2 Get the fuck out of this comment section
↳username3 All you can do about it now is cry, you wasted your chance
↳username4 The way Y/n doesn't even bother to reply
alex_albon I bet you wouldn't have the guts to wear the dress to the paddock next race
↳y/n_leclerc You're right, I won't 🙌 it's too beautiful to take any risks
charlottesiine Dream dress 🤍
↳y/n_leclerc I know right 🥹 when I saw it I knew right away THAT'S THE ONE
↳username5 wtf what's Cha doing here
username6 They follow each other since that one time they hung out together
username5 ahh the famous "we both suffered a Leclerc" thing
username7 GUYS I AM CRYING Cha said dream dress, I wonder if she's thinking it should be hers, like she should be in Y/n's place 🥹😭
↳username8 Y'all need to stop, first talking about Arthur, now about Charlotte. Go touch some grass
username7 but, unlike Y/nArthur, ChaCha broke up on good terms, so this could be her
username8 But it's not. Grow up. So disrespectful to talk about it on a wedding post
username9 I am really happy for Y/n and Charles. But I can't stop thinking this could be Y/n and Arthur. Or Charles and Charlotte
↳username7 I bet Arthur also can't stop thinking about this lmao he'll never find someone who'll love him as much as Y/n did
username9 Let's not go that far maybe...?
username1 Their voices are so similar 😭 do you think Y/n sometimes accidentally calls Charles Arthur?
↳username2 Do you think she sometimes says the wrong name in bed? 💀
username3 This whole story, from the moment Arthur cheated to the end of this interview, is my Roman Empire
username4 I love that they stay on good terms even after what happened with Y/n
↳username1 In this exact interview Arthur said he didn't talk to Charles for WEEKS, he didn't even show up on the family dinners, until one day he understood he can only blame himself
username5 You can see that Arthur is happy for his big brother, but in his voice you can hear the pain 😭
username6 When Arthur said "Now I see what I did was hurtful and I'm glad it was Charles who took care of Y/n after it happened, instead of some random guy who would possibly repeat my mistake" it broke me 😭
↳username7 "Y/n is an amazing woman and I hope Charles will give her everything I couldn't." 😭😭
username8 when Ch asked "do you think you'd deserve a second chance? if Y/n and I weren't married, of course" as a joke and A replied "honestly? no, I was a douchebag and the cheating wasn't the only issue in our relationship, she truly deserved better" AND THEN GAVE HIS BROTHER A BIG SMILE WTF?? 😭😭
username9 At least he realizes his mistakes😭
username4 Not only cheating?? What else?? I need to know immediately
username8 They didn't say it in the video, I doubt they would ever say it publicly unless Y/n decides to speak about it (but I don't see why would she, being happily married now)
username10 They should release one interview of the Leclercs just talking about this whole Y/n situation
y/n_leclerc Maybe it all happened a bit quick, but my husband is a race driver for a reason
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lilymhe I GASPED when I saw the caption
↳charles_leclerc I asked her nicely to look for some basic quote 🙁
pascale_leclerc Can't wait to meet our little Leclerc❤️
↳y/n_leclerc You'll be the first one to find out❤️
yoursister That's how I find out? Through a post?😭
↳y/n_leclerc I wanted to surprise you 🥹
yoursister I'm kidding, I'm happy for you guys 🩷
francisca.cgomes Someone check on Arthur
↳y/n_leclerc KIKA!!!!
↳username1 I love Kika 😭
↳username2 Jokes aside someone really needs to check up on him
arthur_leclerc It really suits you 🩷
↳y/n_leclerc Don't say that to Charles, he already told me he'd like 2 more 😭 I don't think I wanna go further than just this one
charles_leclerc I'm not gonna force you! If you wanna stop at one, that's fine by me
y/n_leclerc We can get a puppy instead? Right now it would be perfect so the puppy and the baby can entertain each other and grow up together
charles_leclerc Alright, ma chérie, we can talk about that 😂
↳username1 "I hope Charles gives her everything I couldn't" 😭 so that's what he meant
↳username2 Alexa play the one that got away by Katy Perry
username3 I just know Arthur will be the fun uncle omg
↳username4 I don't think he'll spend much time with the baby, if I were him it would always make me think "wow, that baby could be mine if I didn't mess up" 💀
username3 It seems like he understood his mistake and came to terms with the consequences. Plus, he didn't say it, but I feel like in the video shared by the gossip page he implied not wanting kids
username4 What do you mean? How?
username3 "I hope Charles gives her everything I couldn't" and then said the cheating wasn't the only reason for the breakup and now, a few weeks pass and we get the pregnancy announcement
username4 Well, maybe getting cheated on didn't work out so badly for Y/n in the end
alex_albon Project Verstappen? 😏
↳georgerussell63 *project Hamilton
charles_leclerc *project Leclerc 😌
alex_albon Better start saving up for the baby's therapy then
charles_leclerc Welcome home, Jules Hervé Leclerc, born July 17 🤍
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#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#f1 smau#f1 social media au#charles leclerc smau#Charles leclerc social media au
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don’t go - k. bakugo
a/n: I’m so horny for this man I can’t even think straight. This was supposed to be short and fluffy but now it’s turned into this. I would say sorry but I’m not. (Yes I am alive)
pairing: katsuki bakugo x fem! reader
wc: 1.5k
content/warnings: smut, unprotected morning s*x, begging, overstimulation, bkg is obsessed with you, also completely not proofread
Your boyfriend Katsuki is clingy. Very clingy— in all senses of the word, and you’re convinced that if you open a dictionary right now his name would show up as the very definition of it. Bakugo would live under your skin if he could, or at the very least come up with a way to keep you in his pocket.
As lovely as your boyfriend is, his innate urge to smother you in affection poses a problem in times like these— early mornings where you have to get up and get ready for work.
“Katsuki, I need to go to work. Go back to your side of the bed.”
“Just quit,” he murmurs, “I’ll take care of ya.”
“As appealing as that sounds, no. I need to get up and do my part as a functioning member of society.” Any attempt to leave your shared bed is shut down by Bakugo, his strength easily overpowering yours as he wraps his arms around you and lays on top of you.
“But you’re my pillow,” he says with a bit of a sigh, pressing his into the crook of your neck, melting further into you. His hot breath tickles your skin, and it’s enough to have your heart pounding along with a familiar warmth in between your legs. Katsuki is observant to a fault, he knows you better than the back of his own hand, and knows just what to do to turn you into putty.
His hands snake up under your (read: his) shirt, kneading your breasts. You let out a sharp gasp as he tweaks your nipples and sucks a love bite at the junction of your neck. He hums in appreciation as he slowly leaves a trail of wet kisses down your stomach, stopping just as he reaches your underwear.
He traces your slit, eyes darkening as the fabric begins to dampen with your slick. “So wet for me already, baby.” It’s not a question, it’s a fact that he already knew. Katsuki wastes no time sliding the garment down your legs. He takes a moment to run his hands up and down both your thighs before prying your legs further apart, exposing yourself to him completely. He can feel his mouth water at the sight of you.
Katsuki can’t help but moan the minute his lips attach themselves to your clit, sucking fervently. “Always taste so good, princess.”
You take a moment to glance down, which proves to be a mistake. Katsuki’s practically making out with your pussy, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re nothing short of lovesick. His vermillion orbs draw you in, and they’re absolutely magnetizing. You have to close your eyes to stave off your orgasm for a little longer.
Katsuki can’t help but grind against the edge of the bed to feel some sort of release. He’s so fucking hard. He thinks he’s growing delirious. Katsuki swears he can cum from the taste of your pussy and the sound of your angelic voice filling the room with a sweet symphony. When you let out a particularly breathy call of his name, he has to will himself not to finish in his boxers, which is already usually a difficult enough task on its own, but now it's almost impossible from how impossibly hard he is with morning wood.
You grind against his mouth, hands carding through his hair as your orgasm rapidly approaches. Katsuki is more than eager to be used as a means of getting there. Even as you cum, he continues to fuck your hole with his tongue and lapping up your pussy. It’s only when you begin to push him away does he feel the need to lean back, a loud pop reverberating as he does.
“You gonna be a good girl and let me take care of ya?”
“Mmm, fuck. Yes, ‘ki.”
“Good girl,” he coos, his lips pressing against yours with fervor. You allow him to deepen the kiss, sucking on his tongue. He moans appreciatively, hips stuttering as he continues to grind against you. The head of his cock bumps against your clit over and over, smearing precum all over your pussy. His tip just barely presses against your fluttering hole, and you can feel your insides ache with anticipation and utter need.
He’s teasing you. You’re overstimulated yet somehow unsatisfied. Your pussy is craving to be stretched out, and Katsuki is making sure he’s doing everything but that. He likes getting you like this— needy, clingy, nearly delirious as you beg for him. He likes to think of it as reparations for how insane you make him feel on the daily.
You’re not sure how much more you can take.
“Katsuki, please,” you whine, lifting your hips to grind against his dick, hoping to get what you want, what you need. You look up at Katsuki and for a moment, you think you’ve got him— think that you’d be able to look at him with those doe eyes and get what you want easily, like always. He never could refuse you.
But he merely smirks, and uses one hand to press you back down into the mattress.
“Tell me what you want, princess. You know I’ll make it good for you.”
“Want you to fuck me, ‘ki.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” you whine sweetly.
“I’ll give you what you want baby,” he affirms, the timbres of his voice reaching the depths of your soul. He uses both hands to press both of your legs by your shoulders, cock lined at your entrance. I always do, don’t I?
You can’t stop the moan that tumbles out of your lips as he fills you up. Katsuki presses a kiss against your forehead, relishing in the way you tighten around his dick.
The familiar coil that’s been forming in your tummy is threatening to unravel, if your stuttered moans and breaths are any indication. Katsuki seems to know this too, as he pulls out right before you hit your climax. You whine at the sudden lack of overwhelming pressure, and Katsuki’s quick to silence you with a hard stare.
His breath ghosts against your lips, vermillion eyes burning into yours with intense, unspoken passion. “What’s wrong, princess?”
You shake your head in the negative. “Wanna cum, Katsuki. Please.”
He starts thrusting again, slowly and with purpose. His eyes never leave yours. It doesn’t take long for you to be on the brink of an orgasm again. “You want to cum, right baby?” He smiles when he sees you nod. “You can cum,” he says carefully, “but only if you do one thing for me.”
“I’ll do anything Kats,” you manage to choke out. Katsuki continues to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. You really would do anything, Katsuki’s own desire and utter want for you is so persuasive that you feel compelled to follow.
“Don’t leave,” he whispers, lips pressing a chaste kiss against yours. “Stay with me, today.” There’s an urgency behind his words despite them being said so softly.
Fuck it.
You barely manage to let out a stuttered “yes, ‘ki,” before you reach your peak. The pleasure rolls over you in waves, tears threatening to spill as Katsuki continues to drill into you, chasing his own high. A few particularly rough thrusts punctuated by staggered moans let you know that he’s cumming.
Katsuki manages to plop right next to you, bed shifting under his weight. You lock eyes as you both try to catch your breaths. He gives you a quick smile before pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple, one arm wrapping around you to pull you against him.
“So…” he starts, his eyes brimming with satisfaction, lips upturned into a smirk. He knows he’s won. “Ready for round 2?”
#katsuki x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x you#bakugo x you#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#kat’s writing#kat’s demon time
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I Could Never Hate You
Pairing -> ninth member!reader x Lee Minho
WC -> ~3,300 words
Includes -> hurt/comfort, angst, enemies to lovers, hyunjin's a meanie, reader has anxiety, minho struggles with his feelings, cringy nickname use, yelling, swearing
Summary -> The rest of the group members are over the silly rivalry between you and Minho. They decide to take matters into their own hands. However, their little game takes a turn for the worse when one of the members betrays your trust. Some may call it destiny…the way it leads you straight into the arms of the one you would never expect.
Author's Note -> This is my first time posting on here, so hopefully this isn't too rough. Also, I swear I don’t hate Hyunjin. I love him to death. It was just necessary for the plot… anywaysss hope you enjoy!!
Masterlist ♡ Next Part
“I swear to God if you guys don’t open this door right now!” You yell as you pound on the hotel room down the hall from yours. There hasn’t been a reply, but you know that Hyunjin and Felix are in there. The two of them are always locked in their hotel rooms the night before your shows. They try to get as much sleep as possible for the next day.
‘They are definitely laughing their asses off right now,’ you think to yourself. It was just a stupid prank to them. Something to get you and Minho to finally get along again, but they just don’t get it. You had tried for so long to make it work, but Minho was just too stubborn. For heaven’s sake, you guys used to be the best of friends. One day he just started being cruel. Ignoring your texts, saying snarky things under his breath, scoffing every time you accidentally messed a move up. It escalated to the point where you no longer talk anymore. Truly, it is not your fault and they don’t seem to get it. He refuses to say anything about what happened, completely disregarding the fact that you were ever close enough to share your deepest secrets.
You turn around to leave, realizing the two boys were probably never going to open the door. You hear the lock click and spin back to see the annoyingly beautiful face of Felix. Although he wasn’t outright laughing at you, he was putting little effort in trying to hide his smile.
“Hey, what are you so upset for? I didn’t notice anything wrong on the bus earlier?” Felix asks. You just stare back dumbfounded.
“Why the fuck would you ever put me in a room with him?” you spit pushing past Felix into his room, “Don’t you dare look at me like that, you know how he treats me.”
Hyunjin just looks at you from his spot on a queen bed closest to the window. He looks shocked, as if he hadn’t expected you to actually put up a fight against the sleeping arrangements.
"How is that our fault?" Hyunjin questions. He seems like he may be genuinely asking, but you know him better than that. You have always been closer to him than the other members, especially after all the things that went down with Minho. Hyunjin was always the one to comfort you. The first to step up when your anxiety got to be too much. So, it was obvious that the members did have something to do with it, and it wasn't just an unfortunate fluke.
"I saw the way you guys all ran to claim your rooms while I was still collecting my suitcase. Don't act stupid. I know you know what's going on," you say back in hopes to get him to at least explain what their plan was. Maybe you could reason with them and get one of the boys to switch. Heck, you'd even be willing to sleep on the couch in Hyunjin and Felix's room, but it's starting to seem like they don't even want you in their room in the first place.
You hear Felix close the door behind you, but it's all blocked out as you watch Hyunjin roll his eyes at you. While this may seem like a typical Hyunjin action, it just didn't feel right. He tries to be more gentle with you than the other boys. After confiding many of your secrets and insecurities in him, he knows to control his face around you. Yet, it's beginning to look like he's forgotten all about that tonight.
"Yeah, I'm the stupid one..." he mumbles under his breath. With every sentence exchanged, the tension in the room grows thicker. You almost feel bad putting the other poor boy in the room through this. You can practically feel him stiffen with every word spoken.
"Hyunjin-" Felix starts but is cut off by a sharp look from the man himself. You know it's starting to go too far if Felix is getting upset, but Hyunjin doesn't seem to care.
"Why are you so angry right now?" you ask him, praying the question doesn't fire him up more. Maybe he's just having a really bad day, or maybe he just wants to be alone and can't deal with your problems.
"I'm not angry," he starts, "you're just making a big deal out of absolutely nothing." By the end of it he begins to raise his voice, another thing he knows you aren't a fan of. You take a step back, a little confused at his ignorance. He's been with you through all the fights, why doesn't he understand how big of a deal this is to you?
As you're still trying to make sense of his previous statement, his voice quiets down, and he looks back down at his phone as he whispers, "Just like you always do."
"What is that even supposed to mean?" you ask, scared for the response. He glances up sharply, making true eye contact for the first time tonight.
"You're always crying over stupid shit, and I really can't handle it anymore,” he states angrily, his eyes not leaving yours the entire time. He finally breaks eye contact, and the tension explodes, painting the whole room red.
As dramatic as it sounds, it's like a knife to your heart, or perhaps more accurately a stab in the back. You know exactly what he means by that. It's like he was aiming for your most sensitive spots. With your anxiety, you tend to panic over things that don't usually matter much in other people's minds. Every time you have an anxiety attack or are just freaking out about something, you usually try to hide it. You worry that your friends won't take you seriously or will make fun of you over something they consider 'not a big deal'. You've confided in Hyunjin over this topic before. He's helping you get over that and come to them when you need help. So why is he now turning on you? Was it all an act before?
You feel your eyes start to tear up, but you hold them back. He cannot see you cry.
"Fuck you," you say, attempting to put venom behind it, but all that comes out is your shaky voice.
"Y/n, wait," Felix says sympathetically as you go to leave the room. Normally, you would stop and let Felix comfort you, but suddenly everything is feeling just a little too heavy and you can't seem to look him in the eye any longer. You stride out of the room, keeping your shoulders straight without even glancing back. You just need to stay strong until you make it into the hallway. You slam the door behind you despite typically being the one to argue when the other members to it. Your eyes are blurring too fast at this point to even recognize the fact that you probably should've shut it a bit quieter. It is a hotel and noise complaints are a thing, but, honestly, that is the least of your worries at the moment. You just keep replaying back the fight in your head trying to figure out what you did wrong. It had to be something, right?
You start down the hallway, cursing when you realize your room is at the other end of the hall. You hope the other boys can't hear your sobs, especially the two you just departed from. As much as you want to be comforted, it feels like you're past the point of no return and just want to be alone. You try to stifle your cries a bit with your hand, but it doesn't do much. You're heads getting a little too light, you're breathing getting harder to control. Your hands are shaking, and it seems like the crying is just starting. Some may call you sensitive, but when the tears start you simply begin to spiral. There's very little that can calm you down at that point. Hyunjin usually has to take you somewhere and help you take deep breaths especially before your concerts. But he's the one who started this mess. So, what are you supposed to do now?
You finally make it to your hotel room, barely being able to read the numbers, and you start to dig around in your pockets. You start to panic as you struggle to find your key card, but eventually you grasp the small rectangular piece of plastic and open the door.
Once inside, you shut the door, a bit calmer this time, and fall back against it. The only thing on your mind being the fact that you are finally in your own room, alone. You put your hands over your face, trying to quiet some of your senses. In the haste to get out of the situation, you completely failed to remember the problem that had started it all.
Minho is sitting in one of the beds; he had plenty of time to choose considering you just dropped your suitcase off and stormed off upon realizing the two of you would be rooming together. He's all cozy in his sweat pants and t-shirt, obviously thankful for your abrupt disappearance. He looks up, shocked to see you re-entering the room. He plans to make a jab of some sort, but immediately pauses upon seeing your state. It seems like you haven't even noticed that he's in there yet. He's never really seen you like this before, or at least not since he started pushing you away. Putting that aside, he accepts defeat realizing that you need someone. You need him.
Your eyes are covered as you cry quietly into your hands, pushing your head back into the wood behind you. You flinch slightly upon feeling strong arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you away from the hard door. However, you soon relax into the arms, enjoying the feeling of safety flood your system. The man is warm and gentle as he presses you against him, pushing your head into the crook of his neck.
"Follow my breathing," he whispers in your ear, sending goosebumps from your head to your toes. You try to listen to him, but all of your senses are so overwhelmed that you can't seem to focus on anything. Feeling like a fool, you begin to cry harder, immediately sending you back to the fight with Hyunjin.
"Honey," he starts, "you just have to take a deep breath. I don't want you to pass out on me." Hearing the quiet voice in your ear helps bring your mind back to the present. Trying to focus on the instructions, you begin to notice the chest rising and falling slowly against yours. You can even feel the man's calm heart beat against your racing one.
Following the normally simple order, you try to take a deeper inhale resulting in a few hiccups and more tears. One of the arms around your shoulder falls and his hand begins to rub your back gently. As you focus on the sensation, your breathing starts to even out, just as Minho had hoped.
Once you are in a slightly better state, he moves you over to the bed. Setting you down on the edge, he kneels in front of you and softly pulls your hands away from your face. You instinctively bow your head, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep from facing the man in front of you.
Minho reaches his hand out, bringing your face back up towards his. You slowly open your eyes at the gentle touch. He's looking right back at you, a soft expression covering his face. He hasn't looked at you like that in years. He practically lights up when your eyes meet his.
A smile grows on his face, as he quietly says, "There you go, kitten." Your face flushes at the nickname, and you hear Minho giggle softly at your blushing cheeks. He used to call you that all the time. A fan had once greeted the two of you at a fan meet saying how you both had the same energy as cats. So from that day on, he had called you that nickname constantly, earning well-deserved teasing from the other boys. Yet, it had all stopped out of nowhere.
'He doesn't care about you anymore,' you remind yourself. You pull away from him roughly and stand up from the bed. You take a few steps away from him, the comfort you had felt being ripped away in seconds. This was too confusing. He can't ignore you for years and suddenly act normal. That isn't how this works.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" you ask him, just wanting some sort of explanation. He slowly stands up, his soft look from before transforming into a look of pure regret.
"What are you talking about? You're upset and I care about you," he calmly explains, obviously ignoring the elephant in the room. But you can see it in his eyes; the nerves, the regret, and the sadness painting itself across his irises.
"You hate me,” you say, leaving no room for discussion. You were sick of being left in the dark and being turned on. You just want to know, what happened?
"You don't really believe that do you?" he asks as his body language changes. He reaches a hand up, pulling a little too roughly against his hair as he looks down at the ground.
"I mean-" you start to say but are cut off by a small sniffle coming from across you.
The culprit looks up at you again, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Minho never cries. It's just one of those things. So he wipes them away and says the last words you would ever imagine him speaking to you.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers genuinely, "I never meant to make you feel that way, but I guess that's what it's come to, hasn't it?"
You stand stiffly, staring at him. You had never seen the man look so defeated. You are even more confused about where the two of you stand than you have ever been.
"But I don't get it, you're just so mean. I don't know how you couldn't hate me."
"I could never hate you,” he states staring at you. His eyes are so deep that you can see exactly what he's feeling, and you realize, this is it. He's an open book. This may be the one time you get to see under the surface of Lee Minho since those days of friendship all those years ago.
"Then why did you push me away?" you ask, taking advantage of his state.
"I was just so scared. I thought you would hate me if you found out..." he trails off. You simply wait for him to finish his sentence, but he never does. He just looks back at you in hopes that you understand what he's trying to say. A silence builds, and Minho takes a deep breath before continuing.
"I love you and I was just too scared in case it would ruin the group," he says, finally letting the truth escape after years of secrets. The shock of the statement leaves you speechless, simply staring at your old best friend.
After a few seconds of building tension, you can’t help but start to giggle, leading to near hysterics with more tears springing to your eyes. You had thought you had cried all of them out, but it looks like you were wrong. There's no way that's the reason. If only he had been honest with his feelings, then you would've never been in this situation in the first place.
He looks surprised at your laughing, and his whole body seems to deflate.
'Hopefully he doesn't think I'm laughing at him', you think. There's no way they had messed up communication that bad to let it get to this point.
"You should have said that, Minho. I was so in love with you," you state gently, trying not to bewilder the poor man. He looks up, and there's pure excitement on his face. It's beautiful to see compared to his earlier expressions, and you're reminded of all those little reasons you love him. All those reasons that have been buried down due to his obliviousness.
"Really?" he says, taking a step closer to you. Your cheeks heat up upon realizing that you really did just reveal one of your darkest secrets.
He takes another step closer, his face now only inches from yours. You feel his arms wrap sweetly around your waist. You glance down at his lips; they're slightly chapped, but honestly, it's just all part of what makes Minho, Minho. Your eyes go back up to meet his, and you can see the tension and nerves drawn upon his face. You quickly close the distance, making the decision you should have made all those years ago.
Minho doesn't pull away, instead immediately melting into the kiss, bringing one hand up to delicately cup your cheek. This may be one of the softest moments you have ever witnessed from Minho, and man do you want more.
You don't kiss for long, it's short and sweet, but it means so much more. Within it is everything you had wished you could've said to each other since the beginning.
You both pull back, a laugh leaving both of your mouths as you take in how outrageous the situation is. He pulls you close again, his head falling on your shoulder.
"I promise, I will never ever treat you like that again. You mean so much to me," he whispers. You bring a hand up to pet the back of his hair, pulling back just enough to give him a kiss on the cheek.
The two of you eventually pull away as your eyelids begin to droop. You realize how late it has gotten, neither of you noticing with all the drama that has unfolded. You quickly change into your pajamas and get ready to go to sleep.
You end up in the same bed with your head lying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair. Despite how sleepy you both feel, you know there is so much more to talk about and neither of you will be able to fall asleep.
Minho breaks the silence, asking you the dreaded question, "So, what happened? Did someone hurt you?"
"Hyunjin and I fought. He said some very hurtful things." I reply sadly, the memories of the fight resurfacing.
"You two are so close, I'm sure he didn't mean it. You know how upset he gets when we’re on tour for so long. He gets aggravated having to be around us all the time, but it was still messed up for him to be so mean to you."
You laugh at his response, "Yeah, like you can talk."
"Hey!" he says dramatically. You both giggle, and despite the tough topic, the tension seems to melt away. It always used to be that way with Minho. It's as if the two of you were made for each other. Everything just felt so much better and easier around him. Suddenly, everything in life was a lot sweeter.
"But seriously, don't worry about it too much, kitten. Felix will take care of it, and Hyunjinnie will be running back to you by the morning."
Part 2 out now!
#slvt4felix#stray kids#skz#lee know#hyunjin#felix#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#enemies to lovers#hurt/comfort#skz angst#stray kids angst#stray kids imagine#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz oneshots#stray kids oneshot#stray kids ninth member#skz ninth member#stray kids 9th member#skz 9th member#lee minho
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love thy neighbor
member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader
genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending
word count — 5.1k
synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him.
warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet
notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!
joshua should be asleep right now.
really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week.
but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.
maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.
the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.
really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you.
and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.
except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.
having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t).
he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.
a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.
so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.
he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.
oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)
but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)
so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you.
but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own.
after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.
god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.
earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.
were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.
but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).
you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you.
he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.
which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.
it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out.
so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?
either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.
you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?
“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.
you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.
“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”
you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.
cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.
the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic.
but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.
when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.
of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks.
pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.
unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.
he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day.
on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?
on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.
if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.
in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.
joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.
but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.
he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.
he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all.
but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.
but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.
so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.
hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away.
he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.
he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.
okay
he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.
it’s nothing. don’t worry
joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong.
so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.
you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”
finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”
he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.
“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”
“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.
“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.
you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.
“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”
you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”
“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”
“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh.
he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”
“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”
“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”
“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”
his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”
“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands.
joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.
“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”
he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”
you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”
“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”
“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.
now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”
“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.
“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”
you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”
his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.
you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.
“so about the walls thing—”
“hm?” he mumbles.
“—you can really hear everything?”
he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”
your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”
he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”
“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.
“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”
you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.
“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”
you pout. “that was only that one time!”
“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”
heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder.
“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.
“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.
“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.
“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.
you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”
you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.
the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach.
“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”
you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.
“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”
“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.
joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin.
“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”
after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.
“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.
your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”
“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.
you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?
your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.
he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.
“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.
“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.
his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.
you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?
he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.
“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”
you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.
and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.
even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out.
with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.
with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.
“joshua?”
“mhm?”
“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.
he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.
even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin.
laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back.
but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.
i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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Hope we make it to the Cloud.
♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗
SUMMARY: Amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. The lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. However, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. They decide to send over one Bada Lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. You just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.
WORD COUNT: 10k
CW: eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (but i promise it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was meant to be pure smut but it became much longer than i intended ... oops for that . . . lets just roll with it!!1 also the choreo described is heavily inspired by tinashes bouncin.
- you don't care about those 7k words worth of boring build up? skip to this line: <After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”>
————— ୨୧ —————
The first thing you notice is how surprisingly gentle her voice is.
“I’m Bada, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
Bada Lee stood tall in front of you, clad in an oversized jersey, cargo pants and a cap hugging her forehead in such a way her eyes were entirely obscured from your view. She promptly bowed after she spoke. Unsure where to look, you dropped your gaze and followed suit; vaguely aware of her seniority and bowing deeper.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” You tried to keep your own voice as neutral as possible, but agitation bubbled in your chest as you felt your manager’s prodding, eager eyes behind you. “Thanks for being here.”
Your team was much more excited about this collaboration than you were.
None of the aggravation you felt was Bada’s fault. It had been three weeks of your creative team dismissing every choreo draft you came up with: Three weeks of sleepless nights at the dance studio, tiring out yourself and your background dancers. Three weeks of browsing through videos sent in by other choreographers across the country, attempting to mix bits and pieces together but none of it ever feeling right. Three weeks filled with reminders of a deadline looming over your head. Three weeks of your team letting you know they had little confidence in this comeback. Your last attempt at showing them what you had come up with had ended up in a shouting match. Your manager, who you otherwise got along with just fine, bluntly stated that, perhaps, this concept simply wasn’t something you could pull off.
It had left you feeling betrayed. Your creative team had agreed it was time for you to approach a more mature concept, something that you felt was years overdue. But it seemed their definition of mature and yours were wildly different. You had worked hard on perfecting a set of songs to choose from, but you immediately butted heads with the rest of the team. You wanted to do the bouncy and playful R&B track. Your team wanted the EDM track. Eventually they relented, but now seemed hellbent on making it as difficult as possible for your vision to come to fruition. Putting together the visual board for the concept photos and the eventual music video was a similarly arduous process. You had to meet in the middle and sacrifice a lot of your initial ideas, but that procedure was almost pleasant compared to what you were dealing with in regards to the choreography.
Every idea you put forward was promptly shut down. Too complicated. Too boring. No TikTok challenge potential. Too sexy.
And maybe it was true. Your formations weren’t as clean as the ones thought up by a professional choreographer, but you weren’t really given a chance at all. It wasn’t like you were a bad dancer either. Far from it. You picked up choreos incredibly fast and had always played an active part in brainstorming past routines alongside your background dancers. You had more experience than most of your peers, yet you were treated as if you were still the same teenaged trainee from years ago.
“Is that really how you all feel?” You had whispered after your manager dropped that bombshell, searching for an answer in the facial expressions of your creative team. Most of them were not even willing to meet your eyes.
“We just need to be realistic.” Your manager stated matter-of-factly. “That other song is still an opt—”
“I am not changing the song.” You cut him off. Momentarily, your manager looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. “Sorry.” You added quickly, albeit a bit flustered.
“Look,” He sighed, “We can do mature without shocking the nation. Let's keep it mild for now and maybe after two or three more singles, you can go all out.”
“I haven’t been 18 in years, you know.” You retorted bitterly. Something inside you understood where he was coming from, but you had been obedient since your debut- how much longer should you wait? You didn’t want to sacrifice any more of your creativity, so many years into your career. You had even seen one of your own concepts go to a labelmate instead, your own team dubbing you too “youthful” to pull it off.
“Okay, how about this,” He began with a frown, “Let us pick one of the choreographers’ drafts for you. You can finetune it with their guidance.”
Their pick had been Bada. You hadn’t even realized she sent in a draft: at one point you were so overwhelmed you just stopped checking your emails. You also hadn’t bothered to watch it before this meeting. You were genuinely too deep in your feelings about that whole ordeal for that. However, now that she was standing in the studio, tall height towering over you, you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious.
You had seen Bada around.
After all, she had worked with many of your labelmates before. You had also watched a fair amount of her videos. She was one of the best in the business, and whenever you had downtime to practice freely you scrolled through her routines on Youtube to help stay in shape. As you were facing her, even with half her face hidden, you understood why everyone was so stricken with her. When she had walked into the room she oozed with authority, though not in an obnoxious way.
“Great!” Your manager clapped his hands, effectively breaking your train of thought. “Thank you so much for supporting us, Bada. Shall we jump right in?”
“Sure,” She nodded eagerly, hands wringing together as her body turned towards you. “I kind of wanted to see what you had in mind for this choreo.”
That surprised you, and you were certain your facial expression wasn’t hiding it. Your manager held his breath. “Oh! Well—” You chewed on your lip as you vaguely motioned the corner of the room, trying to find the words. “I wanted to use… I wanted to use a trampoline.”
Bada immediately turned her head to follow your gestures, her eyes landing on the mini trampoline set up in the studio. “A trampoline?” In the background, your manager heaved a sigh.
You purposely ignored him and nodded, slowly: “I can show you, if you want.” You had hoped that sounded more self-assured to her than it did to you.
Bada scratched her chin, still looking off to the trampoline, and then nodded along with you. “I’d love to see it.”
You felt the tension in your chest ebb away. There was no malice to her tone; she seemed genuinely curious.
Then, Bada turned her head towards your manager, her ponytail falling off her shoulder. “I hope I'm not imposing but, I would like this to be a collaborative effort between the two of us. I think it would take the pressure off if you…?” She trailed off with a kind smile, one impossible to say no to.
As if he got doused with cold water, your manager stood up with an urgency. “Privacy! I can give you two some privacy, no problem!” He fussed around, gathering his things. “Just let me know when we can sit in on the finished product.”
The both of you bowed to him as you bid your farewells, watching him leave the studio with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, you could feel yourself exhale in relief. You knew that if your manager was going to sit in on every practice, he would go out of his way to shut down all of your ideas. Without him around, you had more opportunity to champion your vision- at least, you hoped so.
You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, before letting your eyes fall shut with a sigh, almost forgetting there was another person in the room.
“They’ve been on your case, huh?”
Bada's soft but clear voice broke you out of your spell, and you turned your head to search for a glimpse of eye contact. Tough luck, as her hat was still in place casting a shadow down her face. There was, however, a knowing smirk playing across her features.
“You have no idea.” You muttered honestly. Bada laughed.
“I don’t want to make you dance a routine you don’t fully stand behind. I did mean it when I said I want this to be a collaborative effort.” Bada spoke carefully, but sincerely, her fingers once again intertwining. “I always wanted to work with you, so it’s an honor.” She added.
If you got a penny for every time you were caught off guard today, you could set some humble savings aside for an early retirement.
It is true that you’ve been sought after, but it wasn’t something you had ever internalized. Hearing it come from someone who herself was heavily sought after, made your face heat up.
“T- thank you. It’s an honor to work with you too.”
She bowed her head humbly, glancing over to the corner of the studio again where the trampoline sat, waiting. “Do you feel comfortable showing me what you have been working on?”
You nodded and rushed to the corner to set up your speaker, and then dragged the trampoline to the center of the room. You were oddly aware of your own presence, and almost felt the urge to make yourself smaller as you moved around. In the meantime, Bada was getting comfortable: she had dropped her things on a nearby table and left out a bottle of water. To her it must be a regular working day, but to you this felt scarier than getting up on stage.
Once you stood behind the trampoline, facing the wide stretched mirror filling up one side of the room, you stole a glance at the choreographer who was now crouched on the floor. She had pulled out a small camera and was setting it up on the edge of the table, making sure the lens was focused on your position. Long fingers fiddled with the buttons, and her tongue was prodding the hollow of her cheek. The angle allowed you to finally catch a glimpse of her eyes.
As if on cue, she glanced up at you. Your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and your heart raced.
She gave you a soft smile and moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, the camera now fully set up. “I usually record everything, so we can watch it back and give feedback.”
Right, of course.
“Yeah, that’s usually how we operate as well.” You spoke timidly, and it was true. Yet something about having her attention on you felt more intimate. Usually there was at least one other person from your creative team looking on as well.
Trying to come across casual, you tied your hair up in a high ponytail. “What do you think of the song?” You asked curiously.
It was now Bada’s turn to be caught off guard. Her smile faltered and she broke the eye contact you had been sharing, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “I like it.” She began. “A lot, actually. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. There isn’t anyone doing a song like this nowadays.”
Even though her body language was confusing, you couldn’t find any dishonesty in her voice. What she said made you feel relieved, some of your insecurity fading to the background. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it.
You sent a smile her way even though you weren’t sure she was even looking at you.
Proving you wrong, she smiled back.
“Alright, so,” You gestured to the trampoline at your feet. “The idea is, the other dancers and I all do the same routine. I'll be front and center. Four or six other dancers dance behind me, with their own trampoline.” You gave the trampoline a light shove with your foot, making sure it would stay in place, and then grabbed your phone. “Then you have an idea.”
You looked over your shoulder at Bada and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. “Ready?” You asked.
Bada pressed a button on the camera and mimicked your thumbs up with a smile. “Ready when you are.”
You faced the mirror again and shook your shoulders a bit, forcing your body to loosen up. After twisting your neck a few times, you hit play on your phone, quickly placing it under the trampoline as the familiar synths of the song started blaring from the speakers. You tried to feel the confidence you were usually able to conjure up on stage, closing your eyes and swaying your hips, ponytail moving from side to side.
As soon as you heard your own voice through the speakers, instrumentals going deeper, you got into position. Your eyes opened up to focus on your own reflection in the mirror as if it was a fan in the crowd watching. Mouthing along to the lyrics, a playful smile on your lips, you hit every move as you had envisioned. Once the chorus came up, you dropped to your knees on the trampoline, grappling the edge as you performed the routine. Pushing back against the springs gave you the velocity to keep your moves fluid, your body twisting and turning, flipping over and hitting the next move. You made sure to move your hips deftly, aware that you had enough curves to allow you to pull it off, and kept your facial expressions in line. It had to look effortless.
You felt your ponytail swing along with your movements as if it were an extension of you, and sat up on the trampoline. The chorus came to an end and you used your arm strength to twist yourself around fast enough, gracefully falling back on your chest whilst keeping your toes en pointe in your sneakers. The tips of your fingers were touching the floor as your legs crossed, moving to rest your elbow on the edge of the trampoline and resting your chin atop your palm. You lip synced to the final words of the chorus, gaze alluring as you finished the move, and the music stopped.
You slowly sat up straight on the trampoline, crossing your legs, and slid your hand underneath to hit pause on your phone. You looked towards Bada expectantly, but the question got stuck in your throat. She was staring at you, mouth slightly agape, with an unreadable expression. For a split second you were reminded of your trainee days, when you had just finished a routine and were met by your choreographers’ stern faces; they wouldn’t spare you a single compliment, and instead listed off every mistake you had made.
But then, Bada blinked once and then twice, as if in a daze, and let out a soft “woah”. She started applauding you, shaking her head in bafflement. You felt your shoulders drop in relief.
“That was incredible!” The choreographer took off her cap, fixing her bangs before putting it back on. “You came up with this?”
You nodded slowly, the tips of your ears glowing hot. “I used to be a gymnast.”
“I can tell—” Bada spoke bluntly, but then snapped her mouth shut as if she said something wrong. “I mean, that was really good. Every part of your body was in command. Your team didn’t like it?”
“They think it’s too much, compared to my usual routines.” You had the urge to go off on a tangent, but ultimately you didn’t know Bada well enough. Unfortunately, you were naturally quite expressive and the disapproving frown on your face was on clear display.
“Too much? I kind of wanted more, actually.” She laughed softly, looking down to where her legs were crossed. You felt your heart skip a beat and bowed your head in lieu of a thanks.
Subsequently, the bright green light of the camera caught your attention. It was still recording.
“Hey, I think the camera is still on.” You spoke before you realized, and hoped it didn’t sound accusatory.
“Huh? Oh!” Her expression was almost akin to a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, the way she swiped at the camera to turn it off. “Sorry. Good call.” She mumbled shyly, tucking it behind her.
You weren’t sure what to say next, still flustered at her lofty praises, but luckily Bada broke the momentary silence.
“I had an idea…” She began, her hand rubbing at her chin pensively. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to watch my draft yet?”
You shook your head abashedly. “No, sorry, I honestly didn’t get to it.”
“It’s fine.” Bada waved her hands dismissively. “Maybe instead of doing the trampoline routine in every chorus, we could only do it in the middle? Exactly as it is. I wouldn’t change anything. And then for the other two choruses, we could keep some key moves but keep it on the floor.”
You mulled it over for a second, glancing up at the ceiling contemplatively. Using the trampoline the whole way through was not an option, according to your team. They had felt you were toeing the line with ‘raunchy’ much too closely. Perhaps you could find middle ground this way, while still keeping the part of the routine you felt most proud of.
“Okay.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “We would need something special for the final chorus, then.”
“I had another idea for that, if you’re fine with it. Would you like to watch my draft with me?”
————— ୨୧ —————
Her draft was good. Really good, actually.
Bada and you were sitting on the floor next to each other, the taller girl holding her phone out in front of you as the draft played on the screen. You were sitting quite closely together, but not close enough to be touching, a conscious decision on your part. You were a bit too aware of her presence, something about her was heightening your senses in a variety of ways. It wasn’t even as if she was stern or unkind, she just had an aura that intimidated you. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.
A blonde girl you didn’t recognize was dancing your parts. Six other dancers, one of them being Bada, were in formation behind her performing the choreography perfectly in sync as your song played in the background. While you should really be paying attention to the girl in the center, your eyes couldn’t leave Bada’s figure. In the video she was dressed in loose-fitting cargo pants, just like today, and a crop top. Once again she wore a cap covering half her face, and even a face mask, but her hair hung loose over her shoulders.
You were always impressed by the small movements she was able to squeeze in, emphasizing certain parts in ways the other dancers weren’t able to. However, it was the final chorus that had your hands turn clammy.
The final chorus was a duet formation. Bada, with a quiet confidence in her step, and the blonde girl moved towards each other in the center of the room. They were effectively dancing for each other, the blonde girl whipping her head back as Bada stared her down, swaying their hips together rhythmically. Their steps were coordinated in such a way they almost mirrored, Bada rolling her body one way and the blonde girl moving the other; but it still felt cohesive. It was an intimate choreo. There were a few split moments of hips grinding against crotches, but it never lasted long enough to be straight up inappropriate. Still, you couldn’t help but realize you would have to practice this routine with Bada as well, and you felt yourself getting hot under the collar.
The choreo ended with the blonde girl giving Bada a playful shove, and the taller girl backed away slowly, a saunter in her step, before moving off the screen along with the other background dancers. The video ended and Bada dropped her phone in her lap, not looking at you.
“That was good.” You were relieved your voice came out evenly, and Bada started nodding in her trademark way, hands clasped together. “The formations were really clean and— I loved the final chorus.” You blurted.
She smirked, head raising and meeting your eyes for the second time today. You were starting to feel eager, greedily watching.
“I’m glad to hear. We definitely need to finetune the first chorus, line it up with your routine and all that. I really don’t want to lose your input.”
“That sounds great, thank you.” You felt a surge of gratitude in your chest, and shot her a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to working on this together.”
Bada dropped her gaze again, worrying her lower lip. You felt miffed at the brusque interruption of your shared eye contact but didn't show it.
“I suggest we start with practices tomorrow, we will edit the first chorus as we go,” She whipped out her phone, looking at her calendar. “We should practice the duet together until you’ve got a handle on it, and then I can bring over some of my guys to prep for the actual performances. I know someone for my part. He’s worked with some of your labelmates before, I’m confident he’s right for the job.”
You couldn’t tell if you were anxious at the prospect of practicing such a choreo with Bada, or if you were disappointed that the eventual product wouldn’t be performed with her. It made sense, though. If your label was already worried your concept was too mature for the country, having two women perform such a choreography wouldn’t be received well at all.
“Great. Same time tomorrow, just the two of us again?”
“Same time tomorrow,” The third time she was willing to meet your eyes, and once again with a small smile playing across her features. “Just the two of us.”
————— ୨୧ —————
Working with Bada the past few days has been surprisingly easy.
On the first day, she brought some iced coffee for the both of you and presented it with an exaggeratedly deep bow, holding out the plastic takeout bag in front of her as if she was a lackey presenting you a treasure. You giggled, muttering an incredulous “thank you” as you took the bag from her hands. Through sips of coffee, the both of you fast forwarded through the recordings trying to piece the choreography together. You were able to bounce ideas off of her in a way you never felt comfortable enough doing with other choreographers. Bada was attentive, patient and, above all, eager.
On the second day, you wanted to repay your debt and entered the studio with a box of doughnuts. She let out a surprisingly girlish squeak when you laid the box on the table, and barreled over to grab one. That day she was wearing a beanie instead of a cap, something you inadvertently preferred as you could now lock eyes and take in her features. Sometimes you had the impression she was hellbent on looking anywhere except into your eyes, but you didn’t want to mull it over for too long; some people just had a different way of interacting. Everything else about her still left you with a warm feeling.
Sometimes you both took turns performing for each other. She would pull her beanie further down her head as she took the center of the studio, and each time something inside you would brace itself. You could only watch in awe: her movements were sharp and magnetic, her entire body language changing in the blink of an eye. While your attention should be on her footwork, you were instead hypnotized by the sway of her hips, greedily drinking her in. You chalked it up to her being such a captivating dancer.
However, little could explain how much you relished in her undivided attention. When it was your turn to copy the moves, you made sure to give it your all and put on a show. Without a hat obscuring her eyes, you could tell where her eyes were looking and it wasn’t always on your reflection in the mirror. You swore you could feel her gaze burning in your lower back, but you didn’t mind. It encouraged you to hit your moves a bit harder than you usually would.
“You’re a fast learner,” Bada said at the end of the day, drinking from her water bottle as you watched her throat bob. “Keep it up and you won’t need me anymore.”
You didn’t like the sound of that.
————— ୨୧ —————
By the fifth day, the both of you had started working through the details of the duet.
The familiar song sounded through the speakers, the room filled with the sound of your singing voice and the squeaking of your sneakers on the floor.
You were painfully aware of the way Bada closely danced behind you but you kept your eyes down, forcing yourself to keep track of your footwork. You bent over slightly at the start of the next line, your hips popping out and letting your hair whip to the side as you hummed along to the lyrics. In tandem, Bada moved her hips the opposite direction but gyrated closer to you, her hand coming up to tug her cap lower. You spared the mirror a glance for a split second, realizing Bada was much closer to you than you had realized, but you pushed the thought away.
You looked good together.
“Pause real quick.” She spoke suddenly, stepping away from you and bending over to stop the song. You immediately halted your movements at the command, trying to control the heaving of your chest and willing away the warmth of your cheeks.
She stood up again, meeting your eyes in the mirror before steadying herself behind you, body close to yours.
“You’re doing great, but,” A tentative hand slid to your hip, fingers curling over in a loose grip as she subtly urged it to move to one side. Both your eyes remained locked through the mirror. “I think we should move together in this part. Like this.” She repeated the motion, her grasp on your hip tightening ever so slightly before pulling you flush against her pelvis. Her hips rocked along with yours, and you could only follow.
She hummed close to your ear, and you felt her breathe along the side of your face. “Just like that.” Her voice was quiet, gentle even, though her stare was everything but that. It was intense.
In an attempt to sound casual you replied with an “okay”, but it came out softer than you had hoped for.
Her eyes dropped from the mirror, opting to look down at you directly, but you couldn’t find the confidence to return the favor. “You should do that thing again," she continued quietly, "Where you throw your hair back, but look at me when you do it.”
You repeated your steps, but this time both her hands came down to hold your hips in place. You turned your head as requested, your hair falling over your shoulder as your eyes finally met. Her gaze was intense but undecipherable; she hadn’t been looking at the mirror at all this time.
Bada was so close, unblinking and heady. The thought entered your mind before you fully realized: if you craned your neck you could kiss her. In a careful motion, you felt her hands slide up and down slowly, smoothing along the curve of your hips.
“Perfect.” She said, and it sounded so intimate you felt lightheaded. Usually she voiced her approval with an animated smile and a thumbs up, but she spoke to you as if she was scared you would set off running. “You got it. You want to try that again with music?”
You nodded slowly and her hands dropped from your hips, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. As she bent down to turn the song back on, you brought the back of your hand up to your cheek; checking if it was as warm as you felt. Then you ran your fingers through your ponytail, tightening the hair tie with a sharp tug in an attempt to snap yourself out of whatever daze you had fallen into.
It meant nothing. She had merely workshopped a move and there was no need to feel so nervous.
The final chorus of the song began thumping again and the both of you got into your starting positions. Bada’s presence was palpable behind you, but you tried to force your head back into performance-mode. You kept your moves sharp, lip synced as if the voice came directly from your own throat and smiled playfully at all the right lines.
As the instrumentals of the final chorus got louder, you twirled a finger around your ponytail, playing with the imaginary crowd in front of you. Bada pressed up against your back. Your hips moving in tandem just as the choreo required and you could no longer repress the urge to grind back against her. You saw Bada smirk in the mirror, her eyes obscured by her cap, but you could tell she was enjoying your blunt display of confidence. That made you laugh for real, putting an extra ‘oomph’ into the roll of your hips, dropping even lower, and feeling Bada take what you gave her with a great amount of enthusiasm. You heard the choreographer let out a "woo!" and you giggled.
At the very end of the choreo, you were meant to face Bada and push her away; making room for a final solo moment. So you turned around, meeting that familiar mischievous grin and your hand came up to curl into her collar. Bada sucked in her lower lip, greedily towering over you and looking down expectantly.
But something about the giddy atmosphere had you feeling bold, so you tugged her even closer instead. Her mouth fell open, but she followed you down nonetheless, eyes becoming half-lidded. You were mere inches removed from each other, and her breath fanned across your face. For a split second her gaze lingered on your lips, and you held your breath, heart fluttering in an unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting thought told you to bridge the gap, pull her impossibly closer by the grip you had on her collar, but your body acted before your brain could.
You reached for her cap and tugged it off her head, putting it on yourself in one swift movement and then shoved her away as you were supposed to do; effectively breaking the spell. You turned on your heel to look back at your reflection in the mirror, consciously blocking Bada from your periphery and closed out the song. The music stopped.
Now that the studio was quiet you could hear the both of you catching your breaths, and rather than facing Bada while your face was still heating up, you flopped onto the floor, limbs spread out. You moved Bada’s cap atop your face, blocking out the bright lights of the practice room, feeling exceptionally winded.
You felt Bada sit down next to you and she promptly pulled her hat off your face.
“Ow,” You uttered lamely, arms coming up to cover your face instead. Surely the shame you felt was on wide display and you had to save the little bit of the reputation you had left. You could already hear her voice, albeit uncharacteristically, echo in your head: “What was that?” “Why didn’t you just stick to what I told you?” “That was highly unprofessional.” Your stomach churned.
But instead she said: “That was incredible.”
“Huh.” You exclaimed unintelligently. You tentatively moved your arms from your face and were met with Bada staring you down, her hat back in place. It would probably be too weird if you went back into hiding, so you dropped your arms uselessly.
“That was incredible,” she repeated, a fond smile on her lips. “You are incredible. I’m telling you, we’ve got a hit on our hands.” She extended her arms excitedly, as if she had to convey the sheer magnitude of potential you both had crafted.
“You really think so?” You sounded breathless, the warmth in your chest blossoming.
“I know so. Seriously? If your team doesn’t like this, they’re idiots.” Her bluntness kicked a laugh out of you, and you playfully whacked her knee. “No, I mean it!”
“It wasn’t too much?” Slowly you sat up, tugging at the front of your shirt clinging uncomfortably to your body from the sweat.
Bada tilted her head, blinking at you sympathetically as she weighed your words carefully.
“I’ve already told you,” her voice was quiet, as if she was worried someone else might overhear, “I can’t get enough of you. The same goes for the public, by the way.”
That made you want to kick your feet like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fought the impulse to fall into her arms. Instead, you dropped your head with a timid smile hoping that did enough to show your gratitude.
Bada placed a hand on your shoulder with a touch so soft she might as well be reassembling a broken vase, urging you to look at her. “Let's take a break, order some bubble tea and then watch the recordings. Sound good?”
You leaned into the touch with exhilaration. “Yeah. My treat, though.”
————— ୨୧ —————
The tenth day coincided with a photoshoot in the morning. You had gotten up at 4am to get to the location early enough so that there was enough room for your stylists to get to work.
The first thing you noticed was the visual board you had worked on tirelessly a few weeks prior.
It had changed.
Some of the images jumbled around or left out entirely, replaced by ones you did not recognize or even liked to begin with. Even the color scheme had changed. Before you could ask your manager about it, however, your hair stylist beckoned you to follow her into the booth. Still groggy, with just a protein shake in your belly to keep you at bay, you followed without objection.
But then, after you emerged fully made up with your hair in intricate braids and ribbons, you saw the backdrop you were going to work with and the outfits you would be wearing: they looked nothing like what you had agreed on.
Once sown into the baby pink corset, you looked at your reflection in the mirror with a glassy expression, too exhausted to even express the anger that was simmering in your chest.
“What happened to the costume I commissioned?” You asked your manager in a flat voice, fully realizing you wouldn’t like whatever the answer would be.
“Oh,” But he didn’t sound surprised at all, “We didn’t really like how it turned out, so we decided to go with something else. Pink looks good on you, you know.” He added hurriedly.
You blinked, clenching and unclenching your jaw. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in front of all the staff. Firstly, it wasn’t their fault; secondly, word got around quickly and the last thing you needed was a trending blind item about diva behavior. With great difficulty you swallowed the venom down your throat and walked over to the camera crew without sparing your manager a single glance. Bowing to everyone separately, you turned on the autopilot. You just needed to get through the day. You posed for the flashing of the cameras, turning your brain off.
“That’s a wrap! Great work, all.” The photographer’s voice snapped you out of your daze, and you slowly stumbled away from the backdrop, blinking back tears.
“Great job everyone, thank you for your hard work.” You hoped your voice sounded even and hurried away to get changed.
Once alone in your dressing room, you bent over the sink with your hands in your hair. You didn’t understand. They had seen the choreography Bada and you had worked on, and approved. They had been enthusiastic even, and it felt like your team and you had finally buried the hatchet. Now you understood why they were so pliant in their acceptance of the final choreo; they had found something else to exert their control over. You didn’t want to cry, so you grit your teeth and untied your hair, fingers smoothing out where the braids had been.
Bada.
In the bustle of the early morning you had almost forgotten you were meant to start your first practice with the entire dance crew today, with Bada as the lead choreographer ensuring everything played out exactly according to your collaborative vision. It had been almost two days since you had last seen her, yesterday being a day off for the both of you, and for some reason it felt like a lifetime.
You wanted to see her, but you weren’t sure if you could dance today.
You arrived at the studio about an hour later, right on time, with most of your makeup cleared from your face and dressed in joggers and a crop top. This time you were sporting a cap as well, hoping the dancers wouldn’t notice the fatigue etched on your face on your first day with them.
Everyone was already there. Some dancers stretching, others practicing and a few watching the recordings while in deep discussion with Bada. Her flannel shirt was bunched up at her elbows as she made grand gestures with her hands, explaining something to the dancers in front of her. As the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room, the tall girl perked up mid-sentence, shooting you a wide smile.
“Hey! I got you some coffee.” She spoke brightly, walking over to you in big strides as her loose braid fell off her shoulder. You had just finished bowing to everyone when you turned to Bada, feeling your chest swell at the sight of her. “How was the shoot?”
She must’ve noticed something. Perhaps it was the sag of your shoulder, the way you bit your lower lip or the exhaustion in your eyes; but her smile faltered slightly when she got a closer look.
“It went alright.” You spoke neutrally, unable to meet her eyes but adding a nod to come across as reassuring as possible. “Thank you for the coffee.”
Bada stood a bit helplessly but seemed to understand that prying any further would be futile. “Of course, it was my turn, after all.” She smiled carefully. “You wanna get started?”
“Let’s do that.” You agreed, hoping that dancing would get your mind off of things.
Bada gathered everyone together and gave a small speech, making a conscious effort to do all the talking so you could comfortably hide the swelling insecurity you felt deep in your chest. You nodded at the right times, smiled at the dancers (some of them peeking at you in awe) and tried to come across relaxed.
Once Bada finished talking, she called for everyone to get in position as she strode to the far end of the room, where she had the most optimal view. You moved to the front, right next to your trampoline, facing the mirror and vaguely took note of a tall guy with a buzzcut who now stood in the spot Bada did when you had been practicing with her. Something about her not being part of the dance anymore, even though you perfectly knew this was going to be the plan all along, made you feel even less secure.
You shook your limbs loose, trying to empty your head for the sake of the dancers who were all blind to your inner turmoil and instead incredibly excited to be here. You did not want to waste their time. Once again, you forced yourself into auto pilot.
The song started playing, bubbling synths building up to your first lines, and you danced. You danced as you had practiced with Bada, but weren’t able to envision the crowd in front of you. Instead you relied on muscle memory, which worked out well enough. Even when the tall guy was behind you for the duet, hips grazing yours, you didn’t feel very aware of your surroundings at all. Sometimes you all had to stop midway when Bada noticed that someone was offbeat or out of position, but you slid back into the moves easily. The team was strong, too. You danced the choreo once, twice, thrice and a fourth time. When you grabbed the guy’s collar, you pushed him back immediately, unlike what you had practiced with Bada, and finished your move.
Bada clapped her hands together with a cheer.
“That was solid, everyone!” She strode over, giving everyone a thumbs up. “Some things we have to smooth over, but we are way ahead on schedule. Let’s take five. I— Are you okay?”
You barely realized your own actions until you felt the warm tears run down your cheeks. You had sat down on the trampoline in such an unceremonious way, body shaking from exertion as you tried to hold back hiccups. Panic began crawling up your body and into your throat. Suddenly aware of the dancers seeing you in such a state, you took your cap off and held it in front of your face.
“Actually, since we are ahead on schedule, let’s make this a short day.” Bada’s authoritative voice declared to the entire room. The dancers nodded along nervously, glancing at your hunched figure with palpable worry. “Great work everyone, make sure to get home safe. Same time tomorrow.”
You croaked out a soft “Thank you, everyone” through your fingers, but your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t face them.
Footsteps rushed around the room, the dancers gathering their backpacks off the floor. You barely registered the hushed voices slowly echoing further and further away from you, until the door shut with finality; a lock sounding in place and silence reigning over the space.
Bada’s hands came to rest on your shoulders as you felt the trampoline sink with her added weight. Then she pulled you into her arms with a tenderness you had never experienced from anyone before. Your arms tightened around her frame in instinct, dropping your cap onto the floor, and your heart constricting painfully as you hid your face in her chest.
She didn’t speak as you hiccupped soundlessly, letting the exhaustion pour out of you with quivering shoulders. Bada’s hands traced comforting lines along your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head as she waited for the trembling of your body to subdue. In turn, you tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing lulling you.
After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”
You glanced up at her, tears still running down your cheeks as you choked back a particularly pathetic sob. “I’m sorry…”
Bada let out an affronted gasp, bringing her hands up to cradle your face instead and letting her thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”
“My team,” You began with a slurred speech, “They still don’t believe in me. They don’t think I can pull this off.”
Your voice sounded heartbroken: “They make sure to remind me every chance they get. My manager is certain I am going to embarrass the nation, because there is only one thing I can do and it’s not this. I can’t be sexy. I don’t have good ideas. And maybe they’re right! I don’t have the charisma to pull this off. My fans are going to hate it, because it’s not the person they wanted to support—” There was nothing you could do except keep going, like a faucet running, and Bada let you, “—I can’t even wear what I want. My visual board was cybercore inspired. I had a red PVC two piece outfit custom-made, but they put me in a pink dress and ballet shoes.” You added, horrified; not at the clothes, but at the clear disconnect between your team and you.
Bada, who was nodding along to your words with a serious expression up until that point, chuckled at your words, thumbs still catching tears. “Well I always thought you looked like a pretty princess, but that’s indeed a bit on the nose.”
The follow-up to your rant died in your throat, eyes widening at her words. Your brain was short circuiting. “You think I’m pretty?”
The taller girl scoffed at that, brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”
“Why?” You asked, genuinely.
For a moment she gawked at you, deep in thought and searching your face for insincerity. Bada was unable to find it.
“It’s not the only thing I think of you.”
Something about the atmosphere in the room changed when she spoke, and you almost forgot why you were upset in the first place. She carefully tucked your hair behind your ears, her eyes staring into yours unblinkingly. It reminded you of the way she had looked at you during practice days prior, when you had pulled her close by her collar for the first time. Her attention on you was suffocating, but you were glad to be drowning.
You sucked in your lower lip for a split second, releasing it, and waited with bated breath for her to continue. Her eyes dropped immediately, following your movements. She slid one hand down to the crook of your neck, slowly, the tips of her fingers tracing along your skin and leaving shivers in their wake; her other hand curled under your chin with a loose grip, tilting your head back slightly. Your head felt so heavy you could only lean in closer, wanting more of something you couldn’t even put in words.
But as always with Bada, she seemed to know what you wanted before you could open your mouth and ask for it. She closed the distance, brushing her lips against yours in a soft peck, and it was when you realized she was also holding her breath.
Her thumb trailed along your jawline, breath fanning over your lips. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly. You placed your hands on her thighs to brace yourself, your own lightheadedness overwhelming you, and nodded.
There was a shadow of a smirk on her lips when she kissed you a second time; lips connected with more force this time before gliding together in tandem. She tilted your head to get impossibly closer to you, her hand moving from your chin to tangle her fingers into your hair and cradling the back of your head. When her lips parted and closed around your bottom lip, nipping eagerly, you inadvertently let out a soft noise at the warmth of it all which only seemed to spur her on further.
You curled your hands into the front of her shirt as her back straightened, crowding around you as if her goal was to subdue, the trampoline creaking underneath your shared weight. She seemed to relish in overpowering you, inhaling sharply through her nose when you parted your mouth for her further.
You felt the tentative prod of her tongue, and accepted. The wetness made you shiver as she swallowed your quiet gasps. The hand that was previously nestled against your neck slid lower, began exploring along the curve of your waist and feeling the bare skin your crop top couldn’t reach to hide.
She parted the kiss, and you let out a soft whine. Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but ultimately failing, her eyes were drinking you in. You could only imagine what you looked like as even Bada was flushed all over, chest heaving from excitement. Then, as if she was reading your mind, her eyes glanced over to the mirror in front of you.
Bada shifted her position behind you, running her fingers through your hair before ultimately placing her palm against the other side of your waist. Steadily, as if she were correcting a move during practice, she turned your body to face the mirror. At this rate you simply accepted the effect she had on you, and wordlessly obeyed her ministrations. She planted her feet on the floor, long legs on either side of you; and ultimately caged you in, nestling her chin into the crook of your neck. Her eyes never left the mirror.
She brushed some of your hair over your shoulder as if she were propping up a doll, and spoke in a hushed voice: “Look at yourself.”
The sight made you feel all the more dizzy. Through half-lidded eyes you barely recognized your own reflection; hair slightly mussed and lips swollen and lovebitten. Someone did that to you. Bada did that to you.
The taller girl, pressed up against you, placed a kiss on your shoulder, fingers running up and down your body and making the hairs on your arms stand straight in exhilaration. You loved the way she touched you, how it made you feel; as if she was tracing the lines on an art piece. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your shoulder, “people would kill to see you like this.”
The honesty in her voice made something in your stomach roll. “Bada…” You began, but you didn’t even know what you wanted to say.
“You have no idea how other people look at you.” Her hands cradled the small of your waist, fingertips digging into your hips. “So let me show you how they look at you.”
She began kissing up your shoulder, soft and warm presses of her lips, before parting her mouth against your neck with a tangible hunger that left you sighing. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room and every inch you freed, she swarmed eagerly. Her tongue swirled against a patch of skin, hand flattening on your lower stomach as the other traced higher and higher, along your ribcage, before inquisitive fingertips moved under the hem of your top. As she sucked a mark onto your skin, you clenched your thighs together at the familiar sensation between your legs. Your eyes slowly fell shut as she crept up higher, lips pressing right below your earlobe with a barely-there hum.
She whispered: “Keep looking at yourself.”
You obeyed bashfully, right when Bada reattached her lips to your skin. She had been tracing lines along the hem of your sports bra, enthralled with the way you shivered in her grasp, before slipping a hand under; her hand was warm as she kneaded your breast, but your nipples stiffened at the sensation all the same. You pushed out your chest to convey your delectation, and she rewarded you by sinking her teeth into your skin. Suddenly, with a swift movement, both her hands hoisted up the hem of your top and bra, and pulled it upwards, your breasts releasing from its confines. The cold air made them perk up and Bada’s hands cupped the underside.
She detached her lips from your skin with a wet sound before looking up at the mirror, taking you in with her saliva-slicked mouth agape.
“So pretty,” Bada muttered, bringing your breasts a little higher, “Are you sensitive here?” She wondered loudly before tracing her thumbs right below your nipples. Once again your legs squeezed together, feeling yourself throb from excitement, and Bada picked up on the hint with a wide smile. “You are.”
In your reflection you saw Bada bring her fingers up to your mouth, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip imploringly, and you opened your mouth. She slipped her digit past, pushing it back against your tongue and you sucked obediently. Her eyes were drilling into yours through your reflection, enthralled by how pliant you were under her care.
You released the digit with a wet ‘pop’ and Bada promptly brought it to your nipple, rubbing it in circular motions as her other hand continued to knead your other breast. A quiet moan escaped you, chest rising into her touch and Bada giggled, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. Your own hands ached to touch her, but she kept you firmly locked between her legs; instead you squeezed her upper thighs, feeling her shapes through the baggy cargo she was sporting.
“Give me a kiss.” She commanded, and you immediately twisted your neck to capture her lips.
It was all teeth, wet noises echoing through the room as your tongue swirled against hers; the taller girl groaning into your mouth at the sheer force you exerted. She gave your nipples a pinch before rubbing her fingers over them repeatedly, and she swallowed your breathless moans greedily. You dug your nails into her thighs as she cupped your breasts again, her tongue slipping out of your mouth to trail along your bottom lip instead. Your head was chanting her name, getting drunk on the near delirious attention she gave you. Tilting your head back even further, you connected your lips again even though the angle was uncomfortable. You were starting to feel desperate, hips lightly rocking back against the firmness of her body as Bada sucked down on your tongue.
One of her hands released your breast and trailed down the expanse of your stomach, once again breaking the kiss and instead opt to look at you in the mirror. Her fingers found the knot of your joggers as your eyes met in the reflection, and she pulled on the string; untying it.
“Okay?” Bada inquired meaningfully, and you nodded much faster than you intended. “Let me hear you say it.” The tone of her voice, which was otherwise so gentle and quiet, made your full body shiver.
“I want it.” You spoke breathlessly, squirming impatiently between her legs as her fingers finally slipped down your pants.
She trailed along the sweatband of your underpants before cupping your heat over the fabric, fingers pressing against your folds inquisitively. Her eyes never left yours, quietly measuring your reactions. Unwittingly your thighs clamped around her wrist, breath hitching in your throat as she began to caress you with a touch so gentle it didn’t fit the precarious position you both were in.
“You’re so wet.” Bada spoke coyly, smirking at the way your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. She began rubbing circles over your covered folds, feeling your wetness spread as if on command. Your breathing turned into whining, subconsciously grinding back against her hand.
She removed her hand much to your distress, until you realized what she wanted: Bada began tugging the fabric of both your joggers and underpants down as far as she could, before giving your hip a commanding pat. You raised your hips to assist her ministrations, and she pulled the clothing down past your knees before you kicked them off fully.
Your thighs were pressed together when you got back in place and suddenly felt self-conscious at how exposed you were despite your own eagerness. Bada wasn’t having it: her eyes were taking in your figure, hands immediately coming down to smooth along your thighs. Then, she squeezed tightly and wrenched your thighs wide apart, making you expose yourself for her. Before you could instinctively close them, her long legs hooked over your ankles, forcefully keeping them in place. All of it only made you throb harder.
“You don’t want to know how often I’ve been thinking about this these past few days.” Her hands smoothing along your sides in marvel, cupping your breasts once more. The tip of her nose pressed against the shell of your ear. “How many times I’ve watched those recordings and imagined you, exactly like this.” Her fingers fit into your mouth once again, and you sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl along the digits as if you were starving for it. “I think I lost count.”
Her confession made you moan around her fingers, shivers running down your spine. She scooted back ever so slightly, pulling your hips back with her unoccupied hand until it was the angle she needed, and then dropped it between your legs. Her fingers spread your folds and she sucked in a breath, completely mesmerized by your reflection. You were still swallowing around her fingers and she hummed encouragingly, hand cupping your vagina and spreading your wetness across your heat.
She removed her fingers from your mouth and you caught your breath, fingers digging into her upper thighs as you braced yourself. As one hand kept your folds spread, the other, spit-slicked, began rubbing slow circles against you. You gasped at the sensation, mumbling her name in amazement. You raised your hand to the back of her head; grabbing a hold of her braid to simply have a hold of something, but it earned you a particularly sweet noise from the girl behind you. Your hips rocked back against her movements trying to find more friction in the right place, and Bada slowly sped up, moving her wrist up and down to try and find the spot that did it for you. Her lips pressed against the back of your neck so tenderly, and something about the dichotomy between that and the way she was touching you between your legs made your eyes roll back; lids closing as you thrusted back against her hand.
You didn’t understand how she was able to build up to that familiar knot in your stomach so soon, and it almost made you feel embarrassed, until you realized Bada was savoring every second of it. Her eyes never left your form, as if she were studying just another choreography, lips parted in an awestruck way. You had long foregone the urge to keep quiet, vocalizing exactly what she was doing to you: You let a particularly loud moan leave you when she rubbed along your most sensitive spot. Trying to pull more sounds from you, she pressed against your clit with more force and rubbed faster. Your hips could only chase her touch as your lower stomach constricted.
Bada brought her hand up to her own lips and lapped at her fingers, effectively pausing her motions for a split second and thus drawing a broken whine from you; both because her hand wasn’t where you needed it to be and also because she had no qualms about having you in her mouth. It didn’t last long: she hushed you soothingly as she put her hand back where you felt it belonged and used the added wetness to add faster friction against your clit. Your head rolled back and you tugged at her braid, pulling an attractive groan from the girl behind you.
You weren’t far away anymore. Your lower stomach was unbearably tight with desire and you were a gyrating, frantic mess against her hand while her fingers rubbed against you in vertical swipes, her name falling from your lips repeatedly as if you were reciting a prayer.
You managed to utter an “I’m close”, and Bada crowded against you before you could start begging her for release. “Come for me.” She demanded, and then immediately captured your mouth in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing together while she drank your sweet moans.
As if on cue, the tension in your stomach imploded and you gave her braid a sharp pull. You gasped into her mouth, no longer kissing each other but rather breathing each other's air, as your orgasm rippled through you.
You felt your whole body quiver and shake in pleasure as Bada led you through your release, thighs trembling despite the hold the choreographer’s legs had on you. Her fingers hadn’t left your core, but the rubbing slowed down until you were gasping at the overstimulation, yet unwilling to make her hands leave you. As if she read your mind her movements came to a halt, but she pressed her palm against you; almost possessively. She planted kisses along the side of your throat, whispering praises against your skin as you caught your breath.
Once you had the rise and fall of your chest under control, her arms curled around your waist in a fond embrace, and you turned your head to look directly at her. She had already been staring at you, meeting your eyes with a bashful smile. The two of you laughed at each other, and Bada pressed your foreheads together.
“That,” You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you relished in her open affection: “Was amazing, thank you.”
“Was happy to do it.” She responded playfully, rubbing the tip of your noses together affectionately.
“Will this happen every time I get self-deprecating?”
“I definitely intend to do this more often, but you could also just ask nicely.” Bada retorted with a smirk before pecking your lips. You giggled, putting your hands over hers and leaning back into the embrace.
After several more shared kisses and hushed whispers, both of you decided to get a move on: you were starting to get cold in your exposed state so Bada urged you to get up. She helped you step back in your clothes, a smug self-satisfied grin never leaving her face when she noticed the unsteady wobble in your legs.
When you pulled your bra and top back over your breasts, Bada pouted. You gave her a playful shove but she caught your arms instead, bringing them around her neck as her own enveloped your waist.
“Wanna grab dinner?” Her eyes were round and hopeful.
“I would love that.” You replied, and gave her a kiss.
As the both of you tidied up the practice room and gathered your things, Bada listing off food suggestions in the background, your eyes slid to the table at the front of the room.
A familiar device remained perched on the edge, a small green light lighting up proudly.
“Hey, Bada.”
“Hm?”
“Camera’s still recording.”
She stumbled over looking mortified, snatching the device off the table and rewinding haphazardly.
“Oh, fuck.”
#bada lee x reader#swf2#bada lee#bada lee smut#street woman fighter 2#dalla!writes#im sorry in advance bhahaha#idk what i did
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Mars Sign Opinions -Part 1 (18+ Only)
*minors please dni, this is for adults only
*only based on my experiences, just take what resonates
Aries Mars: Feisty, fiery go getters. Mars is definitely in domicile here with how much energy these people tend to have. They’re the type to do what they say they will. Can easily become someone people tend to look up to because they usually take on leadership roles as well. Can have a tendency to constantly be chasing after the next big challenge. They can also be a bit argumentative (they would rather fight you than hold a grudge usually- depending on their moon sign). They tend to talk a big game, which isn’t uncommon for Aries placements, but they’re the most likely to put their money where their mouth is. Or at least put their all into trying to. In my opinion this mars sign is all about the build up in bed. When they’re into you (and acting from their masc energy) they’re all about the chase. The thrill of winning someone over and showing that they can pull whoever they have their eye on. They’ll want to build up to the s*x itself, to be made to work for it. They’ll show off their foreplay skills and will be chasing that high throughout the act, showing off and winning dominance over their partner. Likely to finish *pretty* fast ngl. Usually, if they’re as skilled as they‘ve hyped themselves up to be, they can recover just as quickly and go multiple rounds. If they take the timing of their endurance as a bruise to their ego (somehow) then they’re outta there lol. Still these natives tend to have a great deal of appeal and they tend to know that and show it off. (Side note: also likely to be mad competitive.)
Taurus Mars: Slow and steady to a fault, these natives define patience in their approach and actions. Their patience tends to pay off in the long run. Others may miss the progress they make in achieving their goals until the natives are near the end of their journeys. They tend to really work well when their environment is comfortable and when they’re allowed to have their little luxuries (good food, clean and cozy home, etc). It tends to take a lot to actually upset them, but when they’re really angry they can be really hard to deal with. I’ve actually noticed that (as a tendency with most earth mars imo) they don’t really talk themselves up that much, they tend to try to charm others through a more Venusian approach (raw charisma and like social affableness) and showing rather than telling. They tend to play it cool and go for the long game overall. To court and charm someone with gifts and compliments. In bed, they’re very sensual. They love indulging in all of the physicality of s*x. The most into touching their partner all over. They tend to last a long time. They do tend to have a set of go to moves. Imo, by far the most passionate cuddlers. They’ll hold on all night if they’re sleeping over.
Gemini Mars: Witty and hard to pin down. I don’t have as much personal experience here. Intelligent types that like to show off with their writing/debate skills. They move pretty quickly and impulsively. They tend to work well when they’re given a lot of breathing room to throw stuff at the wall and seeing what sticks. Need to catch up with their own thoughts sometimes, but they’re definitely whip smart types. When they argue with you they tend to debate from an intellectual standpoint-choose your words wisely. Like a lot of air mars (and Venus) signs, it’s hard to tell what makes them stick around. I’d say a combination of wit and a taste for variety would get them to at least go out with you (or at least sleep with you lol, air mars gang). Will try to charm you by knowing more than you, but will find you super charming if you know more than them (an opinion on Gemini placements lol). They will like to switch up positions a lot and to indulge in giving and receiving a lot of oral. They would also go rounds (less from finishing early, and more from how fast they recoup their energy). Oh and they’d love dirty talk as foreplay and in the heat of s*x.
Cancer Mars: Mars is in determent here. The natives are pretty likely to have low energy levels imo. They will get something done once they put their mind to it, but they’ll need a lot of rest/downtime to recharge their energy. I’ve noticed that these natives tend to get very emotionally invested/attached to their projects/goals. I think that’s another reason they tend to need rest a lot, they can get very energetically tied to their own progress, and find themselves drained from their work. They can accomplish a lot, but they tend to have to learn to use this energetic flow differently than exalted/domicile mars signs. Homebodies, tend to work and rest in the same space if they can. Arguing with them can be super intense, they don’t just get angry they feel their anger. That feelings can be overwhelming for all involved. Most likely to cry during a heated argument, and may use this to manipulate whoever they’re arguing with. Because mars is in determent here, I find that if someone is in their masc energy you have to make them feel at ease before they’d approach you. These natives need to feel like a warmth from you before they come onto you (even if they don’t reciprocate that warmth but that’s a post for another day lol). They tend to be shy and deeply afraid of rejection, the more they like you the more this spurns them. I think they can be pretty in their heads about s*x itself (my experience has been with air heavy people with this placement so grain of salt). They tend to go off of their instincts and to be passionate. They may not be as vanilla as they seem, but bc of that fear of rejection they’re usually too shy to ask about exploring anything kinky early on. So the deeper the relationship, the kinkier they can get. They can also be really into b**bs and curves and are pretty likely to have a kink for unprotected s*x and finishing inside their partner (another breeding kink post about cancer placemeeents lol). Also this is the only mars sign that I’ve had tried to explicitly manipulate me into a relationship from a casual connection lol, so that’s something I had to add lmao (it was bold af lol)
Leo Mars: Again not the most experience here. The natives tend to enjoy the positive attention they can gain from reaching their goals. They tend to catch attention when they take action as well. They tend to light up under the spotlight (certain aspects may affect this), and they like to embrace attention from people they’re interested in. They stay fixated and dedicated to pursuing their goals. Tend to be great leaders as well. It can be intense arguing with them as well, they tend to take conflict personally and fight back pretty hard. If you flatter their ego and make them feel special they’re more likely to go all the way with you. They love being praised and adored in bed, they want you to make them feel like they’re the best you’ve ever had. They can work really hard to earn your positive feedback (in fact, sometimes they can be a bit too fiery imo). Praise makes them h*rny and may help them finish harder. They can indulge in role-play and kinks that give them all the attention. If you don’t make them feel like a prize to have in bed, then they may not stick around.
Virgo Mars: Virgo mars are very diligent folks, they work very hard and take their goals seriously. They are very purposeful types as well, they consider all factors and usually aren’t very impulsive. They know how to read all sides of a situation and how analyze it well. They can be kind of standoffish before you get to know them. They like to be of service when they express their affections, so if they’re always making time for you and doing you favors they may like you. They can be some of my least favorite people to argue with (and I hate arguing oml) bc of how critical they get and how they perceive mistakes and right & wrong. As far as s*x goes, they’re usually impressive at least in the beginning. They get labeled as virginal and conservative, but they tend to be into pleasing their lover in order to pleasure themselves. With their mutable nature, they can be as kinky as you’d want them to be. They can be repetitive though, they may fall into a particular routine with intimacy. And with they really give as good as they get, they perform a good mix of passion and like technique. but their almost procedural approach may not be for everyone lol, but I like how they tend see pleasing you as a challenge they want to rise to the occasion for. Also I think they’re the least submissive of all the mutable mars signs tbh, they know how to steer the boat so they won’t let anyone else drive for too long lol.
#astro observations#astroblr#astro notes#astro community#astrology#taurus mars#gemini mars#mars astrology#aries mars#cancer mars#leo mars#virgo mars#love astrology#18+ only#spicy astrology
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Snow Lands On Top (2) || Coriolanus Snow x Reader (+18)
Outline: It’s the first round of the presidential elections and Coriolanus Snow’s results aren’t as good as he hoped. Fortunately, you’re there to give him an outlet for his frustration.
Word count: 3’081
Warnings: pregnancy (TTC), marriage of convenience, very explicit ROUGH smut.
Author’s note: I wrote this as a second part to There Will Come A Ruler, since a few people asked for it. I also wanted to thank you all for all the love I received since I started posting on this page a few days ago, it means the world to me! Still blows my mind that so many people bothered reading what I wrote! ♡
(( Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler )) - (( Part 3 - Insatiable ))
It only was your second time stepping inside the tall skyscraper that hosted your husband’s office - and headquarters. When the elevator doors opened in front of you, you instantly felt trapped, probably because the lobby was more crowded than what you expected. Even if something inside you was screaming for you to turn around and run the other way instead of losing yourself in this den of vipers, you had no choice but to do what duty required of you. You plastered a smile on your face, the one too bright and too joyful to let how miserable you really felt show, and entered the crowd, recognizing some familiar faces and greeting strangers pretending you also knew who they were. If they had been invited today to Coriolanus’s office, it meant they were important to him so you had to consider them as important to you as well.
“Hippity hoppity, there you are, little dove.” A voice sounded behind you. You heard it as clear as day despite the ambiant noise all around you, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. You turned to face who it belonged too, smiling even brighter to conceal the uneasiness you always felt around such an eccentric character.
“Volumnia Gaul, it’s good to see you again.”
“It’s been too long. But I suppose you’ve been quite busy trying to fulfill your duties.” She said, throwing a knowing glance down to your stomach.
“Of course, there’s never a dull moment since I became Coriolanus’ wife.” You smiled, in yet another attempt to conceal your lies. You had been miserable and bored during most of the year you’ve been married, and although you were good at acting by now, the way Dr Gaul stared at you made you feel like she was seeing right through you.
“You should bring her to the front, people need to see you together.” She said, looking up to someone behind you.
You felt him before seeing him, his hand finding the small of your back and his tall frame appearing next to you, your shoulder brushing against his side. You lifted your gaze up to look at your husband, but he didn’t look down at you, focusing his attention on his mentor instead, the only thing letting you know that he had noticed you was his hand pressed against your lower back.
“Of course.” He agreed, with a nod. Dr Gaul’s eyes landed on you once more, something unsettling in the way she suddenly stared at you.
“My offer to examine her still stands, if you want me to run a few tests on her and figure out why you haven’t conceived yet.”
Your blood went cold. Everybody knew how deranged Volumnia Gaul could sometimes be, she was as cruel as she was extravagant and it only seemed to get worse the older she got. She had left her place as the head gamemaker of the Hunger Games to Coriolanus and had retired from her scientific career, but she still ran bizarre experiments in her lab, for her own enjoyment… And you definitely didn’t want to be one of them.
“It won’t be necessary.” Your husband assured her, allowing you to breathe again with relief. “It’s not her fault but mine, I’ve been too busy with the games and my campaign to properly invest time into expanding our family.”
Dr Gaul was about to reply something but was cut off by the sound of the television increasing in the speakers. Coriolanus guided you in front of the large window in his office’s lobby, as everyone seemed to step out of your path.
He was smiling, handsome as ever in his dark red suit and you smiled too, pressing yourself closer to him when you noticed the cameras filming you from across the room. It must have been a perfect picture to showcase to the entire nation, a seemingly loving couple standing in front of the nicest view of the Capitol, surrounded by all their supporters as the reporters on TV were about to announce the winner of this round of the elections.
All eyes were on the television as the results appeared on the screen. You held your breath, waiting for Coriolanus’ percentage to go up but it only did a brief jump and then stopped, largely losing to his opponents. You turned to look at him, waiting for a reaction, and so did everyone else present in the room.
True to himself, he held his head high, standing even straighter as he remained stoic, not a single change of the expression on his face to betray his disappointment. But, even if you couldn’t say that you knew your husband that well, you still knew that he must have been crushed by such a bad result. He had worked so hard for this, put up such a show for the people and so did you, his defeat felt like your own.
It startled you when you felt his fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hip. He was tense, you could feel it , but he was still smiling at the crowd, gracious in defeat. He even spoke a few words, only disturbed for a brief second when he noticed the cameras packing up instead of transmitting his speech, the viewers probably more interested in hearing what the victors of this round had to say rather than listen to your husband.
Coriolanus kept his tight grip on you, as if holding you was the only thing that could keep him from snapping. Some of his supporters came to him to offer him some words of encouragement in replacement of congratulations and he handled each conversation with polite manners.
“At least if you don’t win, we get to keep you as head gamermaker.” One lady said, trying to highlight the good in the situation but Coriolanus only gave her a tight smile in return.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out but maybe it just shows you’re better at working on the Games, they’ve been delightful to watch ever since you took over.”
“At least if you don’t have to keep campaigning you can focus your efforts on the next Hunger Games and come up with a show even better than last year’s !”
The very reason of his bad ranking at the election kept being thrown to his face, people simply preferred him as a game maker, so that they could be sure to be entertained by Coriolanus’ genius ideas to make the show an annual event rather than see him becoming president and be bored in front of their television once a year. The other thing that didn’t work out for him, as you understood, was the fact that he didn’t seem as relatable to the people since he didn’t have a family to care for and protect while his opponent, Festus Creed, already had three kids with his wife Persephone. Maybe they loved each other…
Once people were done offering their sympathy, you felt Coriolanus’ warm hand leave you, your skin a bit sore from the intensity of his previous grip on you. He rushed through the crowd, even ignoring a man who tried to address him and went to his office, shutting the door behind him.
Nobody seemed to notice, nor care, that your husband had felt the need to isolate himself but you did for some reason. Maybe it was because you knew how hard it was to keep smiling and nodding at everyone when deep down you just wanted to scream and run away. In the crowd, you met Dr Gaul’s gaze who had also noticed, watching you with careful attention, as if she was waiting to judge the way you’d react.
So of course, you smiled. At her. At everyone.
You followed the same path as he did, stopping by the man who had attempted to speak to him so that he could speak to you instead and maybe ease off his vexation at being ignored by your husband. As hard as it may be to keep going once the facade of perfection crumpled, it was necessary - now even more than before - to make sure all his allies continued supporting him.
Once he seemed satisfied by the small talk you shared, you kept moving, trying to seem as relaxed and detached as you could, until you had the opportunity to slip inside the office, mostly unnoticed by the crowd still mingling in the lobby.
“Coriolanus, I…” You started but stopped yourself when you noticed all the files scattered on the ground. Your husband was leaning over his desk, his back turned to you and you could see him breathing deeply and rapidly, his shoulders moving up and down with tension.
Suddenly, he threw the remaining of what was on his desk down, with one long motion. More files flew up in the air before landing on the ground, a glass container of pens and pencils broke on the wooden floor and shattered to pieces, flying off in every direction like a tiny bomb explosion. His desk light also tumbled to the floor, making a noise you were sure others had heard too.
You had the instinct to take a step back, your hand finding the knob again in order to retreat far away from his wrath... But, when he buried his face in his hands, he suddenly felt a lot less threatening and a lot more vulnerable, making you decide to stay.
“You might have lost this time but maybe it’ll work out next time.” You told him, softly. You wanted to comfort him, as had everyone else already, but the way he dropped his hands and looked at you with a dark glare made you question your decision.
“Always so positive.”He stated, bitterly, as if he was disgusted by your hopefulness. It wasn’t often that you got to see him without a charming smile on his face and a confident posture, in fact, it was the very first time you had been able to read him so easily, his emotions on display exactly as he was feeling them.
“It’s just one set back, for now they think you are too young, too good at your job, but maybe you’ll be elected next time. Maybe it’ll be in ten years. Maybe in thirty. But you will be president.” He shook his head, a cynical smirk on his lips.
“What makes you so sure ?”
“… Because Snow lands on top.”
His eyes darkened and he launched himself at you, crossing the path between the two of you in rapid strides so that he could capture your lips in a ferocious kiss. It left you breathless for a moment, the way his mouth was covering yours with feverish kisses, his arms around your waist to pull your body against his.
It was your second real kiss. Only the second one since you considered that your marriage had been sealed not with a kiss but with a signature at the bottom of a contract.
You pressed your forehead to his, trying to create some distance between you so that you could catch your breath and attempt to have a coherent thought about what was happening but he didn’t let you, giving you one last consuming kiss before his fingers tangled with your ponytail and he pulled, hard enough to force you to your knees in front of him.
You kneeled, looking up with expectant eyes. It was his way of showing you what he needed. He wanted to be revered, to get rebels to bend the knee in front of him, to be worshiped and relived from the anger and frustration he always locked up inside himself, with no way of letting them out.
You reached for his pants, swiftly undoing them with your eyes never leaving his pale blue ones, staring at you with a silent wrath still setting his gaze ablaze. He tugged on your hair again, forcing your chin up so that he could touch your face with his other hand, forcing a thumb passed your lips. He attentively watched you as you opened up your mouth to take it in, gently sucking before releasing it with a soft bite.
You saw him smile at your compliance, even though it was ended by a bold gesture. You were the perfect mix of obedient and fiery to make him lose his mind, and you both knew it.
He reached down to the pants you had opened for him, pulling his already hard erection. You resisted the urge to look at it, remembering how big it had felt in your hand and inside you, worried that his size might change your mind about giving him what he wanted. Instead, you kept your eyes fixed to his as you opened your mouth wide, ready to welcoming him there.
His tip glided on your tongue, his length not even entirely filling your mouth when you felt it hit the back of your throat. He shuddered with pleasure, a soft curse leaving his lips, followed by the sound of your name.
You felt a jolt of electricity in your body, a strange pride warming you up at the thought of pleasing him. You ran your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness that was already dripping from him in anticipation of his release. He cursed again and his hand moved to the back of your head, holding you firmly in place as he began thrusting back and forth.
You tried to relax your jaw and breathe through your nose as his hard length slid on your tongue, but when his movements increased in speed and in strength, you felt him reaching deeper down your throat and you couldn’t help but gag, tears welling in your eyes in consequence. But, even though he was still very carefully looking at you, watching the way he was fucking your mouth without mercy, he didn’t stop or slow down, only attempting to have an even firmer grip on you.
Another curse word fell from his lips, betraying how close he was to finding relief but, instead of shooting his load on your tongue as you were expecting him to, he rapidly pulled himself out of your mouth, heavily panting in front of you.
You used this opportunity to catch your own breath and wipe the mascara stains under your eyes, feeling the soreness of your lips caused by the unforgiving friction he had created.
“Get up.” He demanded, which made you realize he had let go of your hair. You obeyed without hesitation, even taking a step closer to be in his reach again. He immediately took advantage of the proximity, roughly pulling your dress up above your hips and bringing his hand to your center, pulling your panties aside so that he could run a finger across your soaked folds. A satisfied grin appeared on his face, as he removed his hand and brought his finger to his lips, tasting you with a hungry gaze.
You felt your whole body buzzing with excitement, your eyes following the path of his tongue as he licked his lips, seemingly enjoying what he had just tasted. You were so ready for him, you would have begged if he asked you but he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t ask for anything, he just took whatever he wanted, the way he wanted… And at this very moment, you couldn’t have been more okay with it.
His hands came to your bare hips and flipped you over so that your back was turned to him. Then, he pushed on your lower back, silently instructing you to bend over for him, which you did.
“Hold on tight.” He advised, his voice low with lust. You looked for something to do so but only found a tall bookshelf in front of you. You still gripped the sides of it, knowing it wouldn’t help you that much but you could already feel him pulling your panties to the side again.
Without a warning, he shoved himself inside you and you welcomed him, your wetness allowing him to slide all the way in with his first thrust. You bite your lip to avoid letting out a moan, very aware of the noise and chatter still coming from right behind his office door.
He completely pulled out before slamming inside you again, burying himself as deep as he could and you loudly gasped. He adjusted your position with a hand on each of your hips, gripping you so hard it was almost painful but you understood why once he repeated his action, thrusting so hard you would have lost your balance if he wasn’t helping stabilize you.
“Come on, let me hear the lovely sounds you can make.” He requested, mercilessly repeating the same movement.
“I can’t… They’ll all hear us…” You panted, a strangled moan catching in your throat when he hit deep, exactly where you needed him to.
“Good, I want them to know I’m fucking my wife.” He breathed, clearly enjoying himself too. “Show them you are mine.”
You felt dizzy at his words. Or maybe it was from the intense pleasure building up at your core. A few more of his rough thrusts and you came undone, loudly expressing your bliss as he released himself deep inside you. You both stayed connected for a moment to catch your breath until he pulled out, adjusting your panties and pulling your dress back down before taking care of putting his spent erection away.
You turned around to face him, meeting his gaze and noticing how his eyes had softened, like they had been drained of all the emotions he kept hidden behind them at all times, a clean slate to endure the rest of the evening.
To your surprise, he leaned over to kiss you. Not with hunger this time but with a tenderness you didn’t expect, like he was grateful you had been there for him.
“Was I too rough with you ?” He asked you, in a whisper, almost as if he was ashamed to say it out loud.
“Yes.” You nodded, appreciating the concern that immediately appeared on his face but you reassured him with a smile. “And I absolutely loved it.”
He smiled back, looking at you like he was seeing you in a new light. You weren’t strangers anymore and, for the first time, you were both starting to think that your marriage wasn’t such a fatality after all.
Previously in this series:
Next in this series:
#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#tbosas smut#tbosas#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus smut#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus fanfiction#smutty fanfiction#smut#coryo snow#corio snow#coriolanus imagine#spicy fanfic
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The slashers w an insecure s/o
Includes: Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt
slowly getting through this major writers block. my writing might be dog shit for a few posts but I'm forcing myself to work through it 🩷
Reader is female
Warnings: descriptions of sex (mostly bo section), praise, low self-esteem.
Masterlist || Navigation || ao3
Vincent Sinclair
Vincent doesn't understand it.
The moment he laid eyes on you he was in awe, knowing immediately he needed you alive. There wasn't enough wax in the world to sculpt you the ways he desired.
So to see your hesitance at removing your clothing, he was scared you had changed your mind about him — the thought of you being insecure hadn't crossed his mind until you admitted it.
Your cheeks are hot from embarrassment, apologies slipping off your tongue as you dropped your head against his chest. "I'm sorry Vin, I've never liked my body."
He's quick to silently reassure you that he loves all of you, even the parts he hasn't seen with soft hands roaming your delicate body; finger tips gliding over your curves, stopping to lift your face to his – it's a promise.
Vincent will worship the very ground you walk on, making it his goal to show you your beauty through his gentle touches and precise sculptures. You will fill his work space.
Bo Sinclair
"What'dya mean you don't like your body? You've got the best piece of ass I've seen in my life!" Bo exclaims, genuinely confused at your insecurities.
There is not a chance he'll fully understand, regardless of his own insecurities. Bo looks at you and sees the perfect woman — so what if you have some imperfections? He might as well be blind because he can't see them.
He is very gentle with you though, thoroughly fucking the insecurities away and praising you every chance he gets.
"Look how beautiful you are, cumming all over my cock," Bo praises, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror he's placed across the room. "So perfect."
Would definitely make you point out features you like on yourself before you can cum. Just seems like that kind of guy.
Thomas Hewitt
Thomas would be so heartbroken to hear you say you don't like your appearance. He'd think it's his fault for not appreciating you enough.
The first time you say it, you're both a nervous wreck.
"It's not you, Tommy. I just.. I've never liked my appearance," you admit, eyes downcast while your hand holds his at the hem of your shirt.
He whines, nuzzling his face in your neck. It's not fair that you feel this way he thinks, you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen.
But he understands, having his own insecurities; so the two of you make a deal to leave the lights off and keep your shirts on until you are more comfortable — which doesn't take long with the way he worships your body.
With Thomas your insecurities are a thing of the past.
#x reader#fluff#angst#oneshot#slashers#thomas hewitt#bo Sinclair#vincent Sinclair#slasher x reader#slasher headcanons#slasher fandom#slasher#thomas hewitt headcanon#thomas hewitt x reader#thomas hewitt x you#texas chainsaw massacre#horror#bo sinclair headcanons#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair#house of wax#vincent sinclair headcanons#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair#vincent sinclair oneshot#headcanons#drabble#slasher fanfiction#slasher fluff#slasher x you
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I Saw Wish
And it was the worst animated Disney movie I’ve ever seen. I have to watch it again before I can get into the nitty gritty details. But I don’t need details to sum it up, because my dad actually said it perfectly as we left the theater:
“It was like someone who didn’t really understand Disney movies tried to make a Disney movie.”
Both the form (the technical arts of filmmaking) and the content (the morals, values, and themes of the movie) were totally horrible.
I don’t know who’s fault it was. Jeremy Spears was in the storyboard room and Mark Henn and Eric Goldberg did some 2D animation. But they must have gotten outvoted, or they must not care anymore.
Because holy cow. Here’s some stuff that’s just off the top of my head.
SPOILERS. Not that it matters, because nothing interesting happens in this movie.
The writing? Terrible. Ninety percent of it feels like the characters are filling time with quirky one-liners that are trying too hard to be appealing, then failing, then taking you out of the movie. The jokes aren’t funny. The characters just respond to each other in conversation to check a one-liner box. The other twenty percent is whole conversations repeating tell-don’t-show exposition that has already been covered, usually twice, in previous scenes. Like if in Tangled, every scene had included some variation of Rapunzel saying to friends and enemies alike, “I have to see the floating lights so I’m sneaking to the castle with this thief who wants a mysterious tiara I hid from him. Don’t tell my mother, she’s a bit overprotective!” Over. And over. And over.
The character motivations are way too broad. Asha? Her dream is just “that everybody around me gets to be happy.” That’s it, in a nutshell. No deeper exploration of that. Nobody asks, “why do you care so much?” Nobody tries to convince her she should look out for herself, and then she proves she was right all along. The King? We are told (not shown) that he doesn’t want anyone else’s dreams to be “destroyed.” But he in no believable way expresses that that motivation is still what’s driving him during the movie—what’s driving him is just a plain old lust for power, no nuance.
By the way, the whole premise of the movie? Undercooked. Half-baked concepts strung together with no definitive meaning. Therefore, it’s not believable. Example: The characters act like the wishes are beautiful—well, actually, no, this movie doesn’t know how to show, so there’s not a lot of meaningful acting—the characters just tell us that wishes are “the most beautiful part of someone,” and that’s why it’s worth going through this adventure to give their wishes back to them. But there’s no proof of that in the movie. In fact, it directly kicks it’s own legs out from under that idea, because it has every character who gives up their wish forget that part of themselves. Asha’s grandfather has forgotten his wish, but that doesn’t make him any less “beautiful.” She, and everyone, still treats him like he’s this wonderful old man who deserves the world, who everyone loves…but why is he so appealing? If he “gave up the most beautiful part of him?” The only character who is changed by their lack-of-wish is the Sleepy-analogue character…who is just sleepy, which is described as “boring.” But nobody else who’s given up their wish in the whole kingdom acts like that. It’s just him. Also, the King acts like it’s so important to protect the wishes from destruction. But what does destroying a wish look like? That actually happens to Asha’s mom. Her wish-bubble is broken, literally, and she just says she feels grief. But like. Why? She never remembered it in the first place; it had been missing from her life for years. Also, what the heck is a wish?! It seems to range from broad concepts like “inspire people” to “fly.” Just “fly,” like a bird. The desire to levitate off the ground is the most important, beautiful essence of one background character. Like, what?! But no character ever has the why behind their wish to make us care.
I could go on and on about that point. Like, think about Disney movies that wrote the book on how to make movies about characters with wishes. If Ariel were in Wish, her bubble would look like “dancing and learning and exploring on the Surface with someone who understands her.” But we believe that that is her real, genuine wish, and that it matters to her, because we are shown why being understood is so important to her. Because it’s missing from her life. There’s a scene where she explores a boat alone, and even her best friend doesn’t get excited about it with her. Her dad won’t listen to her point of view. Her siblings don’t ask her about her life even when they think she’s in love. She wants what she wants because of pieces of her life that we are shown.
We are never shown why Asha’s grandfather is obsessed with inspiring people, so we have no reason to believe it, or care whether he gets it or not. We can’t feel disappointed when his wish is said to “never come true,” like we did when Quasimodo was abused by the people he wished to join. We can’t feel elated when he finally “gets” his wish, like we did when Simba smiles on Pride Rock remembering the same way he used to as a cub and claims the crown with a roar. We don’t have anything to hang on to, nothing to relate to, nothing to grasp and feel with the characters. So we don’t feel, because they didn’t put the work in to help us feel. They just say, “the mom’s feeling grief. Feel grief.” And expect us to do the work ourselves. I have to stop harping on this point and move on.
But The main point of the movie is very broad because of that lazy premise, and it’s barely reinforced by any kind of appealing storytelling. If I had to guess, the point would be “Keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” But the story they told to communicate that meaning was so unimpactful. Asha doesn’t have a dream of her own that’s such hard work to accomplish! (Neither does her grandfather; his wish is “to inspire people.” And at the end, we’re supposed to see him strumming a guitar and believe it’s inspiring? We were never shown how he worked hard to learn how to play the instrument. Or that he carved it with his own hands, or anything like that. So there’s no meaningful demonstration of working hard for it or achieving your wish even if it’s far out of reach.) And nobody except the king is trying to take wishes away from anyone, and he just does it literally, after they voluntarily give them to him, so there’s not even any impactful demonstration of “don’t let anyone tell you your wishes are dumb or unachievable, or stop you from reaching them.” Even when he takes them away, it’s just because they…could, someday, be used to threaten his kingdom in a vague, really unlikely way. There are so many things you could do with “keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” For instance; you could say the main character has always been afraid to dream (wish for more), because maybe when she was a kid something wonderful almost happened but ended in tragedy, so she keeps her head down and doesn’t want much because if you don’t dream you’ll never be disappointed. She takes no risks, and has to learn that sometimes trying and failing is worth more than slogging through life all self-protective. I mean, the pieces were right there. She has this line about her dad, and how she wished he would get better but then he died. She has lines about how nobody should have to live with grief?? Then that’s never addressed again! It’s just a throwaway emotion-moment with no buildup or follow-through to tie it to and support that main theme.
The compositions of too many shots were so terrible. Characters got cut off in weird places. One shot has Asha dead center, with her grandfather on the left side of the table and her mother on the right, having a family dinner with a super exposition-heavy conversation that is meant to be emotionally charged. But despite everything else being perfectly centered, half of her mother’s body is chopped off. The movie’s shot like someone’s mom who doesn’t understand technology tried to take a video with her phone.
The charm of the art “style” wears off basically immediately. I know what they were going for. I see the sketch lines and watercolor textures. This is maybe the first time Disney ever failed to accomplish a visual “look” that turned out good. Everything looks dull. Muted. De-saturated. Slightly out of focus, but not in a cool Spider-Verse way. The sets or backgrounds are lazy; at no point does the scenery look complete; big, empty, boring spaces that do not create any kind of “stage” for impactful moments. The rendering looks unfinished. When Asha’s hair moves during her belting of the “I Make This Wish” song, it’s bad. It’s unnatural. It flops in a way that doesn’t make sense for the weight of her hair. The most impactful visual moments come from the villain, and they’re moments when he looks way too unhinged for the kind of line he’s saying.
There is no interesting character development. Asha goes from believing everyone is basically good and their wishes deserve the chance to come true , to….that, again. That would be fine, she could be a static character, if she proved contrast-characters wrong, in a believable way. But she never does. Because no other characters argue with her except the King. And it goes no deeper than “everyone’s wishes are basically good and they deserve the chance to make them true” vs. “nuh-uh, because I get to decide what makes them deserving.” The King doesn’t have any kind of interesting development, either. They don’t expand on his tragic backstory—it consists of one drawing of him near a broken boat, and a few images of the corner burned off of his family taoestry. They never say “King Magnifico wished for _____ and it was taken away!” They literally never tell you what his wish or dreams were, or what motivated him to create the whole kingdom that the movie’s premise sits on. So there’s no convincing sense of progression, how he got this way, why he’ll keep going “so far.”
The pacing is weird. It undercuts every moment that could have any kind of emotion behind it. One minute Valentino is suavely bouncing around, then he’s given a two-second beat to blubber with badly-animated tears that he’ll miss Star—then he instantly gets to have another funny one-liner so we forget he might’ve been sad a second ago. We’re clearly supposed to believe that the King and his wife are devoted to each other, and his turning evil was such a big betrayal, but there’s no time and no impactful evidence for us to believe either of those things. And even if we did, the moment he’s defeated and trapped in a mirror, and begs to be let free, the Queen kind of shrugs it off, makes a forgettable one-liner, and tells them to throw him in the dungeon. And he doesn’t look remorseful. And we don’t even get to assume he’s embarrassed or emotionally devastated that he’s come to this—because the last thing he says is “nooo, the dungeon is so smellyyy!” Like this is a half-baked LEGO short that can’t get emotionally deeper than what an actual 3 year-old’s parents might be okay with.
And that’s the worst offense: The movie is not genuine. It works hard for nothing, and it has no vulnerability. It just uses old Disney standbys to pretend to be vulnerable. Have the music swell and the characters gasp and the songs drip emotion when characters are meant to be saying or doing something emotional.
But truthfully, think of all the Disney movies you’ve ever seen with the hardest emotional moments. The sheer joy of Genie when he realizes he’s free. The anguish when Elsa thinks Anna’s been frozen forever, or when Anna thinks she’s dead. The trauma when Simba loses Mufasa. The longing and dreaming of Ariel when she reaches up out of her grotto. The sense of foreboding when Mother Gothel says “fine, now I’m the bad guy” or the heartbreak in Rapunzel’s eyes when she thinks Flynn has abandoned her, or the shame on Aladdin’s face when Jafar reveals he’s a street-rat, or the horror of cruelty when the stepsisters rip up Cinderella’s dress, or Kala’s tears when Tarzan leaves her in the treehouse, or Sarabi’s tears when Simba comes back, or Mulan’s father tossing aside the sword and token of the Emperor to embrace Mulan, or heck, even just Lilo pushing Stitch in the woods and telling him “get out of here.” This movie has no moments like that. It has moments you can tell that the filmmakers wanted to hit like that—but they don’t.
Because no work is put into building them up. You know how much Simba loves Mufasa, because you’ve been watching their chemistry more than any other character all the way up till he dies. You know how much Mulan wants to please her family because she spends all of Act I desperately attempting to do that. You know Quasimodo believes the world below is beautiful and wants them to accept him because he has interesting things like—talking to gargoyles, convincing us that he’s lonely; building a scale model of the townspeople, convincing us that he sees them in a beautiful way and wishes he were beautiful in more ways than one like them, too.
Right down to the facial expressions, none of them are as anguished, happy, sad, excited, silly, in any convincing way like all of Disney’s other movies. Asha’s “low moment” when she’s afraid her “wish” hurt everyone else (still vague on what that wish ever was) lasts two seconds, she’s not crying, she’s barely sitting with slumped shoulders, and her family barely spend two seconds comforting her. They basically just say, “aw, no, it’s not y fault, it’s the king’s.” And she’s like, “yeah okay” and that’s that. It’s like the animators we’re afraid to animate really intimate emotions on the characters’ faces. The voice actors, too.
And the whole movie is peppered with Easter eggs to past Disney movies. But all that does, if you really know Disney beyond the visuals, is make you think of how hollow this movie is in comparison. How much you wish you were watching Cinderella or The Little Mermaid or something with depth and vulnerability instead of Wish.
#I’ll talk more in an organized fashion later#wish#disney’s wish#wish Disney#wish 2023#critique#spoilers
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Guard Dog (König x afab reader)
Tags: bodyguard! König x afab!reader, daughter of sus business man, age gap, cursing, size difference, mentions of violence, cursing, mentions of arranged marriage, primal play kink, size difference kink, the mask stays on, fingering, oral, cheating (kind of) praise, but also degradation, König calls reader maus (cliche i know but i love it so shh)
Word Count: 10648 (she's very long)
Calling yourself was a paranoid mess was an extreme understatement, knees tucked under your chin as you sat by the windowsill in your room. At first you were even hesitant to open the blinds, not wanting any light to come through. It was a way to hide, you didn’t want to see anyone or speak to anyone, all you felt was shame. It was humiliating, being attacked the way you were and not being able to do anything about it until someone showed up to help. You hated it.
Every little noise made you flinch, every knock on your bedroom door by the maid bringing you your meals or every time you heard the front door open. It made you hug yourself tighter, pull your blankets around you tighter and want to hide yourself further. It didn’t even happen because of something you did, it was all because of the name you were born with and the blood pumping through your veins.
Toying with a few loose threads on your blanket, you found yourself flinching at the sounds of a car door slamming outside and even harder at the doorbell. It had been like this all morning, interview after interview and you were going insane. It scared you that your father thought something would happen again and that you needed a bodyguard for that very reason. It scared you to hear the heavy boots inside the house, together with murmuring heading to the direction of your father’s study.
König never in a million years thought that he would have to start taking jobs like this. Retired from the military and simply tired. The retirement was enough to live off, at least at first, but the man was not only damn near broke, he was bored. A job like this, protecting some 20 something year old rich girl, it was easy money.
That was what he thought when he heard about the job, sitting here in her father’s office, his mask sitting over his face as he listened. “Since the attack, she hasn’t left her room. She’s scared and while I know it’s my fault, she still has her duty as my daughter. There are events she’s needed for and soon I’ll be finding her a husband.” Her father seemed level-headed enough. König never took a job without research and he knew that her father did morally grey work. That didn’t bother him, it’s not like he didn’t have to make morally grey choices of his own while in the service. This was definitely going to be a simple job.
“Looking at your qualifications, I have no doubt you’ll be the safest option for my daughter. You have the job… only I do have a question. Do you always wear the mask?” König knew this question was coming, while he retired his old sniper hood for a simple ski mask style mask, he had anticipated this. “It’s for her safety. My past created enemies but because I’ve always worn a mask, my identity was concealed then and it should be concealed now.” He explained, pausing before looking his new boss in the eyes. “She’s in safe hands.”
“Like I said before, she hasn’t left her room since it happened.” Your father led him up the stairs, explaining once more. “I’m hoping you can help get her out and about again. Provide a safe feeling.” The irony wasn’t lost on him with the last part. He was a six foot ten, Austrian, ex-military man wearing a ski mask, he was intimidating and he knew it. But you were a young lady and that required a gentler hand, one he suddenly wasn’t so sure he had. He watched your father knock on the door, gently before opening it.
“I have someone for you to meet. This is König, he will be your new body guard.” Your father stepped out of the way, allowing him to peer into your dark room. It was decorated simply with a few feminine touches of in the décor, it made him realize he’d never stood in a room like this before. Looking around further, he found you curled up on the windowsill, a small ball in a blanket like a cat. You looked absolutely terrified, staring at him with big eyes and balled fists in your blankets. Small scratches littered your face and a large band aid sat on the side of your forehead, this was undoubtedly why you were so terrified. It seemed the attack had left physical marks as well as mental ones. König felt an overwhelming sense of anger, seeing you this scared. Wondering how people could take someone so seemingly vulnerable and hurt them, no matter their family ties.
“I’ll leave you to get acquainted.” Your father left the room, feeling the tension of fear. He never did quite understand how to handle your emotions or take care of you in any situation. If giving you a bodyguard was his way of trying, you had to accept it. You just didn’t think it would be this massive of a man, wearing a mask.
You watched him walk over to you, the heavy footsteps you heard on the stairs now replaced with light ones. He was so massive, the gentleness in his steps was impressive but his sudden movement to kneel made you flinch nonetheless. You tucked your knees further under your chin, you hated feeling this way but you couldn’t help it. You were an adult woman, you knew that. But the sheer size of this man left you feeling like a small mouse and it had you acting like one.
“I know I can be intimidating.” He had an accent when he spoke, looking at you with baby blue eyes. They were his only feature peaking through the mask and looking into them made a feeling of ease overcome your body. “But you don’t need to jump.” He laughed lightly, wanting to make you feel comfortable. “Your father says you haven’t left your room in days, why’s that?” He asked, his voice gentle as he took in your features. “I- I’m embarrassed.” You admitted, telling someone your true feelings after days. If he was going to protect you, he needed to know. “You feel like they took something from you, right?” He asked further, eyes growing even more sympathetic. You felt broken and it was obvious to him, he was taught to read people after all. He didn’t like seeing someone who hadn’t done anything wrong feel so humiliated.
“I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop it, I needed to wait for help.” You thought back to it all, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill. “Shhh, maus. I’ll help you. I won’t just protect you. I’ll make sure you can help yourself, protect yourself. I’ll teach you.” He said, the words leaving his lips before he even knew he meant them. He wanted it to be an easy job and teaching you how to protect yourself should be easy enough. He had trained plenty of soldiers back in the day.
“You’ll teach me?” You asked, looking at him with a cocked brow. You suddenly didn’t look so sad anymore and it made him chuckle. His large hand extending to your face and softly wiping your tears away. “Yes, Maus. I’ll teach you.” He confirmed and you watched smile lines form by his eyes. “Now it’s time to get back on your feet, Maus. From what I’ve heard you’ve wallowed enough.” He stood back up to his full height, watching your big eyes trail up his body as he did so.
He had done research about your father, what he did for a living, the way he conducted his business and the basic knowledge about his family. Yes it included some pictures of you, but they were mainly old. He hadn’t seen just what you looked like until today and it wasn’t what he anticipated. You were stunning, a beautiful young woman that he was certain would be fought over when the time came to get married. König couldn’t lie, the way you looked up at him made his him blush and he found himself even more grateful for his mask.
The mysterious man had been on your mind the entirety of your shower the following day. How someone new in your life could put your mind at ease so much, simply by speaking to you without even showing his face, confused you. It made you wonder just how old he was, what his life experience was … what he looked like underneath the mask. His eyes were stunning, that much you knew but what about the rest?
The thoughts continued to linger as you walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. The house was quiet, as it often was. Your father never quite liked to stay in one place too long, so it was no surprise to find the silence. Truthfully, you were grateful for it. A part of you resented your father for the uncomfortable position he had put you in, you didn’t want to see him or speak to him.
“Goodmorning, Maus.” König’s gruff voice shocked you as you tried to pour a cup of coffee, nearly spilling the liquid over the counter and yourself. “Goodmorning, König.” You said in return, turning to look at him. He was leaning against the cooking island, arms crossed over his chest and that mask covering his face. He wore a fitted, black long sleeve shirt tucked into dark green cargo pants and you found your cheeks heating up. You hadn’t even seen his face, yet the sheer size of the man and his physique flustered you to no end.
“Is Maus going to be my nickname from now on?” You asked, grabbing your mug and taking a sip of coffee. You hoped your question would cut the awkward tension in the air, wanting to know more about this man. He was unconventional, not anything you expected from a bodyguard. You expected someone quiet in the corner of a room, wearing a suit and not making himself known until necessary. König seemed to be the exact opposite, making himself known, taking up space in the room.
“It’s fitting, no? Compared to me you’re a little maus.” You could tell he was smiling, his eyes crinkling up again like the night before. He wasn’t wrong, compared to him that was exactly what you were. “I suppose.” You agreed, sighing slightly and looking to the floor. You looked up again, finding his eyes scanning your body language and suddenly you felt exposed. Wearing a comfy sweater and shorts wasn’t exactly the most flattering thing and feeling him stare at you the way he was, it made you self conscious.
“You seem to have something bothering you.” He stated, watching the way you wrapped your arms around your torso to hide yourself. “Not bothering me necessarily.” You admitted, pausing to pull yourself to sit on the counter. “I have questions.” You said, hoping he would understand your curiosity. “That was to be expected, our talk yesterday was brief. Fire away.” He nodded and you let out a sigh of relief. “Where are you from, I can’t quite place the accent?” You asked, watching his chest rumble with laughter. “I’m from Austria. Was that what was plaguing your mind? You truly are fascinating, maus.” He remarked and you smiled, something you hadn’t quite done for days. “It was one of the things. How old are you?” You continued, just wanting some answers. “I’m almost 40.” He said, tone a little more somber at the question. His age seemed to be something he slightly griped with, but that was too personal to ask about.
“What did you do before this?” You didn’t realise but you were leaning forward, getting drawn in by his responses. He took a few steps closer, now leaning directly across from you against the island. “I was in the military. I was colonel. Is that all?” He was teasing you now, you could tell. However the military made sense to you, he didn’t have the typical body guard approach based off what you saw from your father’s. “One more question.” You said, watching him push off the island and come closer to you. You swallowed thickly, seeing him so up close and so much bigger than you. He looked down at you on the counter, blinking at you in anticipation.
“Will you ever take off the mask?” You asked, itching to see his face. Secretly you hoped he would take it off right there, your hand absentmindedly travelling upwards to touch the fabric of the mask. König’s hand quickly, but softly wrapped around your wrist to stop the action. “The mask, Kleine maus, stays on. Always.”
From your knowledge about bodyguards, they were supposed to be silent protectors. He was the exact opposite, he liked to talk but kept his past under wraps. König liked to ask you questions, get to know you more. He knew a lot about you based on your file, but that was official information. The more personal things made it easier for him to protect you, that and he was genuinely curious about you.
“Have you done this job before?” You asked, tugging on the waist band of your cocktail dress. It was a modest little black dress, classy and pretty, perfect for showing you off to your father’s colleagues. While you hated the thought, it was your daughterly duty so you squeezed yourself into the dress picked out for you. Only it was incredibly tight around your waist, making breathing a little uncomfortable.
“Yes, is it your first time in a dress this tight?” His accent especially gruff. It seemed König was just as uncomfortable as you, tugging on the collar of his suit. His regular shirt and cargo’s would have made him stand out more than he already would due to his size alone, he had to match the occasion with made you happy because at least you weren’t uncomfortable alone. He looked handsome in it, dress pants tight around his muscular thighs and shirt over his muscular chest. The ski mask was of course on, but it added to the effect. You found yourself blushing looking at him, not being able to help your mind wandering.
“No, it’s just been a while.” Your voice shook slightly, waiting for the elevator to make it to the top floor. You were anxious for the evening, even though it wasn’t anything new to you. König could sense it as he stood in front of you, essentially body blocking you from the door when it would open. “It’ll be alright, Maus. I’ll be there, watching.” He reassured, glancing towards you. He liked seeing you all done up but it was incredibly obvious that you were uncomfortable. “If you feel off, or someone is making you feel uncomfortable just come to me.” He added on, hand reaching to give your own a reassuring touch. “Okay.” You responded, squeezing his hand in return as the elevator opened.
König walked out of the elevator first, scanning the room for anything that resembled a threat before allowing you to leave. “Like I said, I’ll be watching from that corner over there.” He said, pointing to the corner before turning to you again. “Go on in and try to relax.” He said and you nodded, walking into the venue. “Oh, Maus.” He called after you and watched you turn around with a raised brow. “You look beautiful.” You smiled and looked away, trying to hide how warm your cheeks were and how flustered he made you.
You went through the evening, glancing to the corner and making sure he was still there. Not because you were uncomfortable or scared, but because the way he was watching everything going on was driving you insane. His intense blue eyes, not calm or gentle the way he looked at you, but intense and dark. He looked like he would murder anything that crossed him or you wrong and it made your attention span weak.
“It seems you aren’t listening to me.” The son of one your father’s friends said, taking note of how you were staring off into the distance. König was substantially more interesting than this man’s babbling about investments and what he’s doing with the money he earned. “I’m sorry, I’m very tired.” You smiled weakly, watching the man’s expression remain unphased. He didn’t care, he wanted you to listen, it was what he thought he was owed. Especially since your father mentioned you were on the market, if you even wanted him to consider you as wife (you didn’t) you should at least give him the time of day.
“If you want any of the men in this room to be interested, I would try a little harder.” He remarked snidely and you felt your stomach flip with fear. Something about the tone in his voice made you very uneasy. “Excuse me, I think I should g-“ You started, beginning to walk away only for his hand to find your arm. He squeezed it harshly, not quite hurting you but sending instant memories of your attack flooding back.
König saw it all, rage fueling him as he made his way over while trying his best not to cause a scene. Though when he got close enough, he felt a sense of pride through his body as he heard you speak up for yourself. “I wouldn’t do that, now or ever again. I have my guard dog with me.” Your voice might have shook as you gestured towards König, but that was alright. It was a start.
The smaller man’s eyes followed your hand, still gripping your arm as he looked at König. König was practically steaming out the nose like a bull, eyes angry and fists clenched, ready to take the situation further at a moments notice. It took the man 0.2 seconds to decide that it was a fight he wasn’t going to win and he let your arm go. “Not worth it.” He grumbled and walked off, König staring him down as he did.
Your guard was about to walk after him, but you placed a hand on his arm. He turned to you, looking at you with that soft expression that seemed to be reserved for you. “Master says heel?” He asked jokingly, softening his tone as he spoke to make you feel more at ease. However he could see your legs shaking and the way your breathing was slowly turning rapid. Not wanting to cause more of a scene, he quickly walked to your father and gestured to you. “I think it’s wise I bring the young miss home.” In reality, he should have waited for your father to respond if that was okay especially considering he was the one paying his checks. He didn’t wait though, turning through the crowd of people to grab your hand and tug you towards the elevator.
You were absolutely frozen, aside from your legs moving towards the elevator, you were numb. Staring in front of you and not registering anything that was happening, you wanted to go home, you wanted to breathe, you wanted to get out of that god forsaken dress. Before you knew it you were in the elevator, watching the doors shut. You hadn’t entirely realized it but your hand was gripping the fabric of König’s dress shirt at the forearm, bawling it up in your fist as you tried to make sense of what happened.
“Maus, look at me.” His gruff voice rumbled but you couldn’t turn your head. “Maus.” He said again, placing a hand on your shoulder. König had seen all form of panic, the loud screamers and the quiet sufferers, this wasn’t anything new to him. What was new was the worry in his mind seeing you like this. “Maus.” He raised his voice a little, not knowing how to deal with his emotions and yours. He did feel bad seeing you whip your head around, looking at him with a trembling lip.
“You’re a good guard dog.” You choked out, forcing yourself to smile now that you were out of the situation. “That’s good to hear.” He said, looking you over to make sure the fucker hadn’t left bruises with his grip on you. “You also did good.” He said, rubbing over the slightly red skin verifying that it wouldn’t leave a mark the next day. “No I didn’t. I froze.” You shook your head and he started shushing you before you even finished. “No, you stood up for yourself and then called me. You did everything you were supposed to do.” He reassured but you still felt a weight on your chest, you wanted to be able to do more.
The moment you stepped through the threshold of your house, your hands started fiddling for the zipper of your dress. You needed it off, you needed to breathe and while your panic attack had subsided, the pressure of your dress tight around your ribs was going to send you into another one. “What’s wrong?” König asked, watching you in the foyer trying to contort yourself. “Unzip my dress before I pass out.” You said bluntly, turning to look at him with the most serious expression he had ever seen. “What?!” He asked, incredibly happy that his face was covered with a mask. “My dress is so tight, I’m going to pass out if you don’t help me.” You repeated, enunciating every word to make sure he understood.
You turned around, showing him your back and moving your hair out of the way so he could reach the zipper. “Maus, should I be the one to-“ “No one else is here and I can’t reach. At this point I don’t care if you rip it.” You remarked and König found himself even more flustered than before. The image in his head of him ripping the dress off of you making him shake his head. His hand reached out, finding the small and fragile zipper. It would have been so easy to rip, your words really staying in his mind. You were attractive, there was no doubt and the effect you had on his emotions didn’t go unnoticed. Now you were telling him to undress you, albeit not in the most romantic way, he had to hold himself back.
The zipper slid down, showing more and more of your skin, his fingers gently grazing your spine as the zipper went down. Goosebumps coated your body at the touches but what was more important was the deep breath you let out at the relief. You held the dress up to your body once he was done, turning around and looking up at him. Your expression was not longer stressed, or panicked, doe eyes looking up at him with relief. “Thank you.” You said and he nodded his head. “No problem.” He grumbled and you stayed there, looking at him for a moment before realizing that you were holding your dress up. “I’m going to go change.” You said and scrambled off quickly, suddenly feeling exposed and embarrassed. “You do that.” He agreed and started loosening his tie, undoing the top buttons of his blouse. König was also suddenly having a hard time breathing.
“Hands up, protect your face.” König’s voice was raised and you instinctively listened. You were sweating like crazy, panting like a dog on a hot summer’s day while he was fine. Hardly broken a sweat and eyes looking at you with an amused expression. “That’s better.” He commented trying to hold back a laugh.
“This isn’t funny.” You whined, hands falling to your sides after moving your hair from your face. “I can’t help it, Maus. I’ve never seen anyone less intimidating.” His words were so degrading and if anyone else had said them, you would have been angry. “I’m trying my best.” You whined again and he mussed your hair, to tease you. “I know.” He added on and you could see his mask shift, something you had learned to be a smile.
Since that night, you had expressed you wanted to be able defend yourself. Not just call for your guard dog to do so. Mentioning that König wouldn’t be there forever to do so, the words stinging a little when he heard them. He cold understand though and he admired you for it. So he started training you with the most basic self defence and to put it nicely, you sucked at it. But you were trying and that was what’s important, having the knowledge was half the battle.
Today was no different from the last 2 training days, König dawning a black compression shirt and his khaki cargo pants. You couldn’t even lie, you were checking him out. The years of military service being so evident on him and his body. It was partially the reason you sucked at fighting so much, you were distracted. So distracted, one of your attacks led to you being pinned to the ground. König’s body, warm and big pressing you against the ground with his hands pinning yours down. His face was only inches from yours and you had to do everything in your power not to moan out.
“Now, hands up again.” He commanded and you listened, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. You tried getting into the stance he had taught you prior only for your shoelaces to come undone and tripping you. The heartiest laugh you had ever heard left his mouth and you found yourself laughing too at just how pathetic this situation was. You were grateful for him, you hadn’t laughed like this in a long time. “Oh Maus.” He shook his head between laughter and leaning down to help you up from the ground. Instead of pulling you to your feet however, he pulled you off the ground and over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You lifted off the ground with a squeal, laughing as he carried you and you hit his lower back lightly. “Put me down!” You yelled between laughs, feeling the way his hand held the back of your knees to keep you in place. “You need to be less distracted during training, otherwise someone like me can just pick you up and take you.” He joked, spinning slightly to mess with you further.
He hadn’t anticipated you’d be so easy to throw over his shoulder, thoughts headed straight for the gutter once more. It was something that seemed to be happening more and more, each day he found something you did so incredibly attractive. These training sessions, seeing you sweating and panting, pressing your body into his, he felt like a mad man.
“Y/N.” Your father’s voice was stern, standing in the doorway looking at you both. “I need to talk to you.” He added on and you looked at him from König’s back. The man gently put you back down onto your feet and you straightened your clothes out. “Go on, I’ll clean up here.” König nodded between you and your father.
Following your father, you wandered to his office and wiped the sweat from your forehead with your arm. He was looking at you with an expression you weren’t entirely familiar with, it was between pity and something else, something you couldn’t put your finger on. “You seem to be doing better.” He remarked, sitting behind his desk. “I am…” You trailed off, thinking about König. “König has been a big help and a big comfort.” You added on and you watched your father smile, but you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t pull you aside to talk about your well-being.
“I’m glad. He seems to make you feel safe.” He paused, clearing his throat and looking at you. “I received an interesting offer a few days ago. I’ve been mulling it over. The offer was in regards to marrying you.” He explained and you felt your heart sink, words getting caught in your throat. “Seems you left quite the impression at the last party. Mr. Anderson was quite taken with you.” You took a moment to think, pull up a mental image of the man. However the moment a face could be placed to the name, you shot up from your seat. “Surely you’re joking. After the way he treated me at the party?” You asked, arms crossing over your chest for comfort. It felt like a sick joke, that that man had even made the suggestion after the way you were treating. It felt even worse to know your father considered it, especially after how the evening went.
“He apologized for his behaviour and made an incredible proposal.” He explained and you just huffed, normally you weren’t this emotional around your father but you were so angry it was just coming out. “He apologized? I didn’t receive an apology. Which to me means he apologized to you.” You were ranting now, tears of anger stinging at your eyes. “Y/N stop this. It’s no use.” Your father hushed you, making all your motions halt at once. His tone was scary reminding you just of the reason why you weren’t close to begin with. It was silly to think he would listen, or take any of your feelings into consideration. “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.” He sighed, looking at your face and your unreadable expression. Not that he ever was good at reading your expressions. “I already accepted the offer.”
You were stewing in anger, that was clear to anyone who would look at you. Your position in the world had been made clear to you in the last days. A trophy daughter to become a trophy wife, an object not even worth apologizing too. You had shut yourself off a little, no training, no leaving the house, not unless you had too. It wasn’t nearly as bad as after your attack, but you weren’t exactly enjoying anyone’s presence.
It was nearly midnight and you were sat in the living room, the radio on softly as you flipped through a book you had started that morning. It was a calm, no energy activity that allowed you to immerse yourself in some other world, perfect for your mood that day.
“I did a security check around the house and made sure the alarms on the estate are all working.” You jumped slightly at König’s voice. For someone so big, he was so good at being quiet. “Thank you König. I’m going to read a little longer.” You told him, barely looking at him.
Your father had informed him of the news and what was wrong, feeling nothing but rage at the situation himself. It was disrespectful to you, the whole ordeal. He couldn’t blame you for being upset, he couldn’t blame himself for want to smash this Mr. Anderson’s face in. However that wasn’t professional, if the man laid a finger on you in front of him again though… being professional would be thrown out the window. He’d kill him if he had too.
“Maus…” König’s voice was low, sitting down beside you on the couch. His weight made the couch dip, your sides brushing his and making you adjust your position. “What can I do to make you smile again?” He asked and you fully turned your body to look at him, sitting on your knees on the couch. His voice was riddled with concern and you could’ve cried at the way he was looking at you. It was inappropriate to think, but you wanted him. He could make you smile again by being yours.
“Well.” You said, feigning a smile. You could fake happy for him, only for him. “You could let me see your face.” You suggested and he let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. The action exposed his neck and you had to bite back every urge in you to lean over and kiss it. “You’re funny, Maus. No.” He responded bluntly, trying not to show how nice it felt to have you so close to him. You pouted, feeling your sadness slowly dissipate just by speaking to him. Maybe closing yourself off was the wrong choice.
“Okay, hear me out.” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He was watching your every move, calculating your breaths and taking note of how your eyes started to sparkle a little again. “You can cover my eyes and let me touch your face. I won’t see you, I just want to have an idea.” He was calculating your request too, the thought of your soft hands tracing over his features. Even the thought of you seeing him excited him. He wanted it, but taking your safety into account was more important. He supposed you touching him was alright.
“Alright, Maus. We’re doing this on my terms.” His voice got stern, turning his body to yours. You were beaming now, so excited and hoping your imagination would be able to fill in the blanks of not having sight. Your hand shot up to his mask, getting a little ahead of yourself and he grabbed your wrist. “Sorry, got too excited.” You admitted and he let your wrist slide down slightly, now holding your hand. “Too eager…” His voice turned gruff and you adjusted in your seat. He let your hand go and placed his hand over your eyes, the warm and rough skin such a contrast on yours.
König looked at your face, his hand covering over half of it and he bit back a groan. “Can you see anything?” He asked and you swallowed thickly, rubbing your thighs together a little. “No, nothing. I promise.” Your voice came out in a whine, making the whole situation even more difficult for the both of you. You wanted his hands everywhere, all over your body and you definitely didn’t want him covering your eyes.
“Good, maus.” He paused and you could hear some rustling, undoubtedly him taking the mask off. It was a good thing you weren’t standing, his praise left your knees weak. You drew a deep breath, your hands itching to touch his face. You flinched slightly feeling his free hand find yours, very gently taking it and guiding you towards his face. “Be gentle.” He said softly before your fingers grazed his chin. “I will.” Your voice trembled and you leaned forward, not feeling any resistance from him. Your chest was pressing into his shoulder and your free hand was on his chest. König was watching your every move with a smile, glad that he could let his face breathe for a moment. Your fingertips tickled his chin, dancing over his jaw and down the lines of his neck.
“I can feel your pulse.” You giggled and you could hear him let out a chuckle. He knew his pulse was elevated but that was okay, you were allowed to know. Your fingers moved up again, back over his chin and to his lips. Your pointer finger tracing over the lines, you tried imagining what he looked like. König felt warm, trying to do anything in his power to not pull you into his lap. Your face was so amusing to him, the parts he could see. Your lips curled into a thoughtful pout and while he couldn’t see it, he just knew your eyebrows were furrowed. All these little mannerisms of yours he had learned so fast.
“I think you’re handsome.” You remarked, hands moving to his hair. “Do you now?” He asked, smiling. “I bet you’re even more handsome when you’re smiling.” You added on, not realising the hand you had on his chest had moved down to his stomach. König was glad your eyes were covered because the closer your hand got to the waistband of his pants, the harder he was starting to get.
“Alright, Maus. That was enough fun.” He told you and you instinctively pulled your hands away and awaited further instruction. The hand over your eyes moved, now holding the side of your face as you blinked and adjusted to the light. His blue eyes were staring intensely at you. You looked significantly more happy than no twenty minutes prior and König felt amused knowing it was because of him.
“Part of me was hoping you’d not be wearing the mask.” You remarked and grabbed his hand again. You wrapped his arm around your shoulders and let your head rest on his chest, grabbing your book again.
“You’re getting too comfortable with me around.” His words and tone were contradictory to his body, relaxing into the couch and into your touch. “I know.” The words came out like a squeak, trying to ignore everything you felt to simply listen to his heartbeat. “I won’t be around forever to protect you, I highly doubt your fiancé will want to keep me around.” He added on, feeling you play with his fingers. Biting back tears, you turned the page in your book. “I know.”
It hurt him just as bad to think about and if you were marrying possibly anyone else, he’d think it was for the best. This man though, from his reputation and what he could find about him in his own research just seemed awful. The only thing he had going for him was that he’s rich and that’s probably what your father saw. It made König so angry, he could have taken care of the situation himself. He was a bodyguard though, he wasn’t in military anymore, those days were behind him.
He had to remind himself that as he watched the room, ignoring the flashes of the camera as you took your wedding photos. He could stare at you for hours and any bad thing in his life would have been alright. If it wasn’t for the lump of a man next to you, he would have been entirely relaxed. However you were entirely uncomfortable, feeling him hold your waist and feeling his hand dip down to touch a little more of you. It was written all over your face and you were sure the pictures would show that.
“The way your bodyguard looks at me should be reason enough to fire him.” Tom spat at you and furrowed your brows. “It’s because of your gleaming first impression.” You said in return and he rolled his eyes. You knew he was acting like this because he was scared. König was scary and you were simply lucky that you had him on your side, you didn’t want to know what it was like to have him as an enemy. In his mind, it took one interaction with Tom to know that was exactly what he was, an enemy.
“It all doesn’t matter. He’s not coming into my home. Brute of a man, no better than an animal. The moment our marriage contract is final, he’s gone.” König could hear the conversation and it amused him. He thought he was getting rid of him that easily? It was a fucking joke. Tom thought König was an animal, he could show him an animal. He was your guard dog after all. “You’re half the man he is.” You said, leaning over and fixing your hair in the mirror. Biting back a smile, he shook his head to himself. “That’s my maus.” He thought to himself, anger slowly subsiding as he realised your growth. You were standing more and more up for yourself.
Trudging behind König, you watched him carrying a big tactical bag. The sun was slowly starting to go down, painting the sky in a light pink colour and causing a chilly breeze to flow through the trees. In moments like this, you realised that the wooded area around your house was actually quite pretty.
“What’s are we going to do?” You asked as he stopped walking. Something about him was different that day, his clothes seemed more tactical, his demeaner was darker and well you felt even a little scared of him. “Well, you don’t seem to be enjoying the fighting training so I thought we’d take a break from that.” He started, patting a log for you to sit as he started opening his bag. You sat down where he said, watching him pull a bunch of things from the bag. “Figure I’d see how good your survival tactics are or at least, how good you can hide in a scary situation.” A wave of fear and something else travelled through your body. “According to your husband to be, I’m fired the day you get married. I have to know you can at least hide if you’re in trouble.” He added on, eyes lingering on you. You hadn’t realised he heard that.
“You heard that?” You asked, fingers mindlessly toying with some of the gear. “Yeah I heard that. I also heard him call me an animal.” He grumbled and you suddenly realised why he was angry. You felt bad, until you saw him pull another mask over the ski mask. The loose fabric hung over his shoulders and had light bleached strips around the eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh as he looked at you. “What is that?” You asked and you could tell he was knitting his brows together in confusion. “It’s my sniper hood from the military.” König explained and you were still giggling. “Is it that amusing to you?” He asked, tone entirely different from before.
He knew he was being harsh that day, but he just was angry about the whole situation. When he came up with this training, he had you in mind, he needed to know you could run in a bad situation. For his own peace of mind.
“I though you said I needed to be able to hide in a scary situations? If you’re chasing me like that, it’s not scary at all.” You smiled and he adjusted the hood a little to sit right. You didn’t think this was scary, the same masked face that had other men begging for mercy? Maybe he wanted to scare you a little, maybe he was to easy on you the whole time. “You don’t think I’m scary, Maus? I’ll show you scary and I’ll show that weak fucker you call a fiancé what an animal is.” His tone was dark and shut you up immediately. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed. “Get ready to run, Maus. I’m not going easy on you.”
He had given you a 10 minute head start and you had taken off running, throwing caution to the wind. You weren’t entirely sure what had gotten into him but his tone and the look in his eye made you fear for what would happen if he found you. Part of you was excited too, wondering if you should not try too hard to hide. You rejected that idea quickly the second you heard rustling from a few metres back. Were the 10 minutes up already?
You picked up your pace, running a little faster than before. However you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer, your side already starting to cramp up as you ran. You’d have to try and hide and that was scarier than running. Coming to a stop, you looked around, seeing trees and only trees all around you. Nothing obvious to hide behind, which might have been a good thing. You tucked your body behind a nearby tree and tried regulating your breathing, hoping that wouldn’t be the thing to give you away.
König’s emotions had come to a middle, he was angry, frustrated and so fucking turned on he thought his cock would rip through his pants. He wanted you, in every way and while he had done a good job of controlling himself the last months, he couldn’t anymore. Stalking through the woods and feeling like a predator, his veins were on fire.
“Are you hiding, maus?” He asked, not quite raising his voice as he walked through the woods. He knew his tone was patronizing but he couldn’t help it, he knew exactly where you were. Not wanting to crush your spirit fully though, he drew it all out. Anticipation was half the fun, at least from his experiences.
You could hear his voice and your heartrate instantly sped up. Cupping a hand over your mouth to steady your breathing, you debated your options of staying in place or running again. “What’s going to happen if he catches me?” You thought to yourself, thighs pressing together to try and dull the ache that was forming between your legs. “Mausss.” His voice was still distant but his tone taunting you, now this was a game and now… you wanted to win. Pushing off the ground, you took off running in the opposite direction of his voice. You ignored the aching in your side and the excited feeling in your stomach.
“I’ve got you now, Maus!” You heard him call with a laugh, making your blood run cold. Despite all your aches you pushed yourself to run even faster and tried your best to tune out the rustling and the sound of heavy boots getting closer. “Fuck.” You muttered to yourself, not being able to regulate your breathing very well as you tried to push yourself even harder. You knew he could see you, so you didn’t bother staying quiet as a grunt of frustration left your mouth.
The footsteps were right behind you now, König’s voice feeling like it was right in your ear. “If you don’t run faster, Maus, I’m going to catch you.” Goosebumps coated your skin and as badly as you wanted to do as you were told, you couldn’t. König could sense this, your helplessness not to doing anything to stifle his arousal one bit. He couldn’t take it anymore, lurching forward and grabbing you. His arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you up before forcing you to the ground. You screamed at the sudden attack, squirming and kicking as he easily manhandled you onto your back. It hurt a little but it was a good kind of hurt, the kind of hurt that made you want to squeeze your thighs together. Only you couldn’t because of the way he had you pinned, large body in between your legs and one hand holding both of yours over your head as the other supported his weight.
You were so hyperaware of everything, the animalistic look in his eyes, the way your cunt was aching with arousal, both of your heavy breathing and König’s big, incredibly hard bulge pressing into your lower stomach. “Fuck.” You breathed, hips moving unintentionally to rut against him. “Does me chasing you like an animal really make you feel that way?” He asked, the taunting tone still evident in his voice. This wasn’t the sweet and kind König you knew. “König please.” You whined tugging your arms down to try and touch him. He was being so condescending, laughing at your struggle.
Your body under his like this was everything he had wanted, your eyes filled with lust and also a little bit of fear. Oh when he was done with you…
He let your hands go, lifting his mask to rest just on his nose before leaning down. You let out a soft gasp at the sight of his lips, shock at his resolve melting this badly. König held your face, adjusting his hips and angling them to press into your core. He watched your eyes shut, moaning his name softly. His lips pressed into your roughly, allowing you to moan against lips and you could feel his mask tickling your nose. His tongue snaking into your mouth as your hands gripped at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin through the compression shirt.
Your head was swimming, his kisses reducing you to a puddle of mush in his arms. It was all so much, the sounds of the trees rustling together with the earthy smell and the feeling of his body on you. This wasn’t something you thought you’d be into, not until now. He bucked his hips and you yelped against his lips, feeling just how big he was. He smiled, moving his lips down to the side of your neck as his hands moved to your hips and then to your ass. He gave the flesh a squeeze before raising your hips to meet his again. “You’re so loud, Maus. I’ve hardly even touched you yet.” He said against your skin at the sound of another moan leaving your mouth. “Wonder how loud you’ll be when I’m stretching you open, that sweet, sweet pussy.” He licked a spot on your neck before biting down, causing you to cry out.
He pushed your shirt up to rest just over your boobs, hand grabbing the band of your bra and giving it a rough yank that you knew would leave marks on your shoulders. Your thin bra straps ripped as he tugged it down, showing your bare chest to him and exposing your nipples to the chilly dusk air. He undid the remaining part of your bra and tossed it somewhere into the woods. He leaned back on his heels, looking at you exposed to him. Your chest was rising and falling heavily and the marks he had left on your neck from sucking and biting were slowly turning red. “Your body was made for me, Maus.” He grumbled, his hands moving from your waist up to toy with your nipples. His hand cupped your breast, thumb flicking the bud as you squirmed slightly. “I just want to wreck you, destroy you for that fuck who’s going to marry you.” His lips wrapped around your other nipple, biting down on your breast for a moment to hear you scream. He knew the balance between pain and pleasure and it was something you had never experienced. You knew for a fact you’d be ruined after this.
König pulled the waist band of your pants, pulling them off together with your underwear before undoing his pants. He didn’t bother taking them off, pushing them down low enough for his cock to spring free and against his lower stomach. You couldn’t help but watch, wondering just how you were going to fit him inside of you. Before doing anything else, he pulled his mask back down properly and grabbed your legs. You could feel your slick dripping from your pussy as he put your legs on his shoulders. His fingers moved to your clit, spreading your lips apart to swirl his thumb over the nub. You tried scrambling from the intense feeling only for his free hand to slap the side of your thigh, undoubtedly leaving a large hand print behind. “Don’t fucking move.” He warned, continuing to draw circles over the nub. You had never been this wet before and König was taking mental notes.
“You wanted me to do this, when I told you to run, you wanted me to catch you and make you go dumb on my cock.” He remarked and you nodded, head lulling as you did so. König chuckled, lining his cock up to your entrance. Nuzzling his head into your calf, he pushed himself into you and the stretch made you call out. Gripping the dirt around you as he bottomed out. With the minimal prep he gave you, tears brimmed your eyes. Not only due to his size but also due to the position, making his tip kiss your cervix in a way that hurt so good.
“Oh Maus.” He groaned, voice sounding like a growled as he fucked into you. You were a crying, moaning mess all tight around him and König could have cum alone from looking at you. He folded you in half, one arm by your head as the other held your waist for leverage with your legs still on his shoulders. His face was close to yours, wanting to see every little expression as he fucked you like an animal, grunts leaving his lips with every thrust. “Tell me-“ He started, hand coming up to wipe a tear from your eye. “Tell me how fucking good it feels to get fucked by a savage brute.” He was using Tom’s words against you and it made you clench around him.
“It feels so good.” You cried as you felt the knot in your stomach get close to bursting. “König, I only want you.” You added on, any thoughts of Tom (not that you had many thoughts of him to begin with) getting fucked right out of your head. Your orgasm hit you hard, your leg shaking as your pussy clamped down on him. Nothing but incoherent babble came out of your mouth and König found him pulling back to look at where your bodies connected, watching the way your cunt was fluttering around him. However he was nowhere near done himself and even if he was, when it came to you he was insatiable.
The small pause only lasted one moment before he started fucking you again, your eyes shooting open as you tried to squirm away, the pleasure being too much. “Your pussy is so tight, Maus. No matter how hard I fuck you, you’re not opening up for me.” He laughed, taking note of the way your legs were still shaking and your breasts bouncing with each thrust. Your skin was hot to the touch and you were trying to get a grip of anything for some kind of a hold on. You looked so fucked out, eyes glossy and lips swollen as you murmured incoherently. He was using you like his own personal sex toy, trying to reach his own orgasm now.
Pulling you off of the ground, he allowed your legs to now wrap around his waist as he held you up. Lifting and dropping you on his cock as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Every thrust had you crying out, overstimulated and closer to another orgasm. König’s eyes were locked with yours and you could tell he was furrowing his brows. “Please, please cum inside me.” You begged, voice barely a whisper. His eyes widened, pace faltering at your words. “Maus…” His words trailed off, mask covered face burying into your neck. “Please, König.” You begged again, sobbing as your orgasm washed over you. The man pulled you down on him fully and halted his movements, cock twitching as he filled your pussy to the brim.
“You made a mess.” He grumbled, feeling both of your release drip from your pussy as he stayed still inside of you. “Mmm.” You hummed, head resting on his shoulder as your body gave into exhaustion and wrapped around him for warmth. “Is my Maus tired?” He cooed, one hand stroking your hair. Your whole body ached in the best way and you were absolutely exhausted. “You aren’t?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him. The animalistic look in his eyes had died down, his normal expression taking over again. “I can’t be, I need to take care of you.” He said softly, hands brushing your messy hair out of your face. “I think that’s fair. You did tackle me to the ground.” You yawned and he shook his head with a laugh. “Oh my dear Maus. I love you so much.”
König had helped you clean yourself up, even helped you into bed but he didn’t stay the night with you. He retired to his own room, thinking about the way he lost control of himself and the way it all shouldn’t have happened, especially not given your circumstances. It wasn’t like he could go to your father and say you shouldn’t marry Tom, or tell him that he was in love with you… let alone that you had sex. It could make things even more difficult for you. Not to mention the age difference, he was almost twice your age. Despite all these thoughts, he couldn’t help himself but think about how good you felt around him and how sweet you sounded screaming his name.
You woke up to the sound of a knocking on your door, sitting up in bed you told them to come in. König peaked into the room and you couldn’t help the bright smile that formed on your face. It was in that moment he decided that all the circumstances didn’t matter. Even if he had to be your guard dog for the rest of his life, even if you were married and he was just there to satisfy your needs from that asshole, protect you from him, he would be okay with that.
“Maus.” He said softly, walking over to you bed and gently sitting next to you. “I was getting worried because you weren’t up yet.” He added on and you found your cheeks getting warm. How could you admit you weren’t entirely capable of walking after last night’s events? Between the running and the sex, your whole body was sore.
He pulled back the blankets and grabbed your calves, assuming you were sore before you even said anything. Wearing nothing but a sleep shirt and underwear, you felt exposed despite the previous day. “Are you that sore?” He asked with an amused tone to his voice. “Can you blame me?” You asked, listening to his hearty laugh. You couldn’t help yourself as your hand came up to his face, tracing his jaw through the ski mask. Your fingers moved the edge of the mask, gently tugging it upwards so that his lips were free and you leaned forward to press a light kiss to them. His hand had stopped moving at your actions, suddenly unsure what to do with them until he moved them upwards to your waist. He lifted you into his lap, leaving the mask half on as he kissed you again.
“You like it when I pick you up like that don’t you?” He asked, the slight mocking tone from the day before back in his voice. “I do.” You admitted, gathering your strength to straddle his lap instead. König leaned himself back into your pillows, amused at where this was going despite you being sore. Hands holding your thighs and slowly moving upwards, taking your sleep shirt with them. “I thought you were sore.” He remarked as you slowly grinded down on him. You were most definitely sore, but God you needed him again. “I am, but I’m also stubborn.” You said and he nodded his head. “That you most definitely are, Maus. So beautifully stubborn.” He said and pulled the shirt from your body, leaving you fully bare aside from your underwear.
Leaning forward, he kissed over your neck and collar bones as his hands grazed over the sides of your breasts. You leaned away from him, tutting slightly and he shot you a confused look. “I want to see you too and I don’t necessarily mean your face, but if you’re feeling generous.” You smiled, sitting down on his thighs. The man shook his head, hands still gently rubbing over your skin. “Nice try. I can give you half of what you want though.” He said, tugging his shirt over his head. “Stubborn girl.” He threw his shirt to the side and looked at you smiling at him. “If you want the rest off, you’re going to have to work for it.” He said, watching you take him in. He was so muscular, freckles spotting his chest lightly and a small trail of hair disappearing into his pants.
“That’s no problem.” You said and leaned down, running your tongue over his abs to the edge of his pants. Undoing the button and zipper of his pants, you tugged the fabric down together with his boxers. Seeing his cock like this made you sceptical once more about how he was going to fit. “Maus, you don’t have to do this.” He said, brushing your hair from your face. “But I want too.” You told him, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. “A thank you for all the things you’ve done for me.” You added on and wrapped your lips around his tip. Your tongue swirling over his slit as you arched your back and stuck your ass in the ear. “Fuck, at least move over here. Let me touch you.” He hissed and you moved, your head resting on his thigh as you sucked his cock from the side. His fingers moved to your panty covered slit, pulling them to the side and gently rubbing over your clit. You hummed around his cock, taking more of him into your mouth and jerking off what didn’t fit.
“Fuck that feels good.” He groaned, hips bucking into your mouth as he slipped two fingers into you. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched you out as he tried to keep his hips still, not wanting to hurt you. “Maus you better stop if you want me to last. You wore me out yesterday too.” He sounded serious and it made you feel good, at least you were on the same level. You pulled him out of your mouth, your head falling back onto his thigh as you moaned out. His fingers curling into you and grazing that sweet spot inside of you.
Pulling his fingers out of you, you sighed and moved to straddle his waist again. His fingers moved to your lips, waiting for you to lick them clean. “Good god, what did I do in my life time to deserve this.” He said, watching your lips wrap around his fingers. “You’ve been a really good guard dog.” You said once he took his fingers out of your mouth. He shook his head and grabbed your ass, guiding his cock into you slowly. He knew you were sore from the day before, he was going to take it slow today. Your nails dug into his chest at the stretch, back arching at the feeling. Your chest was in his face and he couldn’t help himself but wrap his lips around your nipple as he thrust into you. It was slow but forceful and the extra sensation made you whimper. “God, I love you.” You admitted in a moan, his cockhead hitting that sweet spot in you. His pace picked up and his hand pulled your head down, lips tangling for a messy kiss.
“Say it again.” He mumbled against your lips, holding your hair as he fucked you softly. “I love you.” You repeated, feeling yourself getting close. “I love you so much- oh my God.” You cried out, cumming so hard tears brimmed your eyes. König wasn’t far behind, a few more thrusts before pulling your lips to his for another kiss as he unloaded inside of you again.
Petting your hair as you came down from your highs, he put his mask on correctly again after peppering your neck with kisses. His nose nuzzling the side of your face as his hands rubbed over your bare back with you still on top of him. You were utterly in love, the post orgasm glow all over your body as he continued to rub over your skin.
“I don’t want to marry him. You know that.” You said and König nodded, not entirely sure where you were going with this. Surely you had thought of your circumstances too. “Maus, his words only mean so much. Even if he doesn’t want me there, I’ll be there. Protecting you, taking care of you. If he so much as touches you in a way that makes you frown, I’ll take his hand. I promise you that.” König's tone was so serious, making butterflies fill your stomach. "You promise?" You asked, tracing over the ridges of his face through the mask, trying to use muscle memory to see if you could see his face in your mind.
"I promise."
A/N: idk what came over me but I got possessed. Now I'll be mia as i really need to study. Wasn't planning on finishing this until the second half of the week.
#cod#call of duty#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#call of duty smut#könig smut#könig#könig x reader
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Long ramble anon here, I'm happy you liked my long ask I was just concerned that I put way too much as I have a tendency to hyperfixate snd overexplain, hence the tldr at the end. To be honest ever since seeing the fox beastman I've been on a bit of a kick with theorizing things for him. (Did the same thing with Rollo hehe) Anyway, if you want some more of my takes I'm happy to share.
Alright so you know how beastmen retain some of their animalistic traits? Well my brain immediately goes to what this means for their romantic endeavors and courting behaviors. Not much is known about the courting process for foxes, but we do know that scent marking and loud vocal barking is used to attract a mate. How does this carry over to a humanoid fox? Well, my theory is that he will likely give his darling something like his coat, or spray whatever cologne he uses on their things or use more of it when he knows he's going to see them. As for the loud vocal barking you better believe my mind immediately went to him just belting out a serenade for his darling, regardless of how he actually may sound I think he's self-assured and prideful enough to believe this would definitely entice his soon to be mate.
Another interesting thing about foxes is that they are monogamous to a fault, rarely ever taking another mate after the passing of their partner, instead remaining loyal until their own passing (at least this was what I've read in my admittedly surface level research). To me this means two things, 1) once Fellow sets his eyes on a darling that's absolutely it for him regardless of how he has to get them by his side it is an inevitability so if they would just be a good dear and surrender early on everything could be so much better, and 2) should anything unfortunate befall to his darling he wouldn't ever fall for anyone else and likely never fully recover emotionally.
Tldr; The fox man would woo his darling with his surely illustrious (at least to him) voice and his cologne or perhaps natural pheromones, and once he woos them Fellow would never so much as look at another in the same light.
Don't apologize Anon!! I love it when people send in long asks about their hyperfixations!! It feels so endearing and sweet and makes me want to give you a big hug!! I'm literally the same when it comes to hyperfixate and overexplain, when I'm obsessed with something (TV show, movie, game, etc) I need to feel it in my veins!! Plus being able to chat about it with people on Tumblr is always one of the best parts!!
I can't stop laughing at the thought of Fellow sending his darling with loud obnoxious barking 🤣🤣 Bonus points if the reader is a regular human and just stares at him confused, while Leona, Ruggie, and Jack just nod in approval in the background (or in anger and disbelief, depends on the scenario). The idea of him sharing his cologne and jacket with Reader is actually really sweet. I like to think that some ways down the line if Fellow ever had to go away for an extended period of time. Reader would just cuddle into a corner hugging his jacket and spraying some of his cologne on herself. He'd be so delighted coming home and smelling his scent so strongly on his beloved.
I love this!! Just Fellow knowing that reader is the one from the first look 😍😍😍😍 He's so smitten and lays on the charm extra thick. Wanting them all so badly and doing anything to get them. If Reader should die (Lord forbid) Fellow definitely wouldn't get another partner BUT he'd also go the extra mile and try to resurrect them. Magic exists in Twisted Wonderland so I'm sure someone out there has the ability to raise the dead. He'd do absolutely anything to hold you in his arms again.
Look Reader is getting a really sweet deal here. A tall handsome man (+ bonus he comes with A SUPER FLUFFY TAIL AND EARS) with a smooth voice, and a charming personality. Willing to give her anything, do anything for her, and make sure she had the best life imaginable. He's physically incapable of cheating and would fawn over the reader like a lovestruck puppy. He's literally just perfect!! Ignoring the manipulative tendencies, obsessive behavior, and ability to maim someone with his teeth😊😊
#fellow honest#ferro honest#ferro twst#ferro honest x reader#twisted wonderland#fellow honest x reader#fellow honest x you#yandere fellow honest#yandere ferro honest#yandere#yancore#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere aesthetic#yandere twisted wonderland#anon asks#twst headcanons#twst x reader#twst x you#yandere twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland fellow honest#twisted wonderland ferro honest#twst event#twst halloween event
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welcome to the final show | H.S, part 4
my masterlist!
summary: suddenly it’s not just you and harry anymore, and not only do the general media want an explanation, but so do your friends and family. however, the two of you are only just figuring things out yourselves.
warnings: paparazzi, anxiety surrounding leaked images, fluff, comforting, confessions, make out session, sexual content!
a/n: no because i am so thrilled for you all to read this. these two are so much fun to write about. I hope you enjoy <3
(I was on the fence about including smut, but I decided i wanted to! if that’s not something you want to read, a little warning will come up when it’s about to begin. plot wise you won’t miss anything if you choose not to read it!)
———
There’s a certain type of love that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.
And it’s an all consuming kind. One that when you think about it you feel it to the bone.
And oh, had you done a lot of thinking. Overthinking was pretty much all you’ve been doing the past two weeks.
You obviously are attracted to Harry. Physically, emotionally… just in every sense of the word. That’s nothing new for you. And even throughout the points of denial since forming a personal relationship with him. It’s the truth.
You’ve probably gaslit yourself out of it more times then you could count. However picture evidence of you holding hands with him in the homely streets of Italy is kind of a slap to the face.
And despite how cute you think the photos may be, you are still inexplicably panicked about them.
It’s the morning after the photos got posted. And you are genuinely still in shock. You struggled to fall asleep last night after the images first came out— your brain in complete overdrive for god knows how long until you fell asleep.
And this morning you’re ignoring the influx of messages and calls you’re getting from family, friends, and people you’ve met through love on tour.
Several texts from your own sister coming through half an hour ago. All of them including the word ‘fuck’. Shes definitely mad you didn’t tell her this had happened.
Either way, you’re left pacing the length of your hotel room. Heart still near racing in your chest as you try to figure out what to do, and how to handle something like this.
You held hands with him, you remind yourself. You didn’t get caught making out with him… the act for you came across as still something bordering platonic— even though you wished it were anything but that. This could eventually blow over.
You sigh out, leaning against the wall of your hotel, this was considerably more simple when the rest of the population had no idea it was happening.
Now they do, and they have a lot of questions. Plus, it makes it significantly harder when it’s about things you don’t even have answers to.
Harry hadn’t messaged you since everything had happened. If he even knows is beyond you.
But it felt wrong talking to anyone about it without talking to him first.
You felt a sense of guilt. Because this easily will stir up drama for him. Stuff like this spreads so fast, and you’ve seen it happen 100 times. But now you’re no longer in the back seat just watching it unfold. There will be articles, posts, even snippets in the newspapers about it. And whether or not it’s something he’s accustomed to, you still feel at fault. Like you could’ve been more careful, more considerate.
You move to sit on the edge of your unmade bed, staring at your phone that you’ve left on the bench top. How do you even approach it? What do you say to him?
You quickly decide you don’t really want to, at the moment. There is too much going through your head, and you’re still a bit freaked out about it all.
So another anxiety shower is. Which for right now, is your best and favourite option.
Standing up, you head to the bathroom, leaving your phone out in the room, allowing it to continue buzzing while you decide it’s time for some hardcore self-care to calm yourself down.
On the other side of things, Harry is also freaking out. He woke up to texts from a couple people, asking about a headline?
And for people he knows personally to be reaching out about trashy posts on the media, it’s almost always a bad sign.
One being from James, who has been off ‘The Late Late Show’ too long for him to withhold himself from making bad jokes when they present themselves.
Are they even allowed to put that many exclamation marks in the title? Overkill if you ask me. 😪😪
But when he reads the link and sees the image of himself with you, his anxiety immediately shifts from being personal.
[ 1 attachment link] : Styles Has Found His Next Musical Muse, But She’s Actually a ‘Hardcore Fangirl!!!’”
He’s almost positive you will have seen the leaked images. There is no way you would have missed this unless you were still sleeping.
Guilt nearly slaps him in the face. You do not deserve this. He already knows that you’re probably being slammed on Twitter and in comments of these pathetic articles.
And that is never nice. He hates it enough when it’s himself, and that’s after a decade of learning how to deal with it.
His concern for you leads to a text, one he doesn’t want to make, but does anyway. Purely for the fact he needs to know you’re alright.
Because the worst thing that could happen is you having some kind of anxiety attack after reading something online, and not having anyone there to be with you to talk you down. Regardless of how confident you can appear to him, he’s not taking the chance.
Hi love, can you please let me know you’re alright?
He sends it through, and then he typed out another one after it’s been about five long minutes without a reply.
I am very possibly overreacting right now, but do you need me to come over?
Another ten minutes go by,
I’ll be over in about 15. x
He is aware this may be over the top. You could be asleep. You could be just processing what’s happened— since he still remembers the first time things like this happened to him. And it’s a really weird experience.
But he is undeniably protective of you. That is one thing he can’t lie about.
And even more-so, he’s terrified this will scare you off. Because if it’s too much for you, he has no clue how he’d deal with it. Since it’s way too far out of his hands now.
Even though he knew well that this was a easily plausible situation. And it’s almost surprising how long they’ve gone without it happening earlier.
In his own time, he’s been overthinking plenty too. Wondering if it’s normal to want to lay your entire life down for someone two weeks after meeting them.
Maybe if he were 16… but pushing 30… it might be a bit harder to justify.
But somehow, despite knowing how stupid he probably seems, he leaves his bedroom after throwing on some shorts and a tshirt. Going out and grabbing the keys for his car from the kitchen.
Gemma is out there cooking toast, and she turns around to see him near running out the door.
“Harry!” She says, and when he stops to give her a quick greeting she interrupts him.
“Don’t worry so much.” She sighs.
Immediately confused, he frowns, frozen in place, “what…?”
“I’m assuming that this Y/N you’ve been on about really likes you too, okay? There’s no way she doesn’t. So just treat it like any other relationship or friendship you have. No matter the circumstances you met under. If you like her, you like her. Don’t let shit from the media get to either of you.”
Her advice comes just when he needs it, as it always does. And even though he acts like she doesn’t, she knows almost everything there is to know.
A small nod, “Thank you Gem…”
She gives him a warm smile, one that’s always encouraged him.
———
You hear the knock on the door while you’re standing in the bathroom, finishing applying a face mask. Stood clad in your shorts and black boob tube.
And after finally calming down a bit, it gives you another wave of panic. Since after waiting a few moments, the rapping on the door continues. You were hoping they would just go away, whoever it was.
You quietly leave your bathroom, going down the short hallway to look through the peephole in the door.
You don’t even get your eye up to it before you hear the all too familiar voice on the other side.
“Y/N, it’s Harry…” He was a bit muffled, but you didn’t even think as you start unlatching the locks on the door.
The look of relief on his face when you finally peek out is almost palpable.
“Hi…” you say quietly, pulling the door open further, letting him come in quickly.
He has two cups in his hands, and once he’s inside your room, he is fast to place them on the nearest free space.
“What are you—“ you don’t get through the sentence before he breaches the distance between you, tugging you into a hug, uncaring of the face mask residue getting on his shirt.
He squeezes you, “‘M so glad y’alright.”
You take a deep breath. So, he knows.
You feel immediately bad for not letting him know earlier, before he felt the need to come over.
“Did you call me? I’m so sorry, i was in the—”
“I texted you couple times— don’t be sorry. I don’t want it to seem weird I came rushing over… i was jus’ worried about you.”
You slowly draw back, “I was going to text you, I just didn’t want to… i didn’t know how to go about it, i guess?”
He pulls away, “I am so fuckin’ sorry this happened.”
“Why are you apologising? I should be…”
“Why should you apologise? You of all people do not deserve to be dissected by people in the media. Ive dragged you into something you didn’t deserve to be dragged into.” He says, sounding exasperated.
“You aren’t at fault for any of this, H. I feel like I’ve stirred up unnecessary drama up for you…” To this he immediately shakes his head.
“You haven’t. I was just worried about how you’d perceive it all… and fuck— i didn’t want it to scare you off.”
You both seem to realise that you were freaking out over each other. Starting to laugh together, realising how stupid you both probably sound.
“Okay… we sound really silly.” You sigh, moving to grab the cup he’d placed down prior to your very quick debrief.
“But seriously, Harry,” you lead him over to sit down on the edge of your bed with you, “I am still sorry. I feel like I’ve caused unnecessary… assumptions.”
He frowns a little, “assumptions?”
“About us. You know…” you shrug, eyes avoiding him, doing a terrible job at acting nonchalant.
“That we’re together? That what you’re so shy about, hm?” He teases, and you physically cannot handle the way he says it.
“I— well— Yes, sure that’s what I was going for.”
You gently scratch at the dried edges of your clay face mask, and he watches quietly, wishing he could see the blush that’s risen on your cheeks underneath it.
“Why were you showering so early— It’s like midday, I thought you said you showered in the evening?” He asks, out of the blue, causing you to frown.
Your answer comes out unsurely, “I have anxiety showers sometimes. It calms me down.”
He cocks his eyebrow, “Is that why you were literally dripping wet when i came over the other day?”
He pins you with his gaze, and you don’t reply for a few seconds. You were hoping he broke the silence himself, but it was clear he was waiting for a response.
You blurt out, “You make me nervous!”
To this he laughs, “I make you nervous?”
“Not… all the time.” You amend, “Just sometimes.”
You remove yourself before he can ask more questions, and you go to wash off the face mask in the bathroom, while he’s still stifling his laughter.
You emerge after washing it off with cold water, and his eyes follow your every step as you go to sit back down.
“Yknow, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better I’d—“
He’s cut off by a bang on the front door.
You were only scared for a second, until you heard a shrill feminine shout from outside it. One you know to be your best friends classic angry voice.
You were relieved for only about another second before you realised, she will probably break that door down if you don’t let her in.
Oh god.
“Y/N Y/L/N. LET. ME. IN!” You can picture her angry little face. And you’re almost a bit terrified of her.
But you have to hide Harry. Like you have to actually hide him.
“Harry— you— fuck, get up—” You whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible, grabbing his wrist.
“What is happening?” He sounds awfully confused as you manhandle him around the hotel room, trying to find an adequate place to hide a 6 foot tall man from your fired up best friend.
“She may kill you— she loves you— but she’s very mad at me right now, because I didn’t tell her about,” you pause as you try to label again whatever the two of you were, “us… this… whatever you want to deem it.”
You realise the cupboard is about the only reasonable place, unless you make him climb down the balcony.
“Are you—“
“Y/N! i already KNOW you’re in there!” She calls from the door again.
You tug the door of it open, “Get in!”
You half push him inside it, “I’m so sorry, but just, just sh okay??”
He nods hastily, and you quite literally shut him in there.
“I’m coming!” You shove the takeaway cups into a kitchen cupboard and rush to the door.
Letting her in, she practically storms past you. And you pray to god you can get rid of her in a short period of time.
“I’m sorry!” You say to her, grabbing her hands.
“How could you not tell me something like that?!” She barks, shaking your arms like an angry child.
You do feel bad, because you would also be pissed if it were the other way around.
You try to explain, clutching her warm palms tighter, “To respect his privacy! I wanted to, so, so badly but I just… I didn’t want it getting out.”
She groans, pulling you in for a tight, yet still frustrated hug.
“But you know I wouldn’t have told anyone!”
“I do, i know. I’m sorry.” You embrace her, “but every time we were together there were other people… and I just hadn’t figured out how, let alone talked to him about it.”
She calms down a tiny bit, and sometimes the best way to describe her is like a miniature tornado. Her anger is very quick to bubble over and turn her into this fired up, yelling ball of energy. Yet it dissipates shortly after she lets it all out.
“Okay, well I get that, of course. But… wait are you two actually— have you slept with him?” You pull back from the hug and give her a shocked stare. Her ask stuns you for a moment.
You’re hyperaware that he is listening to this conversation.
What is he thinking right now— you can’t help but wonder. And you have to physically force yourself to push the thoughts that come with such a question aside.
“I— why would you ask me that!” You hiss at her, sounding guilty, even though you’re just throughly embarrassed.
“Because he's Harry Styles!” She exclaims, “who happens to be a very gorgeous man, and I would not be surprised if you wanted— I don't know— in his pants?”
“We are just friends!” You drag your hand down your face. Internally pleading that she stops saying embarrassing shit.
“Whatever you little liar. Acting like as if you haven't said on multiple occasions just how bad you wan—“
“OKAY!” You interrupt, trying to keep the frantic tone out of your voice, “I get it. I really do, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But look, I have so many people I have to call and— i think my whole family also want me dead— so can we maybe get a coffee tomorrow? Talk it over, and you can ask all the questions you want.”
At your proposal, she seems to realise you mean it. And despite the confused look on her face at the fact you’re kicking her out to call what is basically her own adopted family, it seems she understands.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna seem pushy. I was… just also in shock. Tomorrow at 10?” She smiles.
You start both walking over to the door, “that’s perfect.”
Tugging her into another hug, she huffs out an ‘I love you.’
You laugh and give her a chaste peck on the side of her head, “I love you too. I promise I wanted to tell you on my end. I just didn’t want to fuck anything up…”
She nods, pulling back, “I know. And if you need anything, or anyone before I see you tomorrow, don’t forget I’m only a few floors up.”
“I won’t.” You open the door for her, and bid a final goodbye. And once it’s shut, you realise how badly you want the ground beneath your feet to literally swallow you whole.
Despite the embarrassment, you quickly rush over to let Harry out of the cupboard you’d shoved him in.
And as he steps out, adorning a smirk and clearly stifling a laugh, you apologise profusely.
“God— I am so incredibly sorry.”
A proper abashed grin spreads across his face, one that flashes his dimples. Reminding you of the sign you took to the last show, telling him how pretty you thought his smile was. You still think the same.
“Kind of exciting hiding in a cupboard. I never even did it as a teenager.” He chuckles, brushing a few stray curls from his eyes.
“Do I look a little more youthful? As gorgeous as ever?” He teases.
“I am so sorry you had to hear all of that, she has a… she lacks a filter.” You excuse, cheeks flaming as you try to dig yourself out of the hole your best friend has unwittingly buried you in.
“That's okay love, but I am a little curious…”
You frown at his careful words.
He takes a step closer as he continues, “what so badly did you want to do to me that you told all your friends about?”
At this, you completely turn your face away from his green-eyed stare. Because you cannot trust yourself.
He doesn’t realise the dangerous game he’s playing with you right now. Especially while he’s standing in-front of you like this. Tattooed arms out, beautiful face and jawline on display.
“Y/N, darling. I asked a question.” His voice has turned to honey. He’s talking you in a way he never has before. With a tone that is almost demanding an answer, laced with a undertone of seduction.
“Stop it.” You hiss, flicking his solid chest with your hand.
He steps forward, and you step back in response. He backs you up all the way to the edge of your bed.
“Stop being a flirt.” You scoff, finally holding eye contact for more than a second.
His pupils have blown out a little, and the stare he’s giving you is something you want burned into the underside of your eyelids.
“Why? Is it working.” He chuckles, demeanour softening a tiny bit as his hand slides down your arm.
You don’t reply.
“Please tell me, Y/N. I want to know. Y’know I’m nosey.”
“Resorted to begging, I see.” You snort, heart still hammering behind your rib cage.
“If it works, I can do plenty of it.” He playfully remarks.
You try to not reply again, but you’re met with a silence. Somehow he knows you’re going to fill it with a fumbled half-confession.
“I don’t even really remember. I was probably tipsy on some wine. Said some stuff to… the girls. After a show.”
“After a show?” He smirks, “Which one?”
“Barcelona. And maybe back at… another. One or two others.”
“But that’s all I’m saying!” You interject, hoping he takes that as enough of an answer.
He laughs at your attempted defiance.
“Anyways, what even— what are you getting at here?” You ask, because truly, his flirting is heavily confusing you. In every way possible.
“Remember when you told me I had a the prettiest smile?” He lightly grazes your hip with his warm hand.
“I— yes. That was like, 2 weeks ago. What’s your point?” You are biting at your bottom lip.
“Don’t get feisty.” He coos, “Everytime I smile around you, I think of that. And then, I wonder what other things you think about me. What other parts you see of me and consider as pretty.”
“And, can you blame a man for wanting to know what dirty things you’ve said about him to y’friends?”
Jesus Christ. A part of you melts at his words. He is watching you like a hawk, gauging your every little reaction. But you’re clinging to any part of you that’s trying to keep this from heading in that direction. Even though you know it’s not because you don’t want to.
“We really shouldn’t… H.” You state, voice almost shaking with an unspoken need. One that you’re trying to keep from bursting through the seams.
“Why not, Y/N?” He asks, making it sound like a challenge. Causing him to be met with a quick jump in your voice.
You are pulling at every part of your strength right now to justify why this is a terrible idea.
“Because, Harry. I am a fucking fangirl for you. Not in a casual way either, like bordering a little bit insane! It’s horrifying, and very embarrassing! And this is a horrible idea, because I don’t think you understand the kind of—“ You don’t get to finish whatever you were about to say, because he kisses you. With his all.
It feels like he pours every once of his being into it. The way his smooth lips press into your own, fuelled by a heat that is felt in the very pit of your stomach. Your knees almost buckle at the sensation.
You grab his shoulder to stabilise yourself. And your lungs are already drawn of all their air.
In actuality, it mustn’t have lasted very long— maybe a couple seconds— before he pushes the back of your knees against the bed, forcing you to sit down.
He draws in a breath after you seperate, “I don’t care if you have photos of me on your fucking bedroom walls, baby.”
“Could not care less, look at you.” He leans down now, kissing over your lips again in separate, doting pecks, “y’so gorgeous, and genuine. I love that you love what I do.”
You’re in a bit of shock, looking up at him with widened eyes. Because obviously you’ve imagined kissing him before. Probably a thousand times. And that dream has somehow sprung to fruition.
How exactly? you’re still unsure.
“I— Harry.” You say, with no real purpose, clutching onto his broad shoulders.
The way you whine out his name drives him almost insane, and he drops down onto his knees between your spread legs. Giving him easier access to kiss your mouth.
His hands snake around your waist, and he lets his lips slot back over yours.
You loose yourself in the act, your own fingers skating up his back and into the hair at the nape of his neck.
It’s so fucking soft. And you use it to press his face closer to yours. He’s surprised when you’re the one to part your lips and dart your tongue out first.
Skating along his pink bottom lip as an invitation.
He accepts it happily, clutching at your waist while he lets his tongue dip into the heat of your mouth. You can’t help but groan at the sensation, and feel the warmth start to gather between your thighs.
He was kissing you like a starved man. And slowly everything you knew started slipping from the forefront of you mind. All you could feel and focus on was him.
How his muscly frame filled up your senses—and the area between your knees— paired with the glide of his tongue over your teeth.
—((sexual content from here and onwards))
His hands tracing over several parts of your body, even going to pull you closer with his hands cupping your bottom. Squeezing at the swell of your ass playfully.
You bite your teeth down onto his lip and drag it backwards, eliciting a moan from the back of his throat.
Your hips push forward, brushing the front of your shorts on his torso, causing his jaw to go lax.
The two of you seperate for air, panting, and his eyes veer south, looking at where you’re pressed against him.
“Fuckin’ Christ. Look at you, needy little thing.”
You bury your head into his neck, kissing along his sharp jawline. Unable to control your slowly circling hips.
“So, y’willing to share what it is you wanted to do to me yet? Given that you’re practically grinding on m’chest.”
You hum a maybe, and he lets out a deep laugh.
“After Barcelona,” You start, and he works to coax the answer out of you with his hands and lips.
“Mmhm…” he acknowledges, mouthing against your clavicle.
“You had looked so good that night… and I got a little tipsy after the show, back at our BNB.”
“You were in those low rise black pants, and that tiny cropped vest. And my god— i said to all the girls that if you were down, I would happily let you take me. Anyway you wanted.”
“Anyway?” His hoarse voice asks.
“Anyway. Fingers, tongue... cock.”
At the first mention of something genuinely sexual, he almost looses it. Envisioning your spread legs with his head pressed between them.
“But I didn’t just say that because I was tipsy. Or because of the outfit you wore.” You allude quietly.
He can’t wait another second before he’s pressing his already swollen lips back against yours. And hard.
“Want everything off you.” He fists at your boob-tube.
Your body is hotter than a thousand suns, and your need for him is literally tearing through you.
It’s clear this was your tipping point. There was no going back to something casual and platonic. The way your whole body ached to have him was unfathomable.
“Strip me.” You beg, arms lifting so he can tug the thin black material over your head, leaving your breasts in a strapless bra.
He runs his tongue over the exposed skin, hands sliding to the clasp at your back to get it off you.
He moans aloud once he sees you, briefly recalling the times his gaze has dipped to your cleavage in those little sundresses you wore while you were out together, and how he would always be wishing for a moment like this.
He laves his tongue over your nipple, before quickly occupying himself with the button of your shorts.
“These off too?” He confirms, voice gravelly with want.
Hastily, you nod, “Yes, all of it.”
Your sheer eagerness is turning him on even more. You always seemed a tiny bit reserved, so hearing you beg for your clothes to get torn off…
“Ass up,” he asks, watching as you lift it from the bed so he can tug the shorts from your waist and down your legs.
Left in nothing but your underwear, he slides his hand over your front to see how wet you were.
You moan as his fingers brush over your clothed-clit. And you notice now that your arousal has wet through your panties.
“Fucking hell. You realise you’re absolutely drenched, right baby?” He near moans, rubbing a gentle circle over the fabric.
“I—shit— I’m sorry, didn’t think I’d gotten so…” You’re almost a little embarrassed at the amount of arousal between your legs.
He hooks his fingers into the crotch of your underwear, peeling them down your thighs.
Your bare cunt had him almost light headed. You were genuinely glistening, and your slick had already spread to the hood of your clit.
“Darling don’t be sorry. Y’got the prettiest little pussy. Cant believe you’re this wet.”
“What did it for you, huh?” He asks finger running through you, eliciting a groan from both your throats.
In a pleasure-filled haze, you slur out a reply, “You. Just all of you.”
You squirm under his featherlight caress, and take a moment to watch him gaze at you. There is nothing but this look of admiration and desire in his eyes.
“Wanna see you, Harry.” You plea, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
He waits not a second to slip it over his head, and your hands immediately run down his torso. Staying quiet as he lets you indulge.
This is something you have thought of in a million different ways. His chest is built like that of a Greek gods, and his tattoos are an added bonus.
You feel the ridges of his abs under your fingertips, and you trace over the butterfly tattoo as well.
His breath flutters in and out of his nose. But using your hands doesn’t satiate you.
You need him on your tongue.
“Stand up.” You ask, and he doesn’t question you, he just obliges.
You keep him stood between your bare legs, but lean your neck inwards, tongue jutting out to run a solid strip up his stomach.
A rumble comes from him, akin to a growl as you move to of his pecs. Gliding your tongue over the hair-dusted flesh, and enveloping his own nipple into your mouth.
You’d never done this before, since sucking on a guys nipple is less of a commodity… but the reaction it works out of him is perfect.
The way he throws his head back, sharp jaw tilted to the celling, and hair falling from his forehead.
“Oh… oh god.”
You draw back, grabbing his shorts and pushing them down. Kissing both the laurels that sit atop his hips before cupping your hand over his bulge, covered by black Calvin Klein briefs.
“Can I take you out, please?”
“Such nice manners, good girl.”
Good girl. The words float around in your head, and something else inside of you comes undone.
Not sure if it was your self respect… or some other part of your morals. But you could go feral simply over those two words.
You bite down on your lip as you tug the briefs down, watching his cock slip up.
Lord.
You almost salivate. It’s perfect in every way you’d want it to be. A flushed red tip, dotted with beads of pre-cum. And of course it’s big.
For an already perfect man, it’s hard to believe you can strip him completely, and still not find a single flaw.
“Staring pretty hard… you a little intimated?”
“It’s big.” You state, hand coming to wrap around its thick base. “Want it in me.”
He leans down, picking you up by your thighs. You laugh in reaction, him manhandling you into the centre of your still unmade bed.
There was a sense of intimacy that was being shared as he pulled you forward, so you were straddling his hips.
Both of you leaned forward to lock lips, kissing feverishly as you touched over every inch of skin you could. Eventually, both of your hands falling between the others legs.
You stroked over him, and he careful slid his middle finger into you.
He worked you until you were near dripping down his hand, and were scraping your nails along his shoulders.
“Harry— need you…” you beg.
“Want me to take you right now?” He asks, cock throbbing in your hand.
“Yes. I can handle it. Promise. I’m clean and on birth control if you wanna go bare.”
“Only if you’re sure. I trust you.”
“I am… just want to feel you.” You plead.
“Need you to tell me how y’want it first, pretty.” He coos, curling his finger inside you.
You moan in response, and he slides it out shortly after so he regains your attention.
“I—“ you stutter, now feeling empty, “anyway you want, I said that earlier.”
“No, baby, how do you like it?” He asks again, smiling against your skin.
“Anything, hard or gentle, I’ll come either way. Look at you— as if I wouldn’t.”
He pulls your core to his, rubbing the tip against your slick hole, “Then tell me as we go how you’re doing, and what you want or need okay. Want you to feel really good, m’kay?”
You nod, and he starts to sink into you, already pulling a moan from your lips at the stretch.
He on the other hand struggles to hold himself together as your warm walls part for him.
“Fuck, fuck… you’re so tight, Y/N.” He groans, pulling you down nearly all the way— stopping before he reaches the base of his cock, taking a moment to adjust so he doesn’t come before he’s all the way in.
“Mm-“ you whine out, nails digging into the warm muscle on his back, “Harry…”
Once he’s composed himself, he lets your hips sink the down to the base of him. You both take a moment to feel it. Panting, because the heat and the connection you’re both sharing is only describable as euphoric.
“Y’okay?” He sighs out, clutching your waist with firm hands.
“Yes… so fuckin’ full.” You moan out, hole fluttering around his length.
He carefully draws his hips back, pulling out a little only to push it back in.
Just that small movement has you reeling. And you’re quick to realise that this is probably going to be the best sex you’ve ever fucking had.
“Look at that, your cunt swallowing me up. So fuckin’ hot.” He whispers, slowly starting to pick up the pace.
His fingers move to play with your clit, and he notices the reaction that courses through your body the second he rolls it between his fingers.
You buck your hips against him, and he brings his lips down to suck on the side of your breast.
“Mark me.” You encourage, wanting him to leave you with bruises from his mouth.
“Dirty thing,” he moans, fucking up into you, “so fucking wet too. All f’me isn’t it?”
The dirty talk causes you to clench around him, and he picks up on it.
“Jesus, you really are? Like when I say dirty stuff too, clearly.” He grunts.
“Yes, fuck! Please touch me.” You ask, needing to feel more of him, to the point it consumes your senses.
He touches you almost everywhere, with his hands, lips, tongue. All over your body until you genuinely can’t think of anything else.
It leaves your body shaking, and he can tell you’re not going to last much longer going by the clenching of your cunt.
“I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing around me like tha’.” He curses, keeping a fast pace with his hips as you feel the beginning of your high approaching.
It starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach, “God— you’re so deep.”
“Yea, love? Feel me all the way up here?” He splayed his hand on your lower abdomen and you nod.
“Gonna come soon… please.” Your thighs are going weak from trying to hold your body up, and he notices, flipping you around so he’s on top of you.
The new angle has you biting down on your palm to try and stop yourself from crying out.
“Taking it so well. M’not far off either, baby.” He groans, his thrusts faltering as he bottoms out.
He pushes two fingers past your lips, allowing your tongue to swirl over them before he is removing them. Taking them down to rub over your swollen clit.
The added stimulation is what’s going to tip you over the edge.
“H—fuck—Harry! I’m gonna come!” You moan out, nails scraping down his bicep.
“Good fucking girl,” he prompts, fingers flicking over your clit, “let it all go for me, gush all over my cock.”
His words send you spiralling. And they’re the final push you need before your cunt clamps down around him with a loud moan tearing out of you.
“Fuckfuckfuck!” You’re writhing around him, and he curses at how tight you’re clenching him.
“That’s it, keep fucking going— ride it out on me.” He hisses, hips finally faltering as he feels his cock come inside of you.
Twitching between your warm walls as his stomach muscles contract and ripple with the intensity of his release.
He near buckles on top of you, his body weight pressing against you. And The two of you are panting, still shivering out slight aftershocks of your orgasms.
His forehead rests against yours, and you lean forward to brush a kiss against his parted lips.
Gently, he pulls himself out. A tiny hiss coming from his lips at the sensitivity.
He rolls over, bringing you to lay down on top of him. And you feel the partial heaving of his damp chest below you.
“Thank you…” You mumble out, sounding almost shy.
He picks up on it, “Don’t sound so nervous, darling. Y’were amazing.”
This brings a smile across your lips. It’s safe to assume that maybe things around you are complicated. But actually between the two of you, it’s anything but.
You like him, so much. So you just say it.
“I like you, Harry.”
And he affirms your statement with a kiss to your temple, and says quietly, “I like you too, Y/N. A lot.”
And this feels like an unspoken agreement that maybe the media is only going to get more riled up about the two of you as time goes on, but what you have is something genuinely worth fighting for.
Plus… they already know so, what’s the worse that could really happen now?
———
that was a long one!! hope you all loved it, and thank you so much for the support on this series. and don’t worry, you will definitely still be seeing more of them in the future. 🤍
taglist:
@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18 @laurxn-robinson @kkr102 @superlegend216 @jerseygirlinca @cherrysulewski
+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles fanfiction#fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles oneshot#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles writing#harry styles series#welcome to the final show#harry styles one shot#famous!harry#fangirl! y/n#harrystyles smut#famous harry#fanfic#love on tour#hslot
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