#yes the skirt is reposted. mind your business

[ef-1]

late stage coquettism

#fuck capitalism and definitely death to macdonalds but as a pescatarian with a predominantly plant based diet- #macdonald's fish fillet has saved my life 70 times every year since i was 17 #hot girls know #yes the skirt is reposted. mind your business

[creative-crybaby]

A Show of Gratitude

PAIRING: timeskip!Miya Osamu x fem!reader

GENRE: wee bit of angst/comfort | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: nipple play, light manhandling, masturbation (m and f), fingering, oral (f receiving), cum eating, praise kink, size kink (kind of)

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 7.1k

SUMMARY: As a thank you for shining a spotlight on Onigiri Miya, Osamu invites you over for dinner (and dessert). All characters are 18+

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

Osamu raises a brow at you, though more out of amusement than cynicism. It suits him even, the somewhat teasing lift complimenting the blank expression he usually carries. His lips form a subtle pout—it’s cute, you think. It sends heat to your face, and you clear your throat before smoothing down your skirt. Who knew someone with a large build and resting neutral face could juxtapose all of that with a miniature shift in expression—

It’s been quiet for too long, you realize. 

“I’ve only tried a handful of things on your menu,” you begin with a stammer, “but I still plan on trying some of the other stuff to add some suggestions for the readers. Plus, if you don’t mind, I could interview you. I’m sure you’re busy with getting everything in line, so whenever works for you works for me. You’ve only recently opened up your shop, so I’m sure me writing a piece on it could gain some attention, and—”

“Sure,” Osamu says, adjusting his cap. Your mouth snaps shut, the warmth returning, setting fire to your face as you wish nothing more than for the ceiling to crash down on you. “I already figured it’d help the shop, but I’m not too sure when I’ll be available for an interview.” He pulls his phone out from his back pocket and holds it toward you. “If yer fine with giving me yer number, I can message ya when I’m free.”

Your focus seems to care more about his Kansai dialect than his words, and you blink that pulling magnet away.

“Right, yes,” you reply as you hastily take his phone and add your number to his contacts. Your hands find each other as soon as you return the device to the handsome shop owner, twiddling thumbs dancing an anxiety-induced tango. 

“Great,” Osamu nods curtly. It doesn’t help when he glances down at his screen, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards. His hooded eyes meeting yours seem to glue your feet to the ground as your knees threaten to buckle. “Ya should hear from me soon. Thanks, (L/N).”

With a mix between a nod and a bow, you leave in a hurry, teeth digging into your bottom lip to block the embarrassed squeal trying to come out. 

Most would know to introduce themselves first, regardless of their profession (or lack thereof). You know this. You have done so before. But not every potential interviewee you’ve met has broad shoulders to dig your nails into or large biceps that you wouldn’t mind holding you in a chokehold or pecs that could replace both of your pillows or a slutty little waist—

Professional, you call yourself. Bullshit.

But it’s a little too late to go back and delete your contact information from his phone. Your blog, a little something you do on the side, consists of new spots in your area you’d recommend your viewers to check out. Onigiri Miya opened not that long ago, and after finishing your umeboshi (and then ordering the tenmusu, katsuobushi, tarako—you get it), your stomach achingly sent your brain the message that the shop needed more recognition. 

You only caught sight of him after you asked one of the very few employees to fetch you the owner. Tired of making you more food than your wallet would appreciate, they offered a nod before heading to the back and returning with a towering figure dressed in all black, the uniform tee doing its best to remain in one piece as it hugs his body.

You didn’t notice the rice grains stuck to your cheek until he casually pointed it out. The exchange between you two after that involved more ogling than conversing on your end. And you didn’t give him your name until he gave you his phone. 

Dumbass.

All of this replays in your head as you attempt to come up with questions for him. And if you manage to shake the embarrassment away, you wonder if you’ll be able to avoid making a fool out of yourself when you interview him. 

Your eyes trail down to your phone on your desk. You could apologize for your behaviour, telling the ravenette something about having a lot on your plate that wasn’t his food. Maybe you should make up some excuse to back out before leaving the country with a completely new identity. 

These anxieties disappear like a popped bubble when the soft vibrating of your phone interrupts your spiralling thoughts. Fumbling to grab the device, you turn it on to see you’ve gotten a text from an unknown number.

Unknown until the message lets you know it’s the handsome shop owner from earlier that day (not verbatim, of course). With your heart in your stomach and throat at once, your thumbs do a jig above the keypad as you try to come up with an answer. You didn’t have to, at least not yet, as the ellipses appear on his end, and he gives you a time and day to interview him. 

After agreeing with him (and using too many exclamation points), you exchange your goodbyes. 

Those interview questions can wait: you need to scream into the void. A pillow will do, you suppose.

“For the love of God, do not make a fool out of yourself.”

You stand before Onigiri Miya’s entrance, muttering and clutching your notepad for dear life. Convincing yourself that being several minutes early was necessary resulted in you showing up about half an hour before the planned meetup. Waiting outside with your eyes glued to what’s visible of its interior makes you feel like a stalker. Truth be told, you want to see him again, catch his accent again, taste his food again, have his eyes bore into your nervous frame again—

“Yer early.”

A shriek almost escapes your throat at the voice, and your head snaps to follow the familiar sound. Osamu pokes his top half from around the shop's corner, lips pursed and brows slightly raised in curiosity.

“Ah, Miya!” You stammer, straightening your posture and adjusting your notepad. “Hi! I–uh, I know I’m sort of early. I guess I thought I’d take more time getting ready this morning than I actually did.”

The smile you offer him is supposed to be an easy-going one. Though, it’s difficult being convincing when your bottom lip occasionally wobbles and the corners of your mouth twitch at every pause. Some excuse, really: he probably doesn’t believe you. You don’t believe you. 

Regardless, he nods. “Sorry for scarin’ ya. I was just takin’ care of some stuff out back. Feel free to come in. Might as well start early, if yer fine with it.”

You mumble a soft verbal agreement, too afraid your voice will betray you should you say anything more. Osamu approaches the entrance to his shop, waiting for you to enter first. With a deep breath, you do so, the owner following you soon after. 

It seems that the gods were on your side, even if momentarily. The interview went as well as any other one, with the exception of your not-so-subtle ogling. He’d tell you about his love for food and how he realized his passion for it over volleyball, as well as his relationship with his twin. Every bit of information you’d get, you’d fit perfectly into a mental draft, ready to type it all once you got home. Even so, your genuine curiosity didn’t shy away as he shared his story, admiring his dedication and pleased to hear about the support he received. 

When everything is finished, you exchange your thanks and let him know when the piece should be ready. 

“Feel free to message me if you have any questions,” you tell him as you both make your way to the exit. 

Osamu nods, offering you a half-smile that’s still enough to fluster you. “Will do. Thanks again, this could really help ma shop.”

You returning his expression with an even wider grin is only natural with the flattery he throws your way. While one of your hands subconsciously picks at the strap of your bag, the other waves him off. “Well, let me publish the piece before you go saying all of that.”

“Nah,” he hums, adjusting his cap. “I read some of yer work to see what I was gettin’ m’self into. Yer gonna do this place proud, no doubt.”

Your shoes become your source of interest. You can’t let the ravenette see how his words affect you: not unless you want the poor man to call the ambulance. Two sentences had your heart trying desperately to claw its way out of your chest, pounding in your ears and face melting from the heat. 

Still, when you straighten your back and look at him, you give him a smile and a nod. “That means a lot, thank you.”

Oh, look at that: you’re getting better at this. 

Osamu copies your actions. “Yer blog just got a new fan. Keep up the good work.”

Nevermind. You need to leave. Like, now.

The next time you show up to Onigiri Miya is about a week after you publish your piece on it. 

After doing everything in your power to not embarrass yourself, you found the writing process to be the easiest part of the entire process. Not only because you had more than enough information at your disposal, but you also got to isolate yourself in your apartment, free from distractions and attractive shop owners. Being honest about the well-prepared food and best recommendation depending on one’s tastes came easy when you tried a good portion of the menu; of course, you would do the place justice. (And, of course, you made sure you weren’t kissing too much ass in your piece during your editing process.)

Despite the shop being far busier than when you first arrived, your eye catches its owner before anything else. Behind the counter, Osamu sports Onigiri Miya’s uniform as he prepares an order, large hands moulding rice into a triangular shape with precision that shows his experience. It’s a silly detail to catch, but after the interview (and the countless ones before that), you know better than to dismiss their work as “just food.”

Your feet carry you to where the ravenette works his magic, and you’re about halfway there when he notices you. 

“Ah, (L/N),” he greets, offering a half-smile as you settle onto a stool. 

“You seem busy,” you quip lightly, trying to return his energy. At the very least, you deserve points for eye contact and not letting your voice waver. 

Osamu’s smile morphs into a smirk as he momentarily looks away to wrap the nori around the neatly-shaped rice ball. “All thanks t’ya.”

His words have you taking in your surroundings, barely having done so when you entered the shop. It’s more or less packed, for sure, the stool you’re sitting on being one of, if not the only vacant spot for you to take. A variety of customers flood the interior, with some more peeking in from the outside: a group of high school girls seated in the corner, giggling about god knows what, a mother and her son sitting only a few seats away from your spot, a few men in suits sitting by the windows seemingly gaining energy from their food. Not a lot of people you would assume to read your blog, though you wouldn’t exactly say you had a target audience in mind based on age or gender. Regardless, the compliment feels far-fetched, somewhat undeserving. 

You turn back to face him. “You’re too nice.”

“I dis’gree,” he counters nonchalantly. “I read yer work. You did this place proud.”

Heat returns to your face; if you didn’t know better, you’d assume you were getting sick. 

“My blog is just a little something I do on the side for fun,” you explain. “It’s not famous or anything. Besides, you’re the one making the food here. Give yourself some credit.”

Osamu finishes the last rice ball before placing it on a rectangular plate, and an employee–a new one, you presume–takes it to bring it to a young couple sitting near the entrance. 

“I do make some pretty good food,” he muses, removing his cap to wipe his forehead with his forearm.

“That’s what I’m saying,” you chuckle. “If I’m not careful, my diet might solely consist of your onigiri.”

The ravenette huffs a laugh, wiping his hands with the white cloth on his shoulder before resting his arms on the counter and leaning closer to you. “I’m not just talking about rice balls.”

An innocent correction, really. But with the small distance between you two and how his voice dropped an octave, your palms growing clammy as you gulp deeply is beyond your control. 

Your fingers instinctively return to fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you attempt to find your composure. “I don’t doubt it.”

The former wing spiker pulls away with a satisfied smirk. “Great. I’ll cook for ya.”

You blink in confusion, brows slightly furrowed. “Huh?”

“Consider it a thanks for writin’ about ma shop,” Osamu explains as he gets back to working on another order. “Lemme make ya a nice meal. Not sure when it won’t be busy in the upcomin’ week, but I’ll let ya know and plan ahead.”

You don’t fully process his offer until he draws his attention to a customer. The scream that threatens to explode from your throat gets swallowed in time before you make a fool of yourself. He’s just returning the favour… to your favour… which isn’t how it works, but you’re certain he’s just being friendly. He loves food, and from what he’s seen from your blog, he knows you’re in the same boat as him. And with the soft yet genuine smile he gives to each customer he greets as they enter or as he prepares their orders, it’s tough to convince yourself his offer is anything more than one out of kindness. A tad disappointing, but it should ease your nerves for when the time comes. 

“All right,” you grin shyly. “I’ll take you up for it.”

Osamu pauses from wrapping the rice around the pickled plums to face you. He beams, quickly finishing his current rice ball to place away before returning to you. 

“Perfect,” he almost chirps before checking on the rice cooker next to him. “How ‘bout I make ya somethin now? Ya liked the tenmusu best, yeah?” Surprised he remembered your favourite, probably from your blog, you nod bashfully. “Great, it’s on the house.”

He winks at you before drawing his focus to your order. If you weren’t sitting down, your knees would’ve failed you.

Oh, you think, subconsciously smoothing down the skirt of your dress. You’re doing this. 

Indeed, you are. And you showed up at a reasonable time (by that, you actually got there early and decided to drive around the neighbourhood for a bit until it was appropriate to park and enter the apartment complex). 

It took a few days before Osamu finally texted you, letting you know when he’d be able to close up shop early to have you over. Since then, you’d keep your phone on you or nearby more often than usual, every single notification catching your attention. You almost don’t care how quickly you responded, letting him know the time and day would work for you without even checking your own schedule to confirm. (You did so afterwards: you’re good, honey.)

Getting ready seemed to surpass all that on an anxiety-inducing level, you’re pretty sure. Dinner at his place sounds like a date, yes. But he never said it was a date. You can only interpret so many social cues, and trying to recall his body language and tone as you raid your closet for something appropriate to wear does no good to your sanity. You settled for a floral summer dress in the end; not the best for the nearing autumn weather, though it’s nothing a jacket can’t fix. Words of encouragement don’t do much convincing on your end as you do your makeup and assure your reflection that it’s not too much, but it gives you something to focus on. 

Those same words of encouragement, while they do make you knock on his apartment door, don’t fill the action with the enthusiasm you desperately need. Though, before you can redo it for something louder, the door opens, and there stands Osamu at his entrance. 

“Hey,” he greets, a subtle upbeat in his tone. You’re not used to seeing him out of his uniform: the simple baby-blue button-down with rolled-up sleeves and black slacks combo on him does a number on you. Not a complete 180; he still appears in his element regarding comfort and accessibility for cooking. It doesn’t hurt that it hugs his torso and arms deliciously. And without his cap, you get a clearer view of his face. A full head of dark hair swept to his left, and his eyes, while a greyish colour, still carry an enticing glimmer you struggle to look away from. “Yer just in time. Food’s gonna be ready in a few minutes.”

Osamu moves aside to let you in. His home seems cozy, you think upon entering. Maybe less clean and more empty; a couple of couches and a coffee table with nothing but a tissue box on it, plus a dining table with four chairs. The kitchen seems to have most of the attention, not that it surprises you. It all makes sense for someone living by himself. He probably lives at his shop, you figure. This place is just a backup.

You thank him when he offers to take your jacket after you remove your heels.

“Ya look lovely, by the way.” His tone remains its usual steady tone, and you almost think he’s telling you what’s on TV. He’s glancing over his shoulder and placing your jacket in his closet as he tells you this, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and adding sincerity to his otherwise flat manner. 

“Oh,” your eyes struggle to meet his in fear of showing how much his words affected you. “Thank you. You look handsome as well.”

You don’t get to scold yourself for sounding ridiculous because Osamu tells you to follow him to sit at the table. A deep breath: calm down, enjoy yourself, don’t stare at his ass–not even a glance, damn it!–and follow him.

The table seems mostly ready, with dishes splayed across it carrying a variety of fresh food. A traditional Japanese dinner: nothing fancy, though with the intimacy of having dinner with a handsome acquaintance (client? Either way, handsome), you’re not complaining. 

“Hope this is all right with ya,” Osamu says from the kitchen. “Wanted to surprise ya with something ya’d like, but from yer writings, ya don’t seem like much of a picky eater.”

You shake your head, only to stop when you remember his back is to you. “It looks great, really. If it’s you making it, I’ll gladly eat all of it.”

He turns around with the last couple of dishes in his hands, a smile plastered on his face. 

“Means a lot t’hear that,” he hums, placing the teriyaki salmon with the rest of the bowls. Once he’s settled in his spot, you both give your thanks for the meal and dig in. You don’t hesitate to grab whatever your chopsticks soar towards, from the goma-ae to a generous chunk of salmon. Only when your mouth is full do you remember you aren’t alone, and your eyes slowly trail up to meet a grey pair. Osamu’s in no better condition than you, his bowl of rice half done with a couple of drops of soy sauce stuck near the corner of his lips. Even with his natural resting face, the stark contrast between his cheeks full of food with the hint of amusement in his gaze is nothing short of adorable. “Keep eatin’ like that an’ yer gonna choke.”

You swallow in one large gulp, much to your esophagus’ dismay. “Not my fault you make good food.”

Osamu chuckles. “Gonna add my home cooking to yer blog?”

You immediately shake your head. “I’m keeping this for myself, thank you.”

“Oh, so you want me to make you food more often?”

Your eyes gradually widen at his words, your hand mindlessly twiddling with your chopsticks. Your gaze switches from the dishes on the table to your date, who doesn’t keep his eyes off you as he continues eating his food. Even with his cheeks stuffed with food, he sports a smirk, one you don’t miss. 

You clear your throat before offering a nervous laugh. “Don’t put words into my mouth.”

He swallows down his bite. “So, no dessert afterwards, then?”

“I never said that,” you pout. “You’re enjoying teasing me a little too much, Miya.”

“Osamu.”

You stop yourself from bringing your glass to your lips, giving him a puzzled expression. “Hm?”

“I invited ya to ma home for dinner,” he states in between a large bite of the salmon. “No need ta be so formal with me.”

Several moments of silence are followed by you sounding out each syllable of his name to yourself. You suppose he makes a good point, though the intimacy that replaces the formality makes you fidget in your seat. If Osamu notices, he doesn’t comment. 

You meet his gaze. “You do the same for me, then.”

He smiles. “Deal.”

A natural conversation flows from thereon, from you explaining how your blog came to be to him sharing embarrassing stories about his twin. Even with each tale carrying a complaint about his brother’s behaviour, you don’t miss the fondness in the ravenette’s tone as he recalls the memories. He’s seemingly the calmer one of the two, yet he doesn’t fail to make you giggle at the expense of his counterpart. (“Don’t worry, ya can laugh,” he tells you when he catches you biting your lip.) The laughter soon evolves to commentary and jokes and entertaining stories of your own, and you don’t even realize how much more relaxed you are until you’ve both finished everything from your bowls. 

You exhale in satisfaction, placing a hand on your belly. “If I were rich, I’d hire you as my personal chef.”

Osamu smiles, picking up some of the bowls and motioning for you to sit back down when you move to follow his actions. “I’d gladly take the job.”

You feel guilty as you watch him move back and forth to clean up, but with every shake of his head, you find yourself obeying and keeping yourself glued to your chair.

“Because I’m your favourite customer, right?” you quip as a distraction. 

“That,” he takes both your cups, “and ‘cause ya’d be rich.”

Your date peeks over his shoulder to find you fidgeting with your fingers under the table. He hears you nervously chuckle when he returns to focus on cleaning the dishes. 

“So, does your brother know you use him to impress your dates?” The inquiry was more of a joke than anything else, but Osamu catches a detail you don’t seem to realize you added. 

“We’re on a date now, are we?” he muses.

Silence; it puts a smirk on his face. Seeing your reaction is more than tempting, but so is dragging out the tension. The former wing spiker doesn’t remember the last time he enjoyed teasing someone like this (aside from his brother, but that’s more taunting than anything else).

He only glances over his shoulder once more when he hears you pull your chair back. You stand next to the table, seemingly wondering if you should approach him or not. Osamu has to hold back his grin. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” you state, glad your voice doesn’t wobble. 

“Ya didn’t answer mine,” he counters not a moment later, though the humour in his tone is evident enough. Your date turns off the faucet before removing the rubber gloves from his hands, plopping them onto the kitchen counter before striding towards you. He catches you clench your jaw, but you don’t budge. “Got a pretty sharp tongue on ya for someone so nervous not that long ago.”

You subconsciously straighten your posture as you inhale sharply. “Not gonna finish cleaning up? You were pretty insistent on taking care of things by yourself.”

He stops a foot away from you. “Nothing I can’t deal with later.”

His dark eyes bore into yours, though you’d hardly call it a staring contest. Not when your gaze would occasionally flicker down to his lips. Of course, nothing he misses. 

Another step forward. He places his index finger under your chin. 

Another step forward. He tilts your head up ever so slightly. 

Another step forward. He leans in, stopping mere inches away from your face.

No more steps for him to take. You barely catch the sound of the faucet dripping the occasional water droplet over your heart echoing in your ears. Can he hear it, too?

None of that matters as he takes your statuesque frame as a sign to pull away. You panic; grabbing onto his shirt, you yank him towards you to meet your mouth with his.

The subtle taste of dinner lingers on his tongue, not that you can complain. Your hands find their place on his cheeks while his own wander down to your waist. A lazy hum of satisfaction buzzes out from his throat, leaving a light tingle on your lips and causing your heart to pound in your ears. 

You pull away for air and from the shock of what just happened, your wide eyes meeting a droopy, lust-filled grey pair. 

“Look at ya,” Osamu pants, one of his hands sliding down to your thigh. “Yer real cute, ya know that? Couldn’t stop thinking about kissin’ ya for days now.”

Your lids fall to match his expression while your thumb mindlessly caresses his face. Your mind speaks before you can stop it. “Just kissing?”

That familiar glimmer returns in his gaze, and he gently squeezes your thigh. There’s a pull coming from his hold; nothing forceful, just light enough to give you a chance to withdraw. With little-to-no room left between you, you can only press your chest against his. 

“I’ve got a few other things in mind,” he hums as if pondering. “Wanna give 'em a try?”

You nod absentmindedly, your hands sliding down to wrap around his neck and play with his hair. “Please.”

His lips curl into a satisfied smirk before they reattach themselves to yours. He’s got you mewling in a matter of seconds, your fingers swirling around his locks and occasionally tugging them. Osamu groans, lightly grinding against you and making you gasp. 

The hand on your thigh disappears to slide your dress straps off your shoulders, and the ravenette pulls away to tug the top of your number down to expose your breasts. His mouth attaches itself to one of your nipples while his fingers tweak at the other bud, further drenching your underwear while your grip on his hair tightens. Your body feels hot, your hips rubbing against his bulge in desperation. You draw a blank, wanting to enjoy every second, but being all over the place. And you’ve only started. 

It’s when he eventually pulls away to remove your dress do you realize this is actually happening. The fabric drops to your feet, leaving you in ruined panties, and the cool air does little to fight the heat you feel all over. Large hands, roughened from years of volleyball, carefully hold you up to place you on the table, taking their time moving away from your exposed body. Those same eyes that seemingly hang in a drooping shape with indifference now do so in a hunger that has you subconsciously clenching your thighs. 

“Fuck,” Osamu rasps deeply, eyes never leaving your frame as he hurriedly unbuttons his shirt and throws it aside. You’re blessed with the sight of ripples and valleys of soft skin over hard muscles with small clans of stretch marks highlighting his upper arms and what little you can see of his hips. His belt disbands with a clink, and he’s panting when he removes his slacks. “D’ya have any idea whatcha’ do ta me?”

The Kansai in him seems to shine through when he gets needy; that thought flies through your head, barely giving you time to process it. You don’t care to, not when your date approaches you once more to hook his fingers past the waistband of your underwear. His gaze peers up at you, starving, but patient enough to check on you. Your response is the rising of your hips, allowing him to slide the flimsy material down your trembling legs. 

Why are they doing that? Nothing you haven’t done before. Not something you do often, either. The last time you had sex was in… college? Last year of college. Yeah, with some guy in one of your classes. His pace wasn’t all that different from this one right now. You refrain from showing your displeasure when you recall how he thought penetration alone was enough to get the job done. (It was, just not for you.)

Why these memories are choosing to return, you don’t know. Maybe you feel out of practice, or because it’ll all be over before you know it, and the handsome shop owner who made the best onigiri you’ve ever tasted will probably just be that and nothing more after this. That latter possibility makes your stomach plummet, and you bite your lip. It’s just dinner. Dinner with a crush. Most of what you know about him came from an interview. 

You catch yourself looking at him when you realize he has yet to make a move. 

At first, you feared it was due to disgust. It isn’t until you find him zeroing in on your dripping cunt like a man starved does your body relax a bit. His calloused hands grab hold of your thighs, lightly squeezing their fat as he drops to his knees. 

“Gonna take care of ya,” Osamu mutters, seemingly more to himself than you, before swiping his tongue across his bottom lip and leaning in. “Gonna take real good care of ya.”

Settling your thighs onto his broad shoulder, the ravenette then licks a long, slow stripe up your cunt, tasting your essence and flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit. You exhale shakily, which is enough encouragement for your date to proceed with his ministrations. 

“‘Samu,” you whisper, your fingers returning to his charcoal locks as his tongue’s movements against your clit increase in speed. You’re rewarded with a groan as you buck your hips into his face, and his hold on your upper thighs grows stronger to keep you grounded. With the added stability, you bring one of your hands to tweak at your nipple, adding to the pleasure and making you mewl. 

Your eyes are fluttering closed until you feel Osamu’s tongue move to thrust into your cunt. You squirm in your spot with a gasp, eyes snapping open before your head drops to face the culprit. Pools of lust for irises greet you in a hazy connection, having been zeroed in on your expressions since their owner got his first taste of your essence. You’re already hot all over, head to toe, but the gaze you can’t look away from sets your face on fire—though that’s nothing new, now is it?

“Better than any meal I’ve ever had,” he mumbles against you before wrapping his lips around your puffy clit and suckling hard. Your head draws back as you wail, your hips failing to escape his grip no matter how much they writhe. That familiar build-up in your lower stomach makes itself known, causing you to whisper pleas and your date’s name repeatedly. He’s pressing his face further into your cunt, his mouth working overtime on your clit as your orgasm only hangs on by a thread.

And then, it’s gone. 

Your eyes–which were apparently closed–blink open as your brows knit together. Peering down, you see Osamu slip out from your hold on his hair, that same unbothered expression back on his handsome face (save for your slick coating his lips and chin, of course). 

“‘Samu!” you whine in frustration as you watch the ravenette stand up and brush the invisible dust off his knees. You don’t let his (very) noticeable bulge distract you from your stolen reward. “I was so close! What’re—”

He removes his boxers in one motion, letting them drop to the floor and wipe your brain clean of whatever you were about to ask him. Osamu observes you freeze from the sight of his girth, his face in its usual neutral stature while his gaze grows even heavier with lust and his chest and ego swelling with pride.

“Wanna make ya cum on ma cock,” he answers a little too casually, regardless of whether or not it actually answers your unspoken question. With his hand wrapped around his shaft, he swipes some of his precum, using it as lube as his focus lays on your naked form. “That all right with ya, princess?”

You nod mindlessly, your eyes never leaving his thick cock. Watching him touch himself, because of you no less, makes your hand wander south, gathering your essence and his spit before sliding a finger into your weeping hole. You shakily exhale as you catch his dick twitch, and it’s not long until you add another digit to massage your insides. 

It’s also not long until a much larger hand grabs your wrist to make you pull your fingers out. Being so focused on his lower half, you didn’t realize Osamu approached you once you started pleasuring yourself. He brings your hand, wet with your slick cascading down your palm, to his mouth, languidly licking up the mess while his eyes burn a hole into your very being. 

“As much as I enjoy the show,” he drawls, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, “I made ma intentions pretty clear. Unless ya suddenly changed yer mind, yer cumming on ma cock, doll.”

With that, he gently pushes your shoulder, making you lie on the table. Not exactly comfortable, but you consider it worth it as you watch Osamu position himself between your legs with his cock aimed at your entrance.

Time flies when you’re having fun, and while you were worried about this night ending far too soon, you can’t say the feelings are still there as the painful stretch consumes your body. You appreciate him taking his time for you, though it only makes the process all the more apparent: every ridge and vein making itself known as they leave their mark inside you. It isn’t until his hips meet yours do you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. 

He says your name, and you peer up at him while slowly propping yourself on your forearms. With gentle hands resting on the apex of your thighs, your date leans down you plant a kiss on your lips. You return the affection, feeling yourself relax a bit and noticing the subtle taste of you on his tongue. 

You find your head following his when he pulls away, earning you a chuckle before bringing one of his hands to your crotch. Collecting your slick, he then rubs slow, tight circles on your clit. Your hips buck, and you sigh, whimpering his name in gratitude. 

“You can move,” you utter. “Doesn’t hurt as much now.”

With a curt nod, Osamu grabs hold of your legs to wrap them around the small of his back. He thrusts gently, allowing you to accommodate and testing the waters to see what you like. You hum contently, though your eyes don’t seem to know where to look. Part of you wants to admire his face, but you worry about the intimacy behind the action. Marvelling at his physique, as fun as that would be, would probably make you drool; sex or no sex, you’d like to avoid that. Or, stare at where you two connect, but you’re certain you’d cum on the spot. You can’t do that. Was this always so difficult?

“Hey.” The ravenette glides his hands up and down your torso before finding their place on your breasts. “Easy. Want yer eyes on me, ‘kay? Wanna watch you fall apart.”

Your gaze shyly makes its way up to meet Osamu’s, his eyes soft while he smiles down at you. With a deep breath, you let him know he can pick up his pace. That smile of his widens as he complies, morphing your insides into the shape of his cock as he reaches deeper. The air is knocked out of your lungs, your voice choking up as you cry his name like a mantra. 

“‘Samu!” you wail, tightening your hold on his lower back. “Feels good! Feels so f-ucking good! Don’t stop!”

That glimmer flashes in his eyes as you beg for him, and Osamu swoops down to crash his lips onto yours. This kiss was more tongue than anything else, and you moan wantonly as you messily taste him. 

You’re hot. Everything is like touching a sizzling stove. The makeout session, the cock splitting you in half, the squelching from between your legs. There’s fog between your ears, far from clearing and presenting any sort of rationality as your date finds your sweet spot.

“There!” you pull away from him to shriek. “Keep fucking me like that! More, more!”

He can’t deny you when you plea like that, and he holds you in that position to ram into you the way you need him to. Your throat hurts from whatever noises claw out of it, though it doesn’t stop you from slurring “moremoremoremoremore” as your orgasm bubbles in your lower stomach. Or maybe all that begging is playing on a loop in your head? You don’t hear yourself; all you know of is the ecstasy between your thighs and Osamu stalking through the windows of your soul. Open for him in more ways than one. 

“‘M close,” he grunts, his movements becoming sloppy. “Ya cummin’, princess? Can ya do that for me? Make a mess on ma cock like a good girl?”

You nod before processing, but you consider it the right choice when he breathes out a laugh and changes his position to lean on his forearms. There are barely a few inches between you two, and he’s quick to fix that problem by kissing you once again. 

You’re squealing against his mouth when your orgasm finally hits you, your body stiff as you clamp down on his shaft. You feel heavy, rigid as your senses kick into overdrive, and you’re floating, vision grows spotty. Your head is thrown back out of necessity, your lungs in desperate need of oxygen, and Osamu’s presence alone is dizzying.

He’s still messily pounding into you once you’ve calmed down, and your legs shake against him from overstimulation. 

“Too much,” you whine, “too much! ‘Samu—”

“I know, doll,” he grunts. “I’ll be done soon. Promise, I’ll—”

He cuts himself off with a curse before hastily pulling out, wrapping a large hand around his cock and pumping until he cums on your stomach with a drawn-out groan. Through hazy vision and a complimenting puddle for a brain, you watch in awe as his jaw goes slack and eyes flutter shut with furrowed brows; he almost looks soft.

Now, you’re both spent, breathing matching in rhythm as you recall your surroundings. The first thing you notice is the pain in your lower back: sex on a wooden table will do that to you, you suppose. Worth it.

Then, you’re being picked up, your body limp like a ragdoll as you yelp from the sudden movement. “‘Samu!” 

The ravenette hums. “I’ve gotcha.”

Your arms, weak from carrying your weight, reach to wrap around his neck. All he does is sit on his chair with you on his lap, and he exhales.

“Is this what you meant by ‘dessert’?” you quip tiredly, leaning against him.

“Nah,” Osamu buzzes, rubbing your back soothingly. “I got somethin’ ready for after dinner, but this works, too.” You snicker weakly at his humorous tone at the end until it fades into a heavy silence. Not awkward, no, but relaxing doesn’t seem to quite fit the description, either. “It’s a date.”

You sit up too quickly, and you wince from soreness. Not that you could help yourself, what with his sudden comment. “Huh?”

“Tonight,” he clarifies, “I planned on it bein’ a date, since I think yer cute and ya helped me with ma shop—and don’t try ta argue otherwise. But with ya being so shy, I figured I’d let you decide, or maybe play into it if I thought ya were interested.” He pauses as if he were wondering what to say next. “All good if you weren’t lookin’ for that.”

You’ve never seen him blush before, and yet you find yourself regaining some energy when you catch the pink tint on his cheeks.

You giggle. “I think it’s a little late for that now.”

Osamu pulls you back into his embrace, burying his face into your neck. He tries to ignore the mess on your stomach pressed against his, though he couldn’t stop from wincing. “Guess so.”

More silence, though on the scale of comfort, it leans closer to a sense of ease.

“So,” you hum, “do you sleep with all your loyal customers or just the ones that’ll promote your business?”

Your date snorts, making the corners of your lips twitch upwards.

“Nobody else… yet.” He then pauses, pursing his lips as if to ponder. “Though ya just gave me a pretty good idea. Might help the business.”

You lightly slap his arm, earning a laugh from both of you. You try to sit up again, this time more slowly, and stretch. 

“We should probably clean up,” you remark, turning to look back at where you laid back and got your guts rearranged; it makes you shiver.

“I can deal with that later,” Osamu shrugs, shifting in his seat and looking down at the creamy white now on both of your torsos. “Let’s get ya cleaned up first.”

Your heart flutters as his tone softens, and when you look back at him, his eyes carry adoration. 

“And then dessert?” You ask sheepishly.

He smiles warmly. “And then dessert.”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

#fanfic #fanfiction #hq #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyu!! #smut #haikyuu x reader #inarizaki #miya osamu #osamu smut #osamu x reader #miya twins #onigiri miya #haikyuu smut

[rip-us-xoxo]

Unintentionally- George Weasley x Reader (REPOST)

Posted NOVEMBER 13, 2020

Reposted APRIL 16, 2023

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

Warnings- SMUT, degradation (it’s literally one line), dirty talk, swearing (if there are any more warnings please tell me and I’ll add them)

Enjoy!!!!

_______________________________

The joke shop has been really busy lately and you could tell. Your fiancé, George, would come home every night looking exhausted and worn out. So, you offered to help. He said that they were fine, of course, but after some persuasion, he finally gave in. 

The day started as normal. You woke up, made breakfast, and ate with George. Except for today, you were going to be leaving the house together. You decided to wear a tight tan skirt with a white blouse and white heels paired with nude lipstick. 

“This is so exciting,” you beamed as you both walked into the shop. “You’ve been here before, why is it exciting?” George asked. 

“We’ll be working together! And I’ll be able to finally help and allow you to maybe relax a little,” you said and hugged his arm. 

George just chuckled at your excitement and kissed your forehead. 

“Do you know that I love that lipstick on you?” George whispered in your ear, “No I did not, but I’m glad that you like it,” you giggled. 

Soon after that, Fred had walked down from the apartment that he now lived alone in and you guys opened. The morning was a little slow, but when it got to lunchtime it got SUPER busy. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered to yourself as you looked around. There were people everywhere. Almost so many people that you had to squeeze past someone anywhere you went. Your thoughts were soon interrupted by George though, “Hey, love, would you mind putting these down there?” he asked and handed you a box of “Weather in a bottle” and pointed to a shelf. 

You nodded your head and smiled before bending down to restock the shelf. “Darn these heels,” you groaned and tried to regain your balance. Your outfit was not working in your favor right now. You stood up after a minute of struggling to stay on your feet and restocking the shelf and turned around. 

You adjusted your skirt before looking up to find a flustered looking George. “Georgie, are you alright?” you asked and rubbed his arm. He snapped back to reality and nodded his head ‘yes’ before quickly walking away. 

“That’s weird,” you thought before going to see if a family needed some help. “Is there anything I can help you with?” you asked the family. “Oh, um, yes. My son is looking for ‘Weather in a bottle’,” the lady said. 

“Oh, well you guys are lucky! I just restocked those!” you told the family and walked back over to where you were before. You bent down once more and grabbed the lady one, “Here you go,” you told her and handed her the bottle. “Thank you so much,” she thanked you and handed it to her son. 

You nodded your head and turned around. Once again, George was looking at you, flustered. “Seriously Georgie, are you alright-?” you looked down to see a tent forming in his pants. 

You slightly giggled to yourself and walked up to him. Maybe your outfit was working in your favor today. 

“Are you alright Georgie?” you whispered in his ear, seductively. His breath hitched and he looked down at you. “That skirt is a little tight, don’t you think?” he asked while adjusting his collar.

“What? This thing?” you asked and looked down at your butt, “I don’t think so. But do you know what? You look kinda toasty, is it too hot in here?”. 

Your hands went under his tie up to one of the buttons on his dress shirt and started to unbutton it. “Y/n, stop,” he warned and grabbed your wrists, holding them tight and pulling you toward him. 

“What? I’m not doing anything,” you said innocently. When he looked down at you to give you another warning, he got a full glimpse down your shirt. He immediately looked back up and looked around, trying to compose himself before he pounced on you. 

“You might wanna go behind the counter though, so you can hide that,” you told him and pointed down to his bulge. 

He looked down and quickly grabbed your hand to bring you to his office. “Can’t you see that I’m working?” he spat as he closed the door. 

“I am too, it’s not my fault you get so hot and bothered when I help you restock shelves,” you told him sassily and crossed your arms, unintentionally making your boobs push up. 

“I told you to stop, I’m not telling you again,” he growled and walked up to you. He was now towering over you. 

“I’m not doing anything though!” you defended. 

“You know you are, and you’re doing it on purpose. So just stop,” he told you, his jaw clenched. 

“And what if I don’t? You gonna punish me?” you teased and ran circles on his chest with your index finger. “I might just have to,” he growled. Your eyes widened, you were not expecting that. You were just joking, but now you were turned on. 

“Oh yeah? You’re not going to do that, we both know you’re too soft,” you teased and walked closer to him, biting your lip. You were playing with fire now. 

“That’s it,” he growled and grabbed his wand, “Alohomora’’. With that, the door locked and he pushed you against the wall. 

“H-Here?” you squeaked out. “Yep, which means you gotta stay quiet,” he said and started kissing your neck. You moaned. “Quiet,” he warned and kissed your neck harder. There were going to be marks for sure. 

“G-George!” you gasped as he squeezed one of your breasts from outside of your blouse. He was quick to unbutton your blouse after that and soon you were just in your skirt and your bra. 

You went to unbutton his suit jacket, but he grabbed both of your wrists and pushed them to your sides. “No touching,” he whispered harshly. You whined at his words, realizing how hard that was going to be. You loved to run your hands across his chest and pull at his hair. 

He unzipped your skirt and pulled it down your legs. You were now only in heels and your undergarments. “Jump,” he ordered, to which you obliged and jumped up. He grabbed under your thighs and kissed you hard. You moaned into the kiss as he ground his bulge up against your clothed pussy. 

“G-George please,” you pleaded. “What do you want, Y/n?” he asked, he was teasing you, of course, he knew exactly what you wanted. 

“You- oh my god- your dick- bloody hell,” you moaned as he started trailing kisses down your stomach to your heat. How he was holding you up still was unknown. 

“Well, as much as I would love my dick in you, I am supposed to be punishing you. Soo, how about, no?” he teased, which made you whine once more. 

He ripped your panties off of you, making you gasp, as your glistening pussy was exposed. You shivered when you felt his breath on it. He then stuck his tongue in you, almost instantly earning an unholy sound from you. “Delicious,” he praised and kept going. 

You went to go grab his hair but then you remembered that he said no touching. You debated for a few seconds on whether you would risk breaking his rules and getting punished even further, or whether you would just listen and get an amazing reward. 

You went with option two and grabbed onto something else instead. You grabbed both of your boobs while his tongue conveniently plunged further in you at the same time, making you squeeze your boobs and let out a loud moan. 

“There are children out there, you know?” George laughed and looked up at you. His eyes widened when he saw that you were playing with your boobs the whole time. He growled as he felt his pants get even tighter if that’s even possible. 

He picked you up, legs wrapped around him, and carried you over to the desk. He threw everything off of the surface before slamming you down onto it. 

“You think you can just play with your boobs while I punish you?” he spat and laid you down flat on the cold desk. “I’m sorry,” you squeaked out. 

“Sorry won’t cut it. Now we have two options, I could stop right now and leave you horny all day, or I could fuck you so hard that when we get back out there, you won’t be able to walk,”. “Option two!” you quickly said. 

“Of course you would choose that option, which I’m kinda glad you did because my dick is so hard right now and the thought of me slamming into you seems much more fun than being hard all day,” George said. 

You were growing impatient, “Just fuck me already!” you growled. “Option 1 is still there, Y/n, don’t make me angrier than I already am,” he growled and grabbed your bare thigh tightly. 

“Sorry, let me be nicer. Shut up and please fuck me,” you said, regaining some confidence. “That’s not any better,” he said harshly and yanked you up by your neck, stretching you open to him. 

“Sorry,” you squeaked, your confidence leaving immediately, “Beg for it,” he whispered in your ear, nibbling your earlobe. “Please fuck me until I can’t walk anymore! Please! I can’t take it, please!” you begged and shook the thigh that he was holding. 

He grinned and quickly took off his suit jacket, along with his shirt and tie. He then quickly got out of his pants and boxers. Soon, he was naked, and you were only in your bra. 

“You might need this,” he said and put his tie in your mouth. Before you could even process what he had said, he slammed into you making you scream. His pace was fast and relentless. Your brain went fuzzy and you couldn’t control the sounds that were coming out of you. “I love the sounds you make, Y/n,” George grunted in your ear, “they’re so pretty,”.

 He could see you struggling to keep your hands back from touching him. He chuckled to himself and said, “You can touch me now,”. Right as he said that, your hands immediately went to his hair. You started lightly tugging at the ginger ends, making him grunt. 

“You know what I love about you? The fact that you look so damn sexy all the time without even meaning to,” George whispered huskily in your ear and pulled out, before slamming back into you. “Oh!” you moaned. “You just bend over to do your job and I get hard,” he started kissing your neck, “you wear my favorite color lipstick without even knowing. You’re just so irresistible and I’m so glad I get to call you mine,”. 

After 5 minutes of relentless fucking, you could feel the knot in your stomach forming. You clenched around his dick, which made him moan quietly. “I know you’re close, but hold it,” George spat and started rubbing your clit. He was making it really hard for you not to cum right then and there. 

Soon enough you could feel him twitching inside you, “Alright, 1, 2, 3,” he grunted. With that, you both released and were panting very heavily. 

You spit the tie out of your mouth and looked into George’s eyes, “Wow,” you both breathed out. He pulled out of you making you wince. 

George pulled you close to him, making sure that you didn’t fall over, “I think I should let you help at the shop more,”. 

“If it meant every day ended like this, I would be all for it,” you giggled and kissed him. George then picked up your guy’s clothes and helped you get dressed before he got himself dressed. You both made yourselves presentable before you hopped off of the desk. 

“Can you walk?” George asked as he saw you wobbling toward the door. “Barely,” you laughed and leaned against a shelf. He laughed as well and helped you up. 

You two walked out of the office to see everyone still shopping like normal. You both breathed a sigh of relief before you saw Fred run toward you two. 

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you two everywhere,” Fred said. You both just looked at each other and then back at him.

“Okay, well I gotta grab something out of the office, I’ll be right back,” he said and before you two could protest, he walked inside. Fred immediately walked back out though and coughed, “Bloody hell, what did you two do in there?!” he exclaimed. You and George just laughed. 

“You two are disgusting,” Fred spat and rushed away. You and George both looked at each other once more and laughed before kissing. 

“You still look so sexy even though I just fucked your brains out,” George whispered in your ear. “We gotta work, George, maybe we can do this again later,” you told him and caressed his hand gently. 

“Fine,” George groaned and kissed you once more before you both got back to work.

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

xoxo

#george weasley #george weasely smut #george weasly x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x y/n #harry potter characters x reader #harry potter fanfiction

[knottyk]

Rockstar Babies

im so so sooooo sorry this took so long, anon!! (this was sitting in my inbox for over a month omg 😭) ok i give u permission to slap me once...maybe twice. HAHAHAH anyway, i hope this lives up to ur request ♡ ps. yes this is a repost

summary: ava and hunter watching eddie perform for the first time

tags: fluff, mama!reader x papa!eddie, kids and wholesome stuff ☁️

ava and hunter

The hotel room was bubbling with giggles and the springs of the bed creaked under the weight of two jumping kids. Though you weren't in the comfort of your own home, Ava and Hunter didn't let that get in the way of their fun. 

You were busy stuffing your bag with the necessities: extra clothes, snacks, little toys and the works.

Tonight was a big night for all four of you. Eddie was having one of Corroded Coffin's most anticipated shows while Ava and Hunter would be their dad in action for the first time. You on the other hand were full of jitters and what ifs clouding your mind. 

What if it feels too much for the kids? What if Eddie can't focus because of you? because of them? Plus, metal isn't really featured on the kids' radio, are they? Quite frankly, they hadn't been exposed to Eddie's music too much. 

"Mama, quick we're gonna be late!" Ava huffed, exhausted from jumping up and down on the bed. 

Hunter had long retired from bouncing and was now resting on the headboard, watching his sister with a toothy grin. "Late! Late!" He echoed. 

You laugh at their eagerness and slung the well secured bag on your shoulders. "Well, I'm all dressed up. You guys are still barefoot." You teased. 

Ava was the first to run to the door where her sparkly pink shoes rested, sitting carelessly on the carpeted floor as she stuffed her tiny feet in. Hunter followed and grabbed on his sister's hair to maintain his balance as he tried to fit into his shoe. 

She was unfazed, focused on the task at hand while you gingerly ran to catch Hunter's hand off her well-styled hair.  "Okay, big boy. Mama's got you." 

What felt like thirty minutes passed and you were finally on the way to the concert venue. You didn't want to be there early but now, you were late. The show had probably started ten or so minutes ago.

With Hunter suddenly turning fussy in the car, you couldn't find the time to call Eddie and let him know you were gonna be late.

Upon arriving the venue, you thanked the driver before zooming to the entrance with Hunter cradled in one arm and your other hand holding Ava's. 

You were about to go the general entrance when an orange-haired woman called your name. She had three lanyards around her hand and an identical one hung around her neck. 

"Lydia, nice to meet you." She handed you the IDs. "Cory's pretty busy in there so he sent me to get you guys." Cory was Corroded Coffin's long time manager who you've met multiple times before. 

You could hear the vibrations from within the building when she crouched to level with Ava who was now hiding behind your legs, her puffy skirt poking out. "Hi pretty girl, your outfit is totally metal."

Ava caught her skirt between her fingers, playing with the material with a shy smile on her face. "Thank you." She let out a small voice.

You bounced your little boy on your hip and let him play with the lace of your pass. "And this is Hunter." 

"Nice to meet you, sir Hunter." She extended two fingers towards him and he gladly accepted her gesture for a handshake. 

The two of you shared a look and chuckled to yourselves. Lydia ushered you in through a door that led backstage. She grabbed two pairs of ear mufflers from the desk and handed it to you. 

She slid one on Ava's head and you put the other one on Hunter's. "Okay, you guys can stay here for a bit and we can go back to the mixing room whenever. Just call me." She did a call hand sign, yelling over the music. 

Your whole body rumbled with vibrations and you were afraid that it would be too much for the kids but looking over to Ava, you were surprised to see that she was already dancing to the beat of the drums emitting from the stage. 

Hunter wiggled his was out of your grasp and ran to join his sister. You turned to Lydia and thanked her. "I think we'll stay here for a bit."

She was quick to nod and within a second, she was gone with a clipboard in her hand.

Other staff offered to assist and you made sure to stay out of the crew's way. Luckily, they let you stand beside the curtains and you were finally able to catch a glimpse of Eddie for the first time that night. 

He had on a black muscle tee, ripped black jeans and a red plaid shirt wrapped around his waist along with some chain links. His hair was let loose and you could barely see the stud in his ear with all the frizz covering it. 

"Papa!" The kids shrieked. 

They jumped in excitement and Ava was the first to approach closer to the curtain. You grabbed her by the hand, letting her know the furthest she can step. 

The band was now in the middle of their second song with Eddie's guitar solo coming up. He walked across the stage as he ripped through the solo, head thrown back and forth with his hair. 

Ava and Hunter, was quick to mimic Eddie's actions, unbeknownst to him. They both held imaginary guitars while rocking their heads from side to side.

With Ava's all pink outfit and Hunter's squeaky shoes, they weren't hard to spot. From the corner of his eyes, Eddie finally noticed you and you gave a little wave as you locked eyes. 

His eyes fell on the tiny rocking figures and he turned to face them as he continued with his riff. 

His other bandmates noticed this and one of them comes out to invite both kids on stage. They hesitantly turned to you for permission and you turned to Eddie. He smiled and nodded and did the same to your kids, looking at you with puppy eyes. 

With your signal, they both ran out and stopped to face Eddie who was now on one knee, fingers skilfully gliding on his guitar. The crowd went wild and all your inhibitions came melting down. 

Hastily digging at your bag, you pulled out the camcorder and zoomed in at the precious moment unfolding before your eyes. 

Ava and Hunter hopped around the stage with Eddie tailing close to them as he kept playing and despite the booming vibrations running through you, you could hear their giggles as they danced around their dad. 

Once the song finished, Eddie quickly jogged to you, both kids in tow, and placed a quick kiss on your lips before putting the kids down. 

"I thought you changed your mind. Thought you weren't gonna come."

Though visibly tired, Ava mimicked the high pitched sounds as she played her imaginary guitar while Hunter sloppily threw his chubby arms around in attempts to act out playing the drums. "We're rockstars!"

You giggled at the sight.

"Are you kidding?" You kissed him again. "We wouldn't miss it for the world."

masterlist

#dad!eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie x y/n #eddie imagine

[mostfandomfanatic]

His

Possessive!Bakugou x Fem!Reader One Shot

Word Count: ✨1111✨

Warning: Suggestive content

A/n: This is a repost cause tumblr was being weird with the tags. I also fixed some spelling.

ao3 link: His - Bakugou x Reader

Bakugou sat in the common room with the other boys of class 3-A. They were chatting about something lame, nothing that Bakugou felt any need or want to contribute to. His mind was focused on something else, something far across the room. Make that someone.

You were sat at the other lounge area with the girls, the lot of you just getting back from a trip to the mall. Shopping bags basically filled that area of the room, each girl having her fair share.

Bakugou watched as you pulled out a pretty yellow sundress from one of the bags and held it to your body. The girls all oohed and aahed, he could faintly hear Mina call it “adorable.”

Bakugou couldn’t help his mind from slipping, remembering exactly how he used the term.

“Awe, is my pretty princess embarrassed? You’re so adorable.”

You hid your face under your hands as you lay under him, practically bare for him besides your bra and underwear. You hadn’t planned for your date to turn out this way, so you had worn the only matching pair you had that was clean, a baby pink set with a little white crown pattern. Hence the endearment “princess.”

That’s what you were to Bakugou. His princess, his baby, his doll, his girl, his. If you were honest, you’d let him call you whatever he wanted to.

Bakugou asked you out at the very end of your second year. You, of course, said yes. Over the break you were practically inseparable, but when the new school year began, Bakugou had asked you to keep your relationship on the down low for the time being. He wanted you all to himself, he didn’t want anyone prying into something they had no business in. And you had agreed, keeping your relationship a secret made it so the girls weren’t on your back asking for the “juicy details.” You were able to enjoy the privacy, and you both had to admit, it was a thrill trying to sneak around the others.

There’s only two people who know about your relationship. Kirishima and Mr. Aizawa. Kirishima found out probably the worst way possible, walking into Bakugou’s room when you two were busy. You had never seen anyone get so red in the face before, and after that you both learned to double check that the door is locked. Mr. Aizawa found out when he was doing his nightly rounds, he had spotted Bakugou sneaking out of your room and put two and two together. He didn’t seem to care, but he did give you a warning about being out passed curfew and handed you a brochure about safe sex, which left both of you a bit mortified.

Bakugou snapped back to the boy's conversation at the sound of your name.

“I bet Y/n’s gonna look smokin’ in that dress,” Kaminari commented.

Bakugou now realized he wasn’t the only one whose eyes were glued to your figure. In fact, almost every guy couldn’t take their eyes off of you.

It pissed him off.

He noticed Kirishima glancing over at him, probably checking to see if he’d lose his cool. But Bakugou had grown a lot since their first year. While he still has his explosive moments, he was calmer and more mature now. Something like this wouldn’t set him off. In fact, he took pride in this. You, the woman that his friends were currently gawking at, were his. Even if it did piss him off, they could look all they wanted, because he was the only one allowed to touch.

You had left the room for a few moments and came back out wearing the dress. It was form-fitting on your chest and waist, but the skirt flowed around your thighs, falling just above your knees. To Bakugou, you looked like the most gorgeous, innocent, alluring creature to ever walk the earth. And you probably didn’t even realize how attractive you looked right now. Bakugou knew you could be oblivious to those kinds of things, he remembers having to show you many times just how attracted he was to you.

The other boys sure noticed though, and they made that very clear.

“She looks even sexier than I imagined,” Kaminari said.

“Damn, didn’t realize a sundress could look so good,” said Sero.

A few more comments here and there, Bakugou didn’t care what they said. Their words didn’t matter. You were his.

Until he hears Mineta’s irritating, annoying, grating voice.

“I want to run my hands all up and down her hot body! I want to see what kind of wonders are underneath, just waiting to be torn off by my hands! I want to see what she looks like bent-“

Bakugou had had enough. Not even listening to the rest of the pervs' words, Bakugou stood suddenly and set off a few sparks in his palms, thus gaining the attention of the entire room. The boys looked surprised by Bakugou’s intense glare, while the girls looked over confused by his outburst.

“I have a warning for all of you,” Bakugou said, focusing his glare on the perv who was already trembling in his seat.

Bakugou made his way to where you now sat on the couch. You were turned around giving him a confused, innocent expression. He placed his hand on the arm of the couch and leaned over you, using his other hand to grab your chin and force you to look up at him.

“Y/n. Is. Mine.” He growled loud enough for everyone to hear before he leaned in and kissed you with as much passion he could. He had to show them, he had to prove it to them. They couldn't touch you. They couldn't even look at you without knowing.

You were his.

You broke away with a gasp, breathless and flushed. Bakugou gently ran his thumb across your swollen bottom lip.

“We still on for tonight?” He asked you calmly.

All you could do was nod your head yes. Too flustered to say anything, wondering what on earth had gotten into him.

“Good. By the way, you look gorgeous in that dress, you should let me take it off you later.” He gave you one last peck on the lips before releasing you and heading towards the elevators.

Once he disappeared the girls pounced, asking what just happened, if you were dating, how long have you been dating, what was happening tonight. All this while the boys just sat in shock. Not only because you were taken, and by Bakugou of all people. They were shocked that Bakugou was the first to get a girlfriend.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x self insert #bnha x y/n #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x you #mha x reader

[theweasleysredhair]

Breathless [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 2783

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: “Stop biting that fucking lip!” In which Y/n is a sales assistant working in the Weasley’s store; Fred likes her but finds it difficult to show this, especially since all he wants to do is to throw her against a wall and shag her.

WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. read with caution. or delight. idk anymore.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @wand3ringr0s3 @theweirdsideofstuff @harrysweasleys @thoseofgreatambition

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: I DID A THING (Fred Weasley is one hot motherfucker just saying)

also this was supposed to be a drabble... oops?

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

Fred wondered why he had hired you.

Well he knew why he had - because you were amazing at your job - but right now, as he watched you, bent slightly at the waist, interacting with some young children who had entered the shop, he severely regretted his decision. The only reason for this was that, due to the nice summer weather, you had decided to wear a skirt. A form-fitting skirt. A skirt that made Fred’s pants a tad too form-fitting themselves.

It wasn’t your fault - the sun had come as a welcome change, prompting the majority of people to be wearing lighter clothes as they hurried through Diagon Alley, so as to beat the heat. You’d just happened to have chosen a skirt that made Fred wish he could bend you over the till counter and pull said skirt up to your waist.

He couldn’t help the way his eyes wandered down your form to the curve of your bum as you reached up to grab products for the customers you were with, or - even better - this morning when you had bent down to pick up something someone (Fred) had dropped. His heart was pounding from the thought, and he was still trying to live down the fact he’d had to ask to swap with George, who was behind the till, in order to hide a certain problem of his from customers and from you - something George had found hilarious, joking about it every time he passed his twin throughout the rest of the day - “Alright there, Freddie? Working hard are we?” - earning more than a few glares.

Merlin though, Fred wanted you. He wanted to be able to kiss you, hold you, love you openly. He wanted to ask you for your input on new inventions, to ask you for your opinion on anything - everything. To be the last one to kiss you at night and the first thing you saw in the morning. And he definitely wanted you in his bed. Or in the shower. Or against the wall.

Preferably all of the above.

He couldn’t remember when he first caught feelings - sometime during your years at Hogwarts, but Fred couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he realised he was in love with you as opposed to just loving you. Perhaps it was that one game of truth or dare that lead to you kissing him - a thought he savoured and thought back to a lot. The way your lips felt against his and how he was able to hold you close in that moment.

All he knew was that he was left breathless in your presence.

He spent the rest of the day with thoughts of you in his head, swirling around as he tried to focus on serving customers. This proved a difficult feat considering you were right by him on the shop floor - talking, laughing, smiling. Fred cursed himself for being so caught up on you, but he couldn’t help himself.

He was so wrapped up in watching the way your lips turned up into a smile, the way your hips swayed as you walked, imagining how they’d feel against his own that he nearly missed George bidding his goodbyes after the store had closed for the day - something about meeting Angelina - as he made himself busy tidying one of the stands near the entrance.

“Hey Fred?” You called from the storage room. Fred blinked, pulling his thoughts away from his fantasies and back into reality, “Yeah?”

There was silence for a moment, and Fred placed the vial he was holding back into its place before wandering over to the storage room just as you entered back onto the shop floor.

“George asked if we could find a place to put these new products,” you said, bringing out a couple of trays of a new product designed to give the taker the temporary ability to read minds.

Fred frowned slightly. He knew for a fact that this product was supposed to be set up at the weekend, not today, before he both cursed and thanked George mentally as he realised his twin had given him some time alone with you - and an excuse as to why.

You’d placed the trays down and began looking around the shop, trying to work out the best place to display them, absent-mindedly pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you did.

Fred’s gaze was directed at where your teeth met your lip and he swallowed, his jaw clenching as he imagined himself being the one biting your lip, and what sounds you’d make whilst he was doing so.

In his haze, he hadn’t realised you’d moved to the opposite side of the till counter, placing some other products you’d taken from another display down as you leant on the counter yourself. The movement caused Fred to glance over at you and his breath immediately hitched in his throat.

He could’ve sworn your top was buttoned all the way to your collar just moments ago and yet now, as you were leaning on your elbows on the counter as you spoke about the idea for the display you had, all he could focus on was the sight of the top of your breasts, in perfect view from the way your top had fallen as you’d leant.

“I suppose we could always move the love potions stand to the other side of the shop,” you looked up at Fred to see his response and instead were met with a soft gaze and no hint that he’d heard what you’d said. You raised your hand up in front of his face, an amused smile now playing on your lips as you watched him jump slightly, pulling him from whatever daydream he’d concocted in his head.

“I’m sorry, love, what we’re you saying?” He reaches up to stroke the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Were you not listening again?” You teased, giving him a playful eye roll. “I’m sorry, I was just distracted,” he replied.

“By what?”

Fred cleared his throat, not wanting to admit that he was very much imagining throwing you against the nearest wall and snogging the hell out of you. He instead changed the subject, he hoped subtly, as he returned his focus to the tray of products on the counter, “We could move the Pygmy puffs over and put the new stand nearer the front.”

“That could work,” you looked around and bit your lip in thought again, “Yeah and then we could move...”

But Fred’s focus was lost again. He knew he should be paying attention, that you’d beg him to know what had him so distracted but he couldn’t help it. Not when you were stood barely five feet in front of him, with your top practically unbuttoned and your skirt hugging your curves the way it was.

“What do you think?” You turned back to him happily, before seeing him in a trance again, “Um... Fred?”

Fred blinked, “Oh um yeah, yeah sure, sounds good!”

“Okay good! And then where should we move the snack boxes to...” And there you went again with the lip biting. Merlin, were you doing it on purpose? Could you tell how badly it was affecting him?

And suddenly Fred was only vaguely aware of you being mid sentence as he interrupted your planning with a growl, “Will you stop biting that fucking lip?!”

You jumped, a bewildered look dancing across your features, “What?”

“Stop. Biting. That. Fucking. Lip.” He spoke in a low tone that hit you between your legs and your mouth dropped slightly.

That’s when you saw it. His skin flushed, jaw clenched. His darkening eyes. Your own eyes wandered down his suit-clad arms, sleeves rolled to his elbows and displaying his toned forearms, knuckles white from gripping onto the counter.

You watched his tongue dart out to swipe across his bottom lip and nearly whimpered.

“Oh yeah? Or what?” You challenged him, purposely pulling your bottom lip between your teeth again.

“Or this!”

And suddenly Fred had slammed you against the nearest flat wall, his hands around your wrists as he easily pushed your arms up above your head. Your chests were pressed together, heaving from the deep breaths you were taking, his forehead resting on yours before he crashed his lips against your own.

He held onto your wrists with one hand, using the other to pull you closer to him by your hip, his tongue licking into your mouth as you moaned, completely taken by the man pressed against you. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip and gently nibbled, finally finding out what it felt like to bite your fucking lip.

You felt him through his pants, hard against your thigh as you sighed into his mouth, your hips rolling against his and making him let out a guttural moan.

He dropped his grip from your wrists just long enough to shake off his suit jacket, leaving him in his shirt as you ran your hands down his chest, revelling in the feel of his abs through the material.

His lips were still on yours, as if he was trying to imprint the feel of kissing you into his brain forever. In case this was a one time thing. In case it never happened again.

And then suddenly his mind was taken over by the feeling of your hands on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as his own hands ran along the skin underneath your own shirt, fingertips reaching up to dance along the base of your bra, his hands gripping your back as you worked to take each others’ clothing off.

You pulled away for just a moment, pulling your shirt over your head as Fred did the same, throwing your bra somewhere in the middle of the floor, instantly forgotten as Fred put his hands back on you.

You shimmied your skirt down before making quick work of getting Fred out of his pants, mouth almost watering when you saw his hard cock pressing against the material of his boxers.

He pushed his lips back on yours, holding your bum as your hands reached around his neck to pull at the tufts of hair there, earning what you could only describe as a growl from him.

“Tell me to stop,” he groaned, taking in the sight of you, breathless and writhing under him.

“What if... I don’t want... you to stop,” you gasped as his mouth ghosted down your jaw, pressing the occasional open mouthed kiss to your skin.

“You want me to keep going?” He asked, sucking at the skin just below your jawline. “I want you to make me feel good,” you said as you stared up into his dark eyes.

“Darling, I can make you feel better than good,” Fred promised with a smirk.

His lips were then busy licking down your neck, towards your chest and he gently teased a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and earning breathy moans from you. One hand gripped your bum as the other held the back of your thigh, slowly moving round and under your skirt as he lightly ran a finger along the lace of your underwear. “This wet just for me?” He grinned, pulling away from your breast to meet your gaze as you nodded breathlessly, “All for you, Freddie.”

“I like the sound of that,” he replied as he moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention as he hooked a finger under the band of your underwear.

He began trailing kisses down your stomach and then kneeled before you, slowly pulling your underwear down your legs before pausing, looking up at you, “These expensive?”

“I can buy more.”

And with that, he ripped them from your legs, throwing them off to the side, falling somewhere with your discarded shirts.

His warm breath hit between your legs and he gripped your thighs before plunging his tongue inside of you, licking into you and making you gasp. The sound you made when he gently bit your clit was downright filthy, and you swore you could feel Fred smirking against you. He pushed his fingers into you, lazily thrusting them in and out as you leant against the wall, eyes closing in pleasure.

Just as you felt yourself getting close, your breathing staggered as you edged towards your climax, Fred decided to pull away from you, the cold air hitting you suddenly, making you open your eyes and you whimpered at the loss of contact.

“Look at you, being so needy. My needy girl, huh? I’ll make you cum, don’t worry, I’m just... dragging it out a little,” Fred smirked as he stood up, his fingers suddenly entering you again but this time only moving slowly.

You desperately thrust your hips into his hand, hoping for more friction, sighing frustratedly as he tutted and removed his hand completely.

He stepped away from you, pulling his underwear off and you finally caught the sight of his cock, long and thick, precum covering the tip. He grabbed himself, slowly stroking himself as he stepped back towards you.

“Can I..?” You spoke, your eyes following his hands. “Be my guest, princess.”

Fred could’ve died happy, he thought, with your pretty lips around his cock, your hands pumping what wouldn’t fit into your mouth, letting out groans as your tongue swirled around the tip.

He felt himself twitch, when suddenly you’d pulled away and he knew as he watched you stand up with your swollen lips curling into a smile that it was your way of paying him back for denying you yours before.

“Dangerous game you’re playing here, love,” He warned, stepping towards you.

“I’m playing to win,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest and absent-mindedly pushing your breasts up with the action.

Fred groaned, “I need to be inside of you.”

His hands were back on you, kissing you again before he guided himself to push inside of you. You both groaned together, breaths hitting the other as he thrusted up into you, pinning you against the wall. He grabbed your waist, his muscles flexing, sweat beading along his collarbone as you leant forward to kiss his neck, biting the spot under his ear that made him suddenly moan and his hips stutter.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well,” he breathed out, his abs tightening with every push into you.

He then nodded over to the till counter just behind you, “See that counter? I’ve been thinking about bending you over it all day.”

“Then why don’t you?” You gasped out your breath hitching in your throat as he gave a particularly deep thrust.

Without a reply, he pulled out of you, making you whimper at the empty feeling, before pulling you over to the counter quickly. He shoved the product trays onto the floor, unbothered by them crashing to the floor as he pressed a rough, dirty kiss to your lips before turning you around and bending you over like he’d imagined so many times before. His hands roamed across your bum, squeezing before pushing back into you and making you cry out.

His hands were on your waist as he pounded into you, before he reached around to pull you up so your back hit his chest, both of you glancing towards the large front window of the shop.

“Anyone could come by and see us, but you don’t care about that do you? Just as long as I keep making you feel good,” he growled in your ear, and you felt yourself clench around his cock, earning a groan from him.

“Freddie,” you whispered, your head falling back against his shoulder as you felt your stomach tightening, building up to your release, “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-“

“There’s a good girl,” Fred praised, a hand running up your stomach to hold one of your breasts, “You’re so good to me. Come for me, princess.”

You let out a moan as your climax washed over you, collapsing forward onto the counter as Fred thrusted into you a couple more times before releasing inside of you, gripping your hips as he groaned, his head falling against the back of your neck as you both tried to catch your breath.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his lips tracing across your back and down your shoulder. And in that moment, as you were coming down from your high, whispering the words back to him, you knew this was the start of something that neither of you were prepared for.

After all, you left each other breathless.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #harry potter

[spideyspeaches]

Take me to Church ↬ a.r

requested by @merceret​: Arvin and cheerleader!Reader sneak off during the night and have smut in his car in the woods? 👀🙃

A/N: this is a repost from my old account!

Warnings: unprotected semi-public sex ( *whispers* they do it in a caaaar 👀 also don’t be a loner, cover your boner ✌🏽✌🏽 ) LOT OF SPOILERS IN THIS!! Bad attempt at writing like a 64 year old man from Ohio.

MINORS DNI

WC: 1.5k

Pairing: Arvin Russell x Cheerleader!Reader

Masterlist || taglist

Arvin was a smart boy. He had been told that countless times by his mother before the godforsaken disease took her away, and his daddy too, before he started beating the shit out of him.

He didn’t doubt that a minute in his life, but then he grew up, wondering what went wrong. He was not the same doe eyed boy anymore. He liked to think that he was strong, not like his daddy used to tell him before a good spanking.And he definitely wasn’t a sinner, no, he was just a victim of God’s wrath. It wasn’t his fault that the boys made fun of his sister, they all deserve the beating they got.

Breathing in the cigarette, he blew out the smoke before it could burn his lungs, or kill him from the same disease that killed his ma. He was sitting on the front porch of his school, watching as people went by. The jocks wandering around the field, some of the artistic ones sketching while eating their lunches, and then there was the cheerleading squad.

He watched. It’s what he did a lot. He watched as cancer took his mother, he watched the way the fake Preacher looked at Lenora.

“You know, one of those sticks take six minutes of your life.” A voice spoke behind him. You sat besides him, your cheerleader costume showing your smooth legs and your pretty smile, hair done in an updo.

“And how would you know that?” He smirked, looking you up as you blush. God you looked so pretty, blushing like that. He watched you too. How you would roam the halls with your pom poms and those pompous sons of bitches that teased his sister. But it was never You. You were a sweet little girl, always got As in all your tests and all.

“I always tell that to my daddy to get him to quit. Tell him that it’s six minutes less he gets to spend with me.” You said, taking the stick from his hand and smashing the butt on the ground. You fiddled with your skirt, accidentally hiking it up your thigh.

“Did he listen?” He asked, looking at You as You smiled.

“No.”

He looked at you again. You were looking at him with your shiny eyes, all innocent and bright. He wondered what you would say when he fucked you hard against his old car, scoring through the woods and scream his name until you were sore. Shaking himself from his head, he saw you biting your lips. He wasn’t even sure You liked him like that.

Craving for another smoke, he fiddled with his hands, taking your hands instead, looking for a reaction. You didn’t snatch it back, but instead, straddled his lap to pull him into a heated kiss. Your nails scraped at his hair, the smooth strands getting ruffled up as you push your lips on his, uncaring of the others around them.

You moaned against his mouth, the sound going straight South. Taking your waist, he squeezed them lightly, crazy happy that he was making out with You, Y/N L/N, under the bleachers like some cheesy films like those in the Carnivals.

“You wanna ditch class?” He asked after sometime, heaving for a breath as you licked your swollen lips. Your makeup was a little smeared, but You still looked beautiful. His heart sped up, uncharacteristically, a strange rush of excitement flooding his veins.

“Yeah. How bout the woods?” You said, getting off from his lap. He was glad the ground was almost empty, wouldn’t want to get caught by some old janitor or a nosy freshman.

“Sounds good to me.” He said and crashed his lips into hers to steal another kiss.

                                      _______________________

“Oh! this is good” You whimpered as he slammed your back to the hood of his car, gripping you in his strong hold as the cicadas and crickets chirped, the bright sun hitting your naked chest through the windows, making it slick with sweat. You were in a forest, and were sure that no one would come now, and with the noises you were making? No one would dare come near the shaking car.

Kissing him with your swollen lips, you gripped his muscular back as he nipped you, eliciting another moan from you. He grabbed your legs, hiking up the skirt that you were still wearing. God the damned skirt, you wanted it out of your way. Slipping your hands to unlatch it, you were stopped by his hands as he slid his own on your clothed pussy. Stripping you, your breath hitched as he inserted two fingers, your clit slicked with pleasure.

“Ohh Arvin, hmm.” You breathed into his ears, enjoying the way he shuddered when you said his name. Pulling for a moment, he looked you up and down before removing his boxers awkwardly, head slanting because of the roof, his thick cock springing out like nobody’s business, making you clench your thighs.

Shoving your thighs, you hooked your legs around him, pulling him down as he slid in your entrance. “Are you sure?” He breathed as you nodded in response, stroking his chest that made him clench, his abs more visible under the sunlight.

“Come on baby, I’m waiting.” You teased, scratching your nails along the V of his stomach. Arching your back, you grunted as he thrusted into you, your walls closing in as your hips clashed against each other.

“You like that baby girl? Like it when I’m inside you?” He cooed, making your stomach coil in pleasure. Momentarily, you gave up the sweet girl facade, your heart racing as if you had run a marathon. How could it be tame? when he was inside you, making you feel all kinds of things?

“Yes, I do Arvin, oh Jesus you’re amazing!” You jerked. You weren’t sure when you had had such a good fuck before, and sure enough never this fast had you reached your high. And Arvin? Jesus, he was a sight for sore eyes, his eyes clenched as he pushed inside your walls, hitting your g-spot, making you gasp in pleasure. His muscled chest vibrating as you felt your stomach tighten.

“Saying God’s name like that while we’re fucking? You wanna be a bad girl now?” He smirked later, not really meaning what he said. If it meant that you would be saying his name with that pretty mouth of yours, he wouldn’t mind it.

“This is not sin, baby, this is pleasure. Call it what you want but I said what I said.” You drawled, pulling yourself up, his hard dick still inside you as you sat up, taking his face in your hands and hovering your lips over his. “You’re so sweet Arvin, you wanna fuck again?”

“I would love to.” He said shakily, leaning forward to capture your lips again. You dance along like that, him kissing your mouth, and your neck, then your breasts, leaving marks all over you, The Backstreet Boys playing on the junk radio of his car. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“And you have the prettiest little lips.” You said, holding his chin and delicately caressing his soft lips and leaning in for another kiss.

                                 ____________________________

The next day you saw him again, acid washed jacket and backwards cap, striped T-shirt that fit him quite snugly. He was walking with the girl again, the girl who the boys teased relentlessly. You didn’t understand why they did so, make a poor girl question herself when those whores out there were just as bad. Lenora was a sweet girl, you liked her.

Running towards him, you quickly fixed your sweater and skirt, taming the strands near your shoulder.

“Hey Arvin!” You said nervously. He had been a gentleman to you. He looked up smiling, telling Lenora to make her way as you, lighting a smoke on his way. Scowling, you took the stick out of his mouth.

Looking down, he smiled, “Hey Y/N.”

He was fiddling with his fingers again. You took his hands in yours, tracing the veins on his arms. You saw his pupils inflate like a balloon.

“So um, do you have practice today?” He asked, biting his bottom lip and giving you a tentative smile.

“Nah, coach called in sick today. Do you wanna go to Mickey-D’s?” You ask. The school lane was almost empty now, buses leaving to drop off the kids.

“Sure, I don’t have no work today anyways.” He stuffed his hands in his pocket. He was a handsome boy, and you felt extremely lucky that someone like him had asked you to do him in the backseat of a car. Not only that but he was sweet but not enough to not stand up for himself or the others. With a start, you realised that he wasn’t like the other boys in your school.

Handing him his smoke back, you let your hands linger on his shoulder for a moment, cupping his cheek. You leaned in, feeling his hands twitch, and kissed him. It felt nice.

#arvin russel x reader #arvin russell smut #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell x you #arvin russell x reader smut #arvin russel x y/n #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker smut #spideygirl writes

[dyinglikenarcissus]

It’s my birthday!!!! *insert music here*

So this is my story for Samtember since we share a birthday. It’s mostly for me and it’s probably not my best work but I enjoyed writing it. The prompt I used was baking but I’m using birthday too because of reasons. Any mistakes are my own.

WARNING: 18+ readers ONLY! Contains: smut, reader is a sucker for punishment but it’s pretty mild stuff, cursing, let me know if I missed something. You’re responsible for the content you consume.

Please don’t copy or repost my work, thanks! Plagiarism is rude!

5k word count

Enjoy!

Chocolate Hazelnut

Ugh! This rain! You groan to yourself as you fix your slipping, wet heel and tugging your coat a little tighter around your body. The one day you forget your umbrella. You huddle under an awning and watch the droplets pour out in front of you. You should’ve just stayed a work for a couple hours longer and missed the daily downpour but you were in such a rush to get out of there. That new guy, Rumlow, was constantly breathing down your neck, leering no matter what you wore. And you’d gotten so used to dressing like a little whore for your boss. All your tiny pencil skirts and low cut blouses were promptly moved to the back of the closet when Natasha told you she caught him taking pictures of your ass. Steve didn’t seem to mind the wardrobe switch but he was old fashioned like that. The little peeks of your knees and elbows always got him going more than your thongs and push up bras ever could.

Yet another day of shameless but unsuccessful flirting with your hunky blond beast of a boss. At this point you were so pent up and wound up, you’d get yourself off on his thigh just to get something from him. His thick, muscular, huge thigh. You bite your burgundy painted bottom lip just thinking about it. You’re pretty sure the water on your body is steaming just from how heated your skin is. Too bad your smutty thoughts can’t block the rain.

But nothing will ever happen between you two. He’s too morally honest to mess around with a subordinate and you’re too shy to truly tempt him. So the thoughts stay in the limbo that is your mind under lock and key.

You let out a soft puff of air and focus on the area across the street.

That’s new.

You focus on the business across the street. A bakery?

There’s a grand opening sign in the window beckoning you into the dry warmth. You look down the street both ways before dashing across the road already hoping that they have pretty cupcakes and airy pastries to make your day moderately better.

As soon as you walk in, the sugary smell of vanilla and cinnamon hit your senses like a warm hug.

“Welcome to P&D! How can I help you?” A cheery dark skinned woman greets. Black owned? You felt at home already.

“Hi,” you grin. “I was headed home and I noticed your grand opening sign. And that it’s not raining in here,” you giggle.

“Well, it’s always nice to see a new face! We’ve got coffee if you’re looking to warm up.”

“Oh, yes,” you readily agree. “What else is good? It smells amazing in here.”

“Well, my brother just finished a batch of his famous sweet corn cupcakes and I’d recommend the cream cheese croissants if you want something more savory.”

You light up instantly at both options. “I’ll take both,” you smile. You order the cupcake to go and take the cup of coffee and croissant to a little table near the window. You liked it here already. You write a glowing review on Yelp while you wait out the rain and enjoy your midday treat.

You sigh softly noticing the rain starting to let up just as you empty your coffee cup.

“Need a refill?” A deep sultry voice asks prompting you to look up. Oh! Chocolate skin, high cheek bones, a ruler could only wish to be as straight as that goatee. You bite back a moan just looking at him.

“Yes please,” you whisper. He smirks at you and tops off your cup.

“So, how’d you like it?” He asks pulling the carafe back near his chest and you notice just how big his arms are. And his chest. Oh, and that thick neck. You can imagine your nails raking across it as he fucks you into a coma.

“Huh?” You ask dumbly completely lust drunk from just looking at this god of a man.

He chuckles softly showing off a set of perfect teeth with a cute little gap that you wanted to explore with your tongue but the sound of his laughter pulls you out of your stupor. “I’m sorry. My mind was a little…preoccupied. It was amazing. I wish Starbucks sold these things.”

“Thanks,” he smiles. ��I appreciate the compliment. Sam,” he introduces himself holding out a large hand. You take it and your hand feels so tiny in his as you introduce yourself. “You got the sweet corn cupcake, right?” You nod pointing at little pink box on the table. “That’s one of my favorites. I hope you like that one, too. I’ll tell you a secret: the base is cornered mix.”

“Really?” You lift a brow at the man.

He nods. “My sister said I always made cornbread too sweet so I decided to put some frosting on it.”

You blink in realization. “You’re the baker?”

“That I am.”

“Oh wow,” you giggle in awe. “I feel like I have to try the cupcake now and give you my opinion.

“Let me get you a fork,” he grins and walks back behind the counter. You watch the woman who took your order laugh at him and he just shakes his head before telling her to hush.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” the woman frowns before cheerily greeting a customer.

“Here, baby girl,” he smirks handing you a bamboo fork.

“‘Baby girl’?” You question. “Wouldn’t want your girl to hear that.”

“‘My girl’?” He sneers making you gesture to the woman taking down a birthday cake order. “Sarah?” He almost chokes on nothing. “Oh god, no! Not my girl! She’s my sister.”

Sister? “Sister?” You repeat not realizing the words escaped your lips. He chuckles lightly at your response.

“Yup. Little sister. And brains behind this whole operation I’d still just be making cookies for the kids on the block if it wasn’t for her. But between the two of us,” he lowers his voice and leans in just enough to get a whiff of his spicy cologne, “I still make those kids cookies.”

You smile at his admissions. “Well, they are the future,” you agree. You finally fork a piece of the sweet, getting a hefty bit of frosting with it. You audibly moan as the flavors hit your palette. Sweet corn cake and cream cheese frosting.

“That good?” He smirks

“Fucking delicious,” you whimper and suck the fork clean. He bites his bottom lip and gives you suggestive smirk. He opens his mouth and immediately starts to take back whatever he’s going to say. “What?” You smile.

“I have a feeling you’d like something a little richer.”

“Oh really?” You smirk. “You’re so sure of what I like?”

“I have a good sense for these things. I’m thinking chocolate mousse. A hazelnut cream.” Maybe he did have a sense for these things. “What are you doing this weekend?”

You smile, “Nothing.” Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

“Why don’t you come by and taste test some things?”

Oh my god!

It’s been years since someone asked you out. Let alone someone you were actually attracted to.

“I’d like that,” you whisper earning a wide grin from him.

That was how you met. The two of you had been inseparable ever since. He was so easy to get along with. He always took control of situations you were uncomfortable in. He always talked you through your feeling instead letting an argument start.

He was perfect as far as you were concerned.

And tonight was finally the night.

Ever since he promised you that cake, he’d been working diligently at the bakery to perfect it. You were a tough client. You normally avoided dairy. Stepping into his shop was the first time you’d indulged in years. So creating this vegan hazelnut chocolate cake was proving to be an enjoyable challenge for him.

He’d beckon you to the shop after you got off work to ask your opinion on flavors. They were always good but he always felt like something was off. You just trusted his process and let him work his magic.

Then he sent you a text one Thursday that he wanted you over for dinner Saturday night. You smiled at your phone during a meeting and quickly replied with a yes.

“What has you so happy?” Your boss asks when you can’t seem to keep the pep out of your step.

“Just excited for the weekend,” you smile up at the blond who just gives you an amused look.

You arrive at Sam’s place with with a bottle of wine. He told you not to bring anything but you felt odd about showing up empty handed. You hesitated outside of his door. Tonight was the night for sure. ‘Dinner at his place’ was a recipe for things to go down. You’d gotten waxed, showered thoroughly, and spritzed on your favorite perfume all over. You were ready for whatever he had to offer and you were sure it was that.

Sam was such a romantic. Who knew ex-service men could have such soft side. He brought you flowers and opened every door. He fed you pastries over coffee and made sure you made it home safely every night. You weren’t used to this kind of dotting. But every once in a while the military in him came out and left you gushing.

You were just joking around, claiming you’d start going to the bakery on the other side of town if Sam didn’t start stocking more dairy free options when that sharp “young lady,” rang out of his mouth. Your panties were completely ruined and he had no idea what his strong tone was doing to you. “You’re just looking for a punishment, aren’t you?” He asked standing so close you could feel his body heat warming you. You can only bite your bottom lip and hope he follows through. That’s when you had your first make out session and god he was so close to taking you right there over his bakery’s counter. But a customer called to order a cake and completely ruined it.

But tonight!

No bakery. No sister. No customers. Just the two of you. And food!

You grin to yourself. You’re more excited more than anything but worry still gnawed. It probably does for everyone in a fresh relationship that’s about to move on to the next chapter. To watch the progression of innocent memes over text turned into longing and explicit late night messages that left you moaning against your vibrator but in person he was always so respectful.

You were ready for him to get a little rowdy with you.

A sigh escapes your lips as you raise your hand to knock. Squeezing your eyes shut, your fist meets the wooden door. Moments later, that tall dark hunk of chocolate opens the door and you lose your breath. “Hey, baby,” he greets with a warm smile.

“Hi,” you giggle and let him pull you into a kiss. Those lips were unbelievable! They always mold so perfectly to yours with just the right amount of pressure. You can’t help but moan into his mouth and he instinctively wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you that much closer. You hands glide up his chest to his neck, massaging the corded muscles under your finger tips. His hands practically seer your skin as they grip possessively. He doesn’t need to prove that he owns you. He already has you wrapped around his finger.

“Come in,” he finally invites after pulling away. You bite your bottom lip and force yourself not to jump in for more.

You had all night.

You slip off your heels by the door before he helps you shrug off your coat. “Wow,” he exhales softly. “You look gorgeous.”

“This old thing?” you smile shyly glancing down at your black skinny jeans and cropped corset top.

“I love it,” he assures you and guides you further into the home with a hand at your lower back. Heat radiates from his touch and you feel your body flush. “Since you are on a very strict diet and you keep threatening to leave me for other bakers, I made all your favorites: catfish, greens, cornbread, baked mac and cheese. And for dessert my brand new double chocolate hazelnut torte inspired by a beautiful double chocolate hazelnut woman. All vegan pescatarian friendly.”

“Sam,” you giggle and kiss his cheek softly, “you’re trying to kill me!” Your eyes widen at the spread of mouth watering food across his kitchen island.

“I’m trying to win you over,” he corrects and pulls out a chair for you.

“Well, you’re definitely winning,” you mutter making him smirk.

“Sit. I’ll fix you a plate.” You eyes widen at him again. You can’t remember the last time someone made you a plate. Maybe your mom when you were little but recently…

Sam places a heavily laden plate in front of you. God it all looks so delicious.

You go for the mac and cheese first. You haven’t had it in years and it was always one of your favorite sides. It didn’t look like how your auntie made it but you were so deprived of the cheesy goodness, you’d take anything.

You can’t stop the moan that your body emits once the flavors hit your pallet. “Damnit Samuel!” You curse, leveling a glare at him. “I can’t let you go if you’re going to cook like this.”

“That’s the idea,” he grins at you, showing off that little gap, and settles in the seat next to yours. “And I don’t share my recipes. So if you want something,” his amber gaze rakes in your form from top to bottom making your core clench before he’s even touched you, “you’re gonna have to come and get it.”

You would’ve jumped on him right then and there if there wasn’t a table in the way.

Everything was delicious. You don’t think you’ve eaten that much in one sitting in your life.

“You save room for dessert?” Sam smirks picking up your empty plate.

“I can clean up,” you offer, standing to meet his chest.

“Sit, little momma. I got you,” he insists and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. If you could blush, you would as you feel the heat rush to your face.

“But you cooked,” you whisper sheepishly.

“Let me take care of you,” he mutters before meeting your lips once more. “You’re so sweet, girl,” he hums. “Like sugar. I don’t want to take my mouth off of you.” He says it like a threat but you hope he follows through with it. “Now, sit.”

You obey and let him take care of the plates and food before returning with the prettiest cake you’ve ever seen. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful! You can’t cut it!” You protest pulling out your phone to get pictures from every angle.

“Oh, yes I can! I’ve been waiting weeks to massacre this thing,” Sam chuckles and waits for your mini photoshoot to end. “It was a struggle but I’d do it again in a heartbeat for you, sugar.”

You could faint.

You could die happy knowing this man was willing to put everything he knew about baking to the test to accommodate you.

He places a slice of cake and a mug of coffee in front of you before plating some for himself. You watch him, not yet taking a bite until he sits and takes a sip of coffee. “Well?” He asks making you smile and solidify your decision. You push your plate and mug next to his before uncurlIng from your seat to wiggle into his lap. Sam’s strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. You release a content sigh and finally try this white whale of a cake.

The second the flavors hit your tongue you stop chewing and let out an involuntary squeak. “This has dairy,” you insists.

“It doesn’t.”

“There’s no way this doesn’t have dairy!”

“Well, I’m a miracle worker.”

“I’ve had every vegan cake in the book and they all taste like vegan cake. This has dairy, Sam.”

“This is a completely vegan cake, sugar,” he laughs.

“How?” You breathe and take another bite. Actual heaven. It was moist and creamy and light. It makes you whimper and you press your lips to Sam’s cheek appreciatively. “How did you do this? It’s fucking amazing! Vegan cake is always so dry and dense but this is like eating a cloud! Fuck!” You groan licking your fork clean.

“I told you, I’m not giving you any of my recipes. If you want something, you’ll have to get it from me.” A seductive smirk graces his lips and you kiss him again.

“Thank you. I don’t think any man has ever gone to such lengths for me.”

“Sugar, I’ll make sure you never miss dairy again.”

Your lips meet his once more and you forget all about the cake. His chocolate is all you want right now.

Both of your hands cup his face as you pull him deeper into you. Teeth clash and tongues mingle and before you know it, your thighs are straddling his hips, your covered core twitching to grind against his.

As if he reads your mind, his big hands glide down your body to cup your ass and press your hips tight against his. Your gasp breaks the kiss when you feel just how hard and big he’s gotten for you. You press your forehead to his and your hips make a tentative circle and a soft hiss escapes Sam’s lips.

“I need to be inside of you,” Sam groans and kisses down your jaw to your throat.

“Please,” you whisper as he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin. A heavy moan escapes your lips as the feelings mingle.

Your panties are soaked, a fresh wave of your essence layers in them with every touch. And there’s an itch there you just can’t scratch as you continue to grind against him. “Please please please,” you continue to whisper as he unhooks your top letting your naked breast fall free.

“I got you, sugar,” Sam promises and his lips wrap around one of your pert nipples.

“Sammy,” you cry, that tight coil in your stomach almost breaking you and he still hasn’t touched anywhere near your core. “I need you in me!” It happens so quickly you almost get dizzy at how fast he lifts you up, gripping the backs of your thighs as he carries you into the depths of his house.

Sam drops you on a plush bed and his lips are back at your neck as he unbuttons your jeans. A quick tug and you’re left in just a lacy thong. You lose your breath as a finger come in contact with your covered core. “You’re soaked, sugar,” Sam whispers against your skin. “Can I help you with that?” You nod, trying to hold back your moans. He presses your panties to the side and a long finger runs the length of your folds. Your hips buck against his hand and he tuts at you. “None of that. I’m taking my time with you and this pretty pussy.” Your whimpers turn into a soft cry when his finger finally pushes into you. “Fuck, you’re soak,” he groans fucking you with his hand.

He soon adds a second finger and begins exploring your most sensitive region. He runs his fingers along your upper walls while his thumb works you pulsing clit and sends you into a frenzy. Your hand flies to your mouth once he finds what he’s looking for. That little spongy spot inside you that he’s going to use to ruin you is now the focus of his attention.

“Hey,” Sam barks noticing your cries have become muffled and lessened. “I wanna hear you. You’ve got to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard and I don’t want to miss a second of it.” You pry your hand from your face and release a string of moans as he continues to play with you trying to keep a tight grip on your release. “Why are you fighting it, sugar? Let go. Make a mess all over my hand. There you go,” he praises once that coil finally snaps leaving your walls fluttering around him and you close to tears.

He leaves you whining under him and it feels like so much. Your legs shake before slamming closed around his arm.

“Oh, no you don’t. Open up,” Sam says spanking your hip lightly. You let out a soft whimper as you fight your instinct to get away and open back up for him. “Good girl.” Your eyes are squeezed shut while you try not to fall completely apart under this man but the last straw hits you when you feel Sam’s hot mouth wrap around your clit.

You actually scream.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“That’s it, sugar,” you hear him mutter into your thigh. “Let it out.” You’ve never been brought back to the edge so quickly in your life. With his tongue circling your clit and his deft fingers fucking into you, you feel that coil spring back to life. Your incoherent pleas fill the air and Sam happily obliges pulling one more earth shattering orgasm out of you before kissing up your stomach. He pauses between your breast, kissing both, before meeting your lips and letting you taste yourself. “I think you’re ready for me,” he deduces while pulling off your destroyed underwear.

You can only nod, barely meeting his gaze, you’re so blitzed out it makes him smirk. He pulls away to finally strip for you.

You can focus on that.

His dark skin is stretched over rock hard muscles that bulge with every movement. “You like what you see, sweet thing?” You nod eagerly. “Can’t even talk,” he jokes and presses his jeans down his hips.

You may not be able to find your voice but you can still gasp. And whimper.

He’s huge.

“Don’t worry, sugar. You’re nice and wet. I’ll slide right in.” You look at his face then back down at the object he intends on putting inside you then back at his face making him laugh. “Calm down. We’ll go slow.”

“Okay,” you whisper finding your voice again. You get up on your knees and beckon him back to the edge of the bed. You place a soft kiss to the middle of his chest, feeling those hard muscles under your lips. You let the kisses get a little sloppier as they trail down to his groin. His dark tip is already leaking and waiting for you and you can’t help but taste.

“Fuck,” Sam groans above you as you wrap your lips around his tip. There’s no way that entire thing will fit in your mouth but you were going to try anyway.

Sam’s big hand wraps around your throat loosely, massaging your jaw as you gather saliva to cover his monster cock. You take him as far as you can before your hand has to take over for what you can’t reach. “So good for me,” Sam mutters pulling your mouth down a little close with each bob of your head. You know what he wants. You practiced this with cucumbers and bananas but those weren’t as thick as eggplants.

You pull off to take a shuttering breath and gather your courage before diving back in with a relaxed throat and hollowed cheeks. “God damn, sugar!” Sam curses as tears spill from your eyes mixing with the saliva running down your chin. You know you’re a mess but you’d tear yourself apart to make him happy. He squeezes your throat slightly as it bulges around his length. He must be able to feel himself through your thin skin. “That’s it, baby girl. Makin’ me feel so good.” You hum softly as you try to remind yourself to breathe through your nose making him curse and pull you off of him. “I’m too close for that. Let me inside.” You nod and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“I had a vasectomy. Do I still need a condom?” He asks as he picks you up from your kneeling position to arrange you more comfortably on the bed.

“Really? No, I guess not,” you smile shyly. It was rare that men took the initiative when it came to birth control.

“Good. I want to feel you.” Your shy smile turns into a full grin as you open yourself for him. He’s true to his word and goes so slow for you, cresting your entrance with his head before rocking his hips into you. You don’t even notice it once he’s fully sheathed in you. You just feel full. Wonderfully full.

“You doing okay, sweet girl?”

“I’m perfect,” you sigh and rock your hips against his.

“That’s my job,” Sam smirks as his thrust meet your small movements. It takes a few tries but he finally hits something in you that immobilizes you. Sam hums in smug delight as he hits it again and you keen, arching against the bed. “When are you going to learn to sit back and let me take care of you?” He asks as he purposefully aims for that spot over and over making you cry for more while attempting to push him away. “Am I going to have to fuck that out of you?” You only writhe under him as your vision starts to go black. “Hey. Find your words. Answer me.”

He holds both your wrists in one of his big hands over your head while fucking you senseless. “Yes!” You cry. You’ll agree to anything as he tears you apart. “Please! Fuck it out of me! I’ll be a good girl!” You promise. You’ll promise him anything.

“Good girls cum when they’re told. Are you gonna cum all over me?”

“Yes, Sammy! Fuck! I’m gonna-“ you voice breaks as you fall apart all over him, your body tensing as he continues to fuck you. His thrusts get sloppy as he chases his own release.

“Fuck!” He roars and you feel his hot essence fill you to the brim. You writhe at feeling. No man has ever cum inside you and you were officially addicted to it.

You fingers claw up to his shoulders for him once his release stops alongs with your spasming core. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here,” Sam promises and pulls you close, turning so you’re both on your sides. “How you feeling? You need anything?”

You cuddle further into, loving the scent and feel of your spent bodies in their shared afterglow. “Wanna stay like this forever,” you mutter tiredly.

Sam only chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Let me clean you up at least.” You shake your head in protest and he gives you a stern look. Your eyes widen as your pussy responds to the possible threat. “You’re a little sucker for punishment, aren’t you?” Sam laughs feeling you clench around his still sheathed dick.

“Maybe,” you whisper.

“Well, I have a whole closet full of toys if you think you’re really ready to be naughty,” he admits making you gasp and attempt to milk his spent cock again. “Next time, sugar,” Sam laughs at how eager your body is. “Right now, I need you to close your eyes and relax for me.” You nod and he slips himself from you, climbing out of the bed only to return shortly to dab a wet cloth over your sensitive folds. You didn’t notice how tender you were until now and his gentle touch leaves you cringing away from him. Sam finally rejoins you and makes you sit up to drink some water. “You good?” He asks once more.

“I want the rest of my cake.” He actually bursts into laughter making you smile.

“Alright, sugar. Let’s go finish that cake.

“I gotta make sure my girl eats,” Sam smile when he delivered lunch and a cupcake to your office for you after you forgot your lunch at home.

“Really, Sammy. You didn’t need to,” you insist but you were happy for the excuse to see him. The two of you were almost inseparable to the point you were considering quitting your job to work at the bakery.

“I needed an excuse to see my girl,” he smirks and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” Oh no.

“Stevie,” Sam grins. “I snuck in to bring my girl lunch.” No! Why does your boss know your boyfriend? Why are they so familiar? Why are they hugging?

“Um…” you whisper watching the two in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” Sam apologizes. “Steve and I go way back.”

“We served together,” Steve smiles. “So you must be ‘Sugar’?”

“Um!” You squeak and bury your face in your hands leaving both men to chuckle at your expense.

“Now that you have a date, you should bring her over for dinner. Buck would love to have a fresh mouth to feed.”

“Sure. So he can glare at her all night,” Sam answers sarcastically but it’s a joke that goes completely over your head.

“Besides, I was hoping you’d make vegan peanut butter cake?” The blond says hopefully completely ignoring the dig your boyfriend just gave him.

“Sugar, would you like to go over to your boss’s house for dinner so his deranged husband can stare at you all night and eat peanut butter cake of all things?” Sam asks and you stare at him for a second as if he’d grown a second head. “That’s what I thought-“

“Make it a caramel cake and I’ll go,” you answer cutting off him off.

“Bucky loves caramel!” Steve smiles. “Next weekend?” Sam only groans and drags his hand over his face.

“You just want to play taste tester again but I have other friends, you know,” Sam protests.

“Sure, you do,” Steve grins and starts back toward his office. “I’ll let Buck know! Maybe invite those other friends of yours.”

Sam groans and shakes his head making you smile. “Caramel cake!” You remind him excitedly, clapping your hands.

“You could’ve said no. You’re definitely getting a whooping for that one,” Sam frowns making you clench around nothing. “That’s right, sugar. Prepare that cute little ass. She’s got a date with a crop tonight.”

A soft whimper escapes your lips and your panties flood.

“I have to get back,” he smirks triumphantly.

“No! Wait! Please-“ you start to beg but he cuts you off.

“You think I’m gonna let you cum?” He scoffs and bends down to kiss you. “I think a week of no cumming is a perfect punishment,” he whispers against your lips and the noise you make has all of your coworkers looking in your direction.

You watch you boyfriend leave already eager for tonight’s torture.

Dividers by firefly-graphics

#samtember #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x female reader #sam wilson x f!reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x black!reader

[wornoutmouse]

Aoyama smut (repost)

I'm honestly so glad someone else shares my love for blond belly button boi. Now I can indulge my Headcanons with abandon. All flirting in here is sickeningly corny, also this was a little longer than I meant it to be. Curse me and my attention to plot.

It got a little yandere ngl. I didn’t quite understand what you meant by hot blooded. Bakugou came to mind but that seems very out of character for Aoyama so it slowly but surely translated to jealousy here.

Welcome to DFS, Dom Femboy Supremacy

The word bitch is used, degradation, Dubious, overstim

You stand on the corner of the plaza waiting for Yuga. Your yellow skirt, being blown by the spring breeze, tickled your legs. It was frillier than anything you were used to, but Aoyama was adamant about you wearing it today, along with a  sleeveless baby blue top.

"Hello, my love!" The sound of heels fill your ears as your roommate comes closer. You watched amused as a pair of black ankle boots came into view. "It's about time you got here, we live together yet you always arrive late." Aoyama scoffed while fluffing his golden locks. "You can't rush art."

Aoyama dawned a slightly flirtatious look as he finally stood before you. "You're just jealous you could never get on my level." His blue eyes traveled down your outfit. "It looks like you got my present." You brushed imaginary dirt from your blouse. "Yeah, it's cute or whatever. Now come on I'm tired of standing here."

The two of you strutted down the street, drawing stares from everyone you passed. It was exhilarating and overwhelming at the same time. You watched in awe as Aoyama ate up the attention, the crop top he wore exposed his tight stomach and belly button that shone in the sunlight. His aura turned the street into a runway as he walked.

Busy in your own thoughts, you failed to notice him stop and ran into his shoulder. He glanced at you briefly before pointing across the street, "I'm thinking coffee first movies after?" You raise your hand to shelf your face from the sun and gawk at the large Starbucks across the street.

"I see you're feeling bougie today." Aoyama shrugs unapologetically.

When you make it inside, you walk up to order, "Don't forget my soy!" Aoyama reminds you, making you gag. "I don't see how you drink that stuff.” Your host today was a very handsome young man . He was the literal definition of tall dark and handsome as his luminous eyes gazed down at you. In the midst of staring, you notice cute swirly horns peeking from his amber curls.

“Yes, hello can I just get a grande Caramel Frappuccino and a soy latte?” The boy rang up your order and turned with a wink. “Coming right up, I’ll bring it right over to you.” You turn and walk to the table Aoyama chose. “He’s kinda cute don’t you think?”

Aoyama huffed and looked at his cuticles in a bored manner. “He’s alright I guess, a little creepy if you ask me.” You raise an eyebrow and peek a glance at the barista. You noted nothing off-putting about him as he laughed with a fellow coworker. Turning back to Aoyama you flinch as you come in contact with a strong glare.

“What?” Aoyama’s glare deepens and he says nothing as he raises both hands to his head before cooking his fingers to represent horns. You laughed as he struck a goofy face, “You are so weird.” Your barista comes up to your table and places your drinks down.

At the last moment, he pulls out a napkin and scribbles something on it with a broad smile. “This is for you.” You giggle softly as you accept the napkin only for it to be snatched from your hands by perfectly manicured french tips. “Sorry buddy, she’s taken.” Both you and the barista looked at Aoyama befuddled.

The blond man tucks the napkin in his back pocket as he maintains fierce eye contact. “Okay then..” The barista trails off, walking away as you awkwardly wave at him.

“What the hell was that?!” Aoyama shrugs as he sips his latte, “No flirting on our outings.”

You slouch in your seat with a frown, “You are no fun.” Your glowing irritation is doused as you sip your coffee. You moan joyfully as your taste buds are attacked by sweet caramel. Aoyama watches you from time to time as he takes many pictures of himself and his drink. “Say cheese!”

You look up with wide eyes and hold your drink in front of your face. Aoyama shakes his head and uses his index finger to push your cup down. “Don’t be shy, show that beautiful face.” You raise an eyebrow, “I’d be showing more than my face if you didn’t cockblock me!”

The sexual connotations behind your sentence doesn’t go unnoticed by Aoyama and a sour look comes across his face as he stands up suddenly. “I think I wanna go to the movies early.”

The look goes by you undetected as you stand to follow behind him. As you two head for the Starbucks exit, Aoyama stops and turns around with a tight smile.

“You know what, why don’t you go get our tickets and popcorn, I have to use the bathroom.” you clumsily grasp the money Aoyama shoves into your hands as the blond man walks towards the bathroom. “But...the movies have a bathroom too?”

Aoyama’s focus:

When he sees that you left, Aoyama leaves the bathroom corridor and walks to the front counter.

“Hey, kid.” The barista that served you two raised his head before walking over. “How may I help you?” When he got close enough, Aoyama’s hand shot out and gripped the front of his collared shirt.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you manners?! When you see a young lady on a date, you do not interrupt!” The man glares at Aoyama and grips the hands holding his shirt. “What are you even talking about?!” Something seems to dawn on the male as a cocky grin spreads across his face.

“Wait a minute. Your little ‘date’ seemed more interested in me than in you.” Aoyama’s gaze faltered, making the man smile harder. “I bet she doesn’t even know you like her does she?” The horned barista doesn’t wait for Aoyama’s answer as he pushes his hands off of him.

“Next time you want to make a point, make sure you have something to back it up.” The male straightens his uniform and grins at his curious coworkers. “Damn twink.”

Aoyama huffs angrily as the man walked off but decided to just simply let it go.

Your focus:

“Extra butter please.” you say joyfully as you order from the movie menu. Another worker comes to you holding your cinnamon pretzel bites. “Sweet Cinnamon bread bites for a sweet gal like you.” As you reach out to grab your box, it is promptly snatched by a pissed off Aoyama, “Let’s go.”

You quickly beacon for your popcorn and follow after your friend. “Yuga what’s wrong!?” He doesn’t say anything as he makes his way to your assigned movie room.

You sit next to him silently as the movie begins to start. It was a romance movie, much to your disdain, but Aoyama has always been a sucker for romance. This fact was even more evident as you watched his pent up anger slowly drain from his body as the movie went on. Half paying attention to the plot, half cracking jokes to make the mushy scenes less embarrassing, you find yourself secretly enjoying the movie.

As the movie comes closer to its end, you find your viewing interrupted as you feel something warm on your thigh. Aoyama’s thumb was rubbing circles on your leg as he watched the movie. You cleared your throat to get his attention but he only smiled at you before looking back at the movie.

“Okay, maybe this is just his way of showing he’s calmed down.” Is what you thought to yourself to keep from freaking out. ‘Ooo’s’ and ‘Ahh’s’ are drawn from the crowd as the leading man pushes his lover against the wall. Compared to other movies you watched where the love making was stale and stiff, this actually looked rather real.

Unable to take the cringe anymore, you stand up and excuse yourself to the bathroom. Walking there, you run into Kirishima and Jirou. “Oh my God, it’s so nice to see you guys, what are you doing here!?” The pair hugged you tightly but Jirou quickly  ran to the bathroom.

“Don’t forget our popcorn Kiri!” You laugh and turn back to the redhead, “Me and Jirou are here for the new robot movie.” You nodded in understanding. “I didn’t know you liked robots.” Kirishima shook his head, “I don’t.” He suddenly tugs you forward with a smirk and whispers in your ear.

Aoyama focus:

You were taking an awful long time in his opinion so he stood up to find out where you were. As he steps out of the door, he quickly spots you and Kirishima talking rather closely.

He grit his teeth and tried to calm himself down.

You had to be kidding. It was man after man with you and he had had about enough of it. He’d been planning this for a month even taking time out of his hero work to spend a week with you,  but you couldn’t pay attention to him even for a day!?

Instead you were giving useless nobodies attention!

Aoyama quickly caught himself realising that one of the ‘nobodies’ was a close friend of his. He quickly walks up to the two of you and grabs your arm before walking towards the exit.

You tried to reason with him but your protests were ignored as he dragged you along the street. As you two got closer to home, you waited in hopes that the blond man would talk about what happened. But he doesn’t, in fact, he ignores you entirely.

“Yuga, you’ve been acting weird all day, what’s this about!?”

Aoyama calmly opened the door, effectively hiding the simmering anger that he could feel boiling just below his skin.

When you walked in, he wasted no time dragging you into the living room and pushing you onto the couch, effectively causing you to flash your panties to him. You scramble to push your dress back down but it was already too late.

Aoyama crossed his arms and glared at you with fire that could rival Bakugo’s. “You don’t know what you do to me do you?” You shook your head not willing to tip-toe around the issue that was obviously at hand.

Aoyama got on his knees and caged you between the couch and himself as he looked down at you. Harsh fingers grip your chin as perfectly arched eyebrows narrowed at you, “Walking around with that darling face of yours, pretending that you are so oblivious to the lustful looks you get.” Aoyama sneered.

“Or maybe that's what you want? You want people to look at these gorgeous legs and fantasise what it would be like to be in between them.”

As he spoke, his smooth hands stroked up your bare legs making your skirt slide up your thigh. “Then again I suppose it is my fault for buying you such a revealing item.”

You swallowed shallowly as you watched Aoyam’s blue eyes become distant as if he was in deep thought. You shivered as you felt the cool air of the room brush against your underwear which was shamefully damp.

You had never seen your friend like this and you won't deny that it was even more enticing than the scene at the movies. His steel blue eyes sharply cut to you making your heart skip a few beats. “Alright then, if you want to be adored by those with selfish desires, I will grant your wish.”

Your left leg is raised firmly before being raised high enough to be placed on Aoyama’s shoulder. You try to cover your nethers with your hands, but this only annoyed Aoyama. “Oh, you were willing to let that damn barista have a taste but I can’t?”

You shook your head, “It’s not like that it’s just..” you trailed off. How were you supposed to tell your friend that  you were so desperate for him that you soiled his furniture. Aoyama lowered his eyes and stared at your crotch.

Expecting him to tease you, you were shocked when your cunt was slapped. "Who is this for? The batista? Or Kirishima?!" You shook your head, wincing as you felt your clit being harshly tapped once again.

Aoyama roughly pulls your underwear to the side and stares at your quivering hole. You cover your eyes embarrassed and the only thing you could hear was ragged breaths as your lower body is tugged forward by the thin fabric of your panties.

"L-Look if you're going to stare then I don't want any part of it!" You shift your legs to the right in an attempt to take them off of Aoyama's shoulders but his hand comes to hold your butt.

"You must forgive me, you're my first woman in a while." The pad of his tongue is rough as it drags up your moist labia. Light feelings of pleasure heat up your cunt as he laps at your juices like a man starved.

Aoyama places a kiss on your hidden bud before smiling. His blue eyes gaze at you through fair lashes. "I never understood the term sweet being used during oral, it's always salty." Aoyama sticks his tongue out and allows saliva to drip from it.

The feeling of it sliding down your pussy was sinfully erotic. "But that slutty face you're making makes up for it. In fact, I could spend hours down here just to see that look." Aoyama pressed his middle finger inside as he spoke, and you inadvertently tightened as the demeaning names left his mouth.

"Oh, what's this?" The pad of Yuga's thumb circled your clit as he placed his face to the curve of your neck. His voice deepened an octave as he spoke against the shell of your ear. "You like it when I call you a slut? What about a whore?"

His finger sped up hitting different places against your walls. As he worked you open, numerous names left his mouth on a mission to get you to tighten once again. "You were denying it earlier but I'm glad that you know your place Y/n. A little cumdump for the masses aren't you?"

You moaned as Aoyama's fingers finally found that spongy place within you. He mouthed at your soft skin as his fingers rubbed experimentally against the area. "So it really does feel different from everywhere else." Aoyama goes back to his stabbing pace, this time focusing on that exact part.

You clamp your legs in pleasure, pulling his lower body against you. The dirty talk continues as you feel yourself cumming on his finger. "There you go, such an easy bitch in heat aren't you?"

Aoyama doesn't stop fingering you, thoroughly engaged in making you suffer from overstimulation. With his other hand he unbuckles his designer belt and slides his jeans down. You whimper at the thought of being fucked right after an orgasm but either Aoyama didn't hear you or he didn't care.

Behind you, he reaches into a pocket in the couch and pulls out a condom. "I'm usually not the one giving so my pull out game is not something to rely on."

You cry out as you cum again, body convulsing from another g-spot orgasm. You were not used to these, usually being able to come from clitoral stimulation, so each one was hitting you hard.

Aoyama busied himself rolling the condom on his dick as he pushes another finger in and thrusts with a twisting motion.

"Ao-Aoyam...ehh!!" You are unable to finish your sentence as your body is unable to identify the pain from the pleasure. Aoyama looked at you stoically, he wasn't stopping until he himself had cum at least once. "What's wrong? I'm sure a hole like you can handle two measly orgasms."

Aoyama tutted with a mocking tone as he pinches your clit, "Or have those big oafs you've slept with not making you cum? How sad."

You finally gain relif when his fingers retreat. Your breasts are massaged and Aoyama latches onto a nipple, rolling it around with his tongue. You feel his cock pressing into you without hesitation and it doesn't stop till he's at the hilt.

"I know a little brat like you is probably used to bigger dicks but you're just going to have to deal with this one." Aoyama removed his shirt and your eyes caught onto two glimmering piercings settled discreetly on his chest.

You grip onto the couch below you as Aoyama snaps his hips forward without warning. His thrusts are as rhythmless as a heartbeat and his hands fiddle with his bedazzled nipples, moaning from his own pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as you feel your spot being hit directly on each thrust, and you soon realize, his dick is curved. As it goes in, it goes up and you cum harder once again. "Yuga,, I-shit- it's too much, I can't!"

The pleasure coursing through you is almost unbearable but Aoyama laughs in your face. He grabs your hands and places it in the middle of his chest as he holds onto one of your legs. "Too much? But you're squeezing so tight around me, almost begging me not to go."

Aoyama thrusts at a different, more coordinated pace. "Your cunt is better than any ass I've ever had. I have to admit ma cherie!" You're halfway off the couch as Aoyama ducks your harder into the seat.

The power behind his hips is that of a dancer and bright stars shine behind your eyelids on each impact. Aoyama's lips find yours and he kisses you.

It's a mild contrast to his normal personality.

It's not sweet or caring but demanding in every sense. It leaves you breathless as Yuga explores your mouth, as if he was marking it at his. You scream into his mouth as another orgasm waves over you but he swallows it up as his teeth bite down on your bottom lip.

"You like what I'm giving you ha? You're… You were wasting time with those other assholes when I can dick you down just as good as any. Call me a fucking Twink!? Well this twink can make a girl cum more than you will in a lifetime."

It was clear he wasn't talking to you as his eyes refocused. Aoyama looked at you. Your face is drowning in tears as another orgasm flows over you.

At this point, the orgasms feel mixed together as you are unable to think coherently. The only thing going through your mind is the feeling of his shaft rubbing against your walls so fast, it could start a fire.

Aoyama showed no sign of nearing his end. He just suddenly stopped and you could feel the condom protecting you two become slightly warmer and swelling. Aoyama pulls out slowly and ties it up before laying you properly on the couch.

When you could speak, all you said was "I just….. I just got railed by a man in 4-inch pumps." Aoyama smirked as you looked at the ceiling. "Yeah…. And it's going to happen again cause I'm still hard."

You weakly smack him and shake your head, "I can't believe you like me. Why didn't you just say anything." Yuga felt his nerves twitching, "You're the densest person I know don't make me answer that."

In actuality, it occurred to Aoyama that he never did tell you in the first place. Also that he was in fact, still hard

#aoyama smut #mha x black reader #mha smut #bnha x black!reader #bnha smut #aoyama x black reader

[crackheadgeminibby]

jealous

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: age gap, language

word count: 2k

a/n: this lowkey sucks and i’m sorry for that but i really wanted to post it🤭

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You’re sitting on your couch, eating popcorn and watch Fresh Prince reruns when your phone starts to ring. As expected.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, where the hell are you? You said you would come.” You groan loudly. “I know, but I started to feel kind of sick and I didn’t want to get everyone else sick, you know?”

There’s a pause at the other end of the phone for a couple of seconds before, “You’re such a liar. You’re never sick.” You roll your eyes at that. Of course he would know that.

Ah yes, Scott Evans, your best friend of multiple years. You had met in college and practically hated each other at first. You both were very sarcastic people and it annoyed each of you in the beginning, but you ended bonding because you were the only people that really understood each other’s humour.

“Fine, I just didn’t want to come, okay? I’m tired and I just wanted to chill at home.”

“But Y/N, you never miss the mid-summer barbeque. My mom keeps asking when you’re getting here. And I freaking miss you. Just like pop over and eat a burger or something than you can go back to your popcorn and your cat boyfriend.”

“Hey! Leave Mr. Business alone, he didn’t go anything to you.”

Scott bursts into laughter at that.

“Okay, okay, sorry Mr. Business. But Y/N, seriously, please, just come for a while.”

You groan even louder than the first time, “Fine. But I’m eating a hot-dog and fruit salad and then I’m leaving.”

“Yes! Okay, see you in 30!”

You hang up the phone and reluctantly get up from your couch, headed to take a shower.

You normally didn’t mind going to Lisa’s house because you adored Scott’s family. Since the beginning, they had all been so nice and welcoming to you. Well, you know, except Chris.

Chris and you did not get along, to say the least. He annoyed the shit out of you, always showing up with a new bimbo on his arm, making out like there’s no tomorrow in front of everybody. Like, literally. Every single time you saw him, he was with a new girl. He also spent the entire time you were at the house taking digs at you. Always for different reasons, which kudos for the originality, but they were always increasingly mean. This meant that you could never stay too long when Chris was there or you would lose your shit, like at that one Christmas dinner. Oof, bad memories.

As you’re standing in front of your closet, you contemplate all of your summer clothes. You end up deciding on a sheer long sleeve top and black dress. You rapidly do your hair and makeup as you hear Scott sending multiple texts, probably asking where you are.

You finally arrive at the house about 45 minutes later. You immediately head to the backyard, where lively noise and soft music are coming from.

As soon as you get in the backyard, you spot Scott, sitting on a chair, beer in hand, talking with his mom.

When he sees you, his face lights up and he excitedly waves you over.

“Hi guys!”

“Y/N! We were starting to think that you weren’t going to show up!”

You laugh slightly, “You know me, always have to make an entrance and all!”

You sit down on a chair next to them and listen distractedly as they continue with their conversation.

As you’re starting to think about getting yourself to eat, Chris enters the backyard with another one of his hook-ups, as on schedule. You roll your eyes slightly as you tell Scott and Lisa that you’ll be right back and head to the food table.

You’re distracted by the customization of your food and don’t realize that your seat is now occupied by your least favorite Evans.

“Um, excuse me. I was sitting there.”

Chris barely spares you a glance as his hook-up looks at you, offended, and scoffs. “So? There’s plenty of chairs in the backyard.”

“Okay, well, this chair has my phone on it so obviously I was going to come back to sit here, so move.”

Chris makes a mocking pout at you and says, “Oh, you’re right, sorry.” He then rolls his eyes and smirks, “Or not.”

You grind your jaw and swallow your pride. There’s no need to make a scene. You give Chris the fakest smile you can muster and bend down to take your phone from the chair’s drink holder and turn around to sit on the other side of the pool.

Unfortunately for you, this gives you a direct view of Chris’ make-out session. You shudder and groan as you direct your attention to the children playing in the pool.

After eating, you head to the cooler to get a beer but, of course, it’s empty.

Knowing that Scott always keeps a secret stash of his favorite beers in the basement, you leave your plate and phone on the chair before heading inside. As you go down the stairs, you remember that they didn’t have any light down here. Would have been pretty smart to bring your phone but, oh well, too late.

You get a bottle from the fridge before cracking it open on the door. You’re about to go back upstairs when a sound surprises you and you let out a scream while throwing a punch out in the dark.

“Ow, you hit my face! What the fuck is your problem?”

Of course it would be him.

“Well, you scared the shit out of me so not my fault.”

You skirt around him and head back upstairs. However, before you can pass through the kitchen and head back to the backyard, you feel a hand around your arm.

“Wait. I wanna talk to you for a second.”

You turn around and shake your arm out of his grip. You take a sip of your beer while you wait for him to speak. Chris sighs loudly before asking, “Why do you hate me?”

You choke on your beer before looking at him with wide eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re always super rude to me whenever you see me, and you always leave parties after like an hour when I’m here.”

“Okay, so we’re doing this.” Chris frowns in confusion at this.

“First of all, I don’t hate you, you just really annoy me. You’re always showing up with a new girl, always more plastic than the one before. You’re always eating their faces in front of everyone, which like, ew. And you’re the one that’s rude to me, by the way, so…”

You shrug and are ready to down your beer and leave when Chris whispers, “Wait, you don’t like that?”

“Why the fuck would I want to see you making out with a different girl every few weeks?”

“But Scott said that-” When he realizes what he’s saying, he stops abruptly and puts a hand in front of his mouth.

You tilt your head in confusion, “Scott said what?”

“Umm… Well, he said that… Uh, you liked bad boys?’

You feel heat making its way from your belly all the way up to your cheeks. You were attracted to the more edgy ones but what the hell did that have to do with anything?

“And?’

“Well… I thought that, you know, if I was like that, you would like me?”

Realization hits you and you mutter, “Oh my God, I’m way too sober for this shit.”

You gulp down the rest of your beer and try to think of what to say when you hear, “Baby, come back outside.”

Chris’ date saunters into the kitchen and glares at you as she practically hangs herself from his arm.

“Yeah, um, good luck with that,” you gesture to the girl next to Chris and finish with, “and I’m gonna go.”

You put your beer bottle in the trash and head to the backyard. You get your phone and rapidly say by to Scott and Lisa before practically running out to your car.

Once you’re back home, back in your pyjamas and watching TV, you ponder over your short conversation with Chris. It kind of made sense that he suddenly started acting all macho around you. The first few times you had met Chris, he had been pretty nice to you but was very reserved. You just assumed that fame had gotten to his head and that’s why he had started acting like that. You roll your eyes as you remember that Chris had said that he was acting like that because of Scott.

you, 6:45pm:

so why exactly and in what circumstances did you reveal my type to chris?

You put your phone down but almost immediately receive a response.

scott, 6:45pm:

I didn’t know you guys could have a conversation without murdering each other.

I don’t even remember talking about this with him

you, 6:46pm:

he told me that you told him that i liked “bad boys”

scott, 6:46pm:

Oh, that

I’m pretty sure I told him that like 15 years ago when you met him

You frown at this. He’s been acting like a dumbass for 15 years and for what? You shake your head as you look for Chris’ name in your phone contacts.

you, 6:47pm:

where are you right now?

You put your phone down and head to the kitchen to make yourself a quick snack to eat. As you’re washing the things you used, you hear a text message coming in.

christopher, 7:03pm:

I just got home.

Why?

you, 7:03pm:

we need to talk, come over

You were kind of nervous. Chris had never come inside your house and you were sure that he would have plenty to say about it, but you were not in the mood at all.

About 15 minutes later, you hear your doorbell ring. You exhale slowly before opening the door and stepping aside to let Chris in.

He walks in and looks around before turning back to you and saying, “It’s pretty.” You could feel that he was different from the other times you had seen each other.

You mutter a “thanks” and motion for Chris to follow you in the living room.

“Okay, so you said that Scott told you the type of guys that I liked but you didn’t say why he told you that.”

“Um, I asked him, a long time ago.”

“Why?”

“Well, you know…”

You start to get annoyed and reply, “No, I don’t know, otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting here right now, would you?”

Chris exhales loudly before responding, “I thought you were beautiful and smart, and I liked you and I wanted to be like the other guys you liked.”

“I- huh?”

“At first, I thought it would make you laugh or something but then you didn’t react so I thought that if I was a little mean, you would notice me but then it didn’t work so I thought that I would try to make you jealous and here we are.”

You look at Chris with your mouth agape as you try to register what he just said.

“That seems rather cliché, no?”

“Yeah, I know, it was dumb and weird, but I didn’t know what else to do to make you notice me.”

“I don’t really know what to say, to be honest…”

“How about I take out sometime and you can get to know the real me?”

“Umm… I guess?”

Chris gets up, a grin on his face, as he heads towards your front door.

“I’ll text you then.”

As you hear Chris start his car and leave, you’re still sitting on the couch, completely shocked.

What the fuck just happened?

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fanfics

[chocominnie]

Can you trust me? | knj

⇢ pairing: namjoon x reader (idol! Namjoon)

⇢ genre: Angst because Namjoon may or may not be an asshole about important things but also fluff because of sweet-talking

⇢ word count: 3k

⇢ warnings: Arguements but honestly thats it because the rest if fluff lmao.

⇢ Copyright:  please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Summary: Namjoon keeps making excuses of not meeting up with you and given that you guys have been having fall outs recently, things are about to be put on the line. Will you guys break up? Or will you stay together? Can you trust him..

You have reached the voice mailbox of-

You shake your head lightly as tears feel the brim of your eyes. This is the third time today. You knew that in this relationship with Namjoon would mean that he wouldn’t always have time for you. But for him to not even give you a quick text or just even answer his phone is absurd. You’ve been talking about this meet-up for the past two weeks. Although he is mostly busy majority of the times, a dinner for one night surely wouldn’t affect his schedule right?

Especially with all the things going on between you and him. This date tonight would of approached everything that has been happening. The arguments you guys have are just nerve wracking. Especially when he argued with you for being clumsy because you had spilled fruit juice in his studio.. on the wooden floor. You just didn’t get how it would be a big deal as it was not carpet so an easy clean up. At the end of the day, you guys knew how to get on each others bad side and that’s not good at all.

So here you are now, dressed  in an elegant black dress with that Swarovski crystal bracelet he gave you for your 1 year annivesary. Atleast, that’s when he actually gave a fuck about the relationship. Actually, you can’t even count the amount of excuses he’s made within the past months to not spend time with you. The last time it was because he was washing clothes and didn’t have any to wear right now. In which you had called bullshit because he has more clothes than anybody could ever.

Needless to say, you had ignored his calls and texts for two days to give him a piece of your mind. Namjoon wasn’t the type to over-react on such things so it wasn’t a win situation for you. Instead he sent you some of your favorite chocolates and flowers as an apology as you weren’t speaking to him. Yes, you gave in because who wouldn’t over the dozen of roses and Switzerland made chocolate?

This time is something different though.

The waitress returns with a bottle of champagne with a bucket of ice in her hands, and while she sets it down, you quickly wipe the stray tears away and force a smile. You didn’t even notice they were there before.

‘‘ It seems as though my significant other..” You take the napkin from your lap and throw it on the table. “ Will not be joining me today. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

The poor waitress had been waiting for you to order your food for an hour now. You’d kept insisting to wait because Namjoon would’ve been there any minute. Turns out you were very wrong.

She smiles softly, popping the cork off the bottle and pouring a glass for you.  ‘‘Shall I give you the bill then?’‘

As if you would be the one paying for this, when he had broke his promise for you. Broken promises are a thing you hated and he knew that. Putting this on his tab wouldn’t bother him with your petty little antics. The boy is a millionaire, something like this doesn’t even make a dent. Somehow though, you wanted to pay him back for not even showing up.

‘‘Put it on Kim Namjoon’s tab. He’ll be the one paying for this.’‘ You mumble to the young girl. The girl nods her head and pulls out the tab and hands it to you.

You sign your signature on it, and place a good thousand dollar tip on it. The feeling of satisfaction soothes you. He’d surely be paying for his time away, and wasting this waitress’ time. You hand it back to her, waiting for her reaction to the amount. Sure enough she doubled back to you when she realized how much was on the tab.

“ Ma’m? You added two extra zer-”

“ My date wasted your time love. He’s deeply sorry for it. Do something good with the money yeah?” As if the sinister smirk to yourself wasn’t enough, you quickly get up from the table and thank her again before heading to the exit.

The taste of the sweet yet tangy wine soothes the emotions flowing through you right now. Kim Namjoon. A guy who cancels dates a lot. A guy who does not keep his promise.

The only place you knew he would be at rather than his apartment would be at the BigHit building in his studio. He’s always there rather it be snowing or sunny outside he’s just.. there. It always astonishes you how one can just lock himself in a room for hours. What is it about him and doing that? Last time you paid a visit here Namjoon was eating the dinner he ordered in the room, instead of coming over to your house as he promised.

You punch in the code to the brand new building and a charming sound lets you know you may enter. You smile at the two security guards who give a slight smile then back to the blank expression towards the outside world.

Your heels click against the cold tile making your way over to the receptionist. The air smells fresh, as if someone had just cleaned the room again. The receptionist politely stands up quickly and greets you with a smile and a slight bow of her head.

“ Miss Yn, how may I assist you today?” Her eyes are warm and bright, along with her small smile at you. You wish you could feel happy in this current situation right now.  

“Is Namjoon in his studio again.”

‘‘ Yes Ma’m should I tell him that you are coming in?’‘ She says, smoothing her skirt out before sitting back down about to grab the phone.

You immediately shake your head no. Since he doesn’t like showing up and canceling dates he doesn’t need to know anything at all.

You force a fake smile upon yourself to please her. ‘‘No. It’s a surprise since we have not had the time to see each other in a while.’‘ Oh yes, a surpise it will be.

She nods her head, ‘‘ Yes ma’m. Have a nice night with him.’‘

You say your goodbyes to each other and you go your separate way down the hallway of studios. Each door standing out in it’s own way makes you smile.

Mang Gae Deok Room

Hope world

Golden Closet

Genius Lab

And finally, Mon Studio.

You fluff your hair a little bit before turning the corner to the secluded area. But something takes you by surprise, it makes you tense up. Eyes watering and a little whimper chokes out of you. So this is what he’s been doing. This is what he’s been up to for the past weeks.

Its as if almost you feel your heart stop beating for a mere second. As if the blood in your veins went cold. As if what you’re seeing right now is only your imagination but in reality it is not.

There he is, sitting in his chair while a female takes it upon herself to casually take a seat on his desk, smiling and laughing and all. The pain in your heart makes it hard for you to keep looking. Sure, you guys argue, but ditching plans to do whatever it is with a girl is a low blow. That’s all you can take. That’s all you can manage to see right before he turns to look at you in complete and utter shock. There is no stopping the flow of the tears coming down your warm cheeks.

You look down at the boxed up food you had bought him and the bottle of wine that you had taken then back up at the door. Raising the box in the air, you throw it against the window making the food splatter everywhere leaving a mess. The two inside jump at your actions, but you ignore them and just walk away with utter disbelief.

Foot steps and yelling are heard behind you but you don’t stop. You continue walking, but then speeding up your pace passing the receptionist, who is confused yet concerned, and pass the two security guards with no expression.

Running to the open, vacant elevator you quickly wipe your tears and repeatedly abuse the close button to keep Namjoon from joining you. The image of him you get just before the door closes, is him running attempting to get the elevator door to open. You make sure to make eye contact with him just so he can see your pain.

You sniffle heavily while hanging your head low walking to your apartment. You could understand if it was one of the boys in the recording room. It doesn’t look like a great situation, but the girl did seem comfortable enough with him to sit on his desk. So that only leads you to think about how long has she been around him. The thoughts barricade your mind and before you know it you are face to face with someone standing directly on your doormat.

You dont bother to look up already knowing that body structure. Instead you try and shove past him to unlock your home, but there’s no use because next thing you know you’re being held by your upper arms standing in-front of him.

‘‘ Namjoon I don’t want to fucking talk about it.’’ You grumble, shoveling yourself out his arms quick enough to unlock your apartment enough for you to slide through and slam shut.

Knocks are loud on your door to cause some neighbors to wonder. Let them wonder they can scold him themselves for causing so much of a scene.

‘‘ Yn im coming in.’‘ He yells through the door.

You roll your eyes and stand a few feet from the door with your arms crossed on your chest. The door gives a charm letting him know the pin-code was correct. He shuffles in lightly through the door and closes it gently behind him. You stand there waiting for his explanation as you slowly walk towards him.

‘‘ Yn-’‘

Smack!

It felt good for your hand to connect with his cheek. How dare he disrespect the relationship of you two like this?

Namjoon holds his now sore, red cheek and gives you a serious look, ‘’ That was unnecessary. Let me fuckin expl-’’

Smack!.

Your nose flared in and out as you breathe heavily with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. ‘’ Another woman Kim Namjoon? You didn’t show up to our date because you were doing god knows what with another woman?”

Namjoon bites his lip hard as his eyes narrow, ‘’ Stop fucking smacking me. Let me got damn explain you brat!’’ He yells, pushing you to against the wall.

Your strength towards him was no match. You try to run away but he pins you back onto the wall. You were useless at this point.

‘‘ What’s your problem! Calm down!’‘ He semi-yells, grabbing your face to  make you look at him. You look at him, you look him dead straight in the eyes with anger all over you.

‘‘ Shut up. Shut the fuck up Namjoon. I planned the date to talk about everything happening but you don’t show up? Instead you were chatting it up with another girl.” You pause, ripping your arms away from him. “ That’s not a good look for you.”

Namjoon steps back, scoffing in disbelief. That only pisses you off even more, but you decide that it had been enough smacking him for the night. ‘‘ I wasn’t cheating if you think that. You and I both know I wouldn’t do that, right?”

You glare at him, ‘’I don’t know you fucking tell me.’’

That one single sentence sets him off. Trust is something you two really try to have with each-other but lately that’s been all over the place. Questioning his loyalty to him is like a stab in the back with a sharp, piercing knife. Namjoon puts his hands on his head in shock while walking towards the kitchen. You follow him because the last thing he was going to do to you, is ignore the entire fucking conversation.

The silence is rough. You sit yourself down on one of the island chairs as you watch him pour himself a glass of wine. The one you had bought from the restaurant. The way his jaw locks with a serious pout on his face lets you know, he has some choice words to say. That sharp tongue is just holding it in.

But did you over-react? Perhaps you did? Either way, it wasn’t a great scene to walk in on. Your man and another woman alone in his studio. You can’t help but to have reacted that way. Wouldn’t any other person would? It’s not that she was there, it was the way she was very comfortable around Namjoon to the point of doing what she did. She was also a person you had never met.

Namjoon puts the tip of the glass to his lips, making direct eye contact with you as he takes a long sip of wine. You roll your eyes at his dramatic action.

He clears his throat, ‘‘ Im still young. I have female friends and I have male friends. I would love to have time with them before you start barking up my ass.”

Barking up his ass?

‘‘ So you’re saying that all you were doing was having fun with her cause you’re still got damn young huh? Is that what i’m hearing Namjoon?’‘ That rage begins in your stomach again. Simmering in you like boiling water.

You continue, “ It’s like you just don’t care you left me at the fucking restaurant looking stupid right?”

‘‘ No I wasn’t having fun with her. You ran out without letting me explain, instead you were all dramatic throwing fucking food at my windows.”  The sound of the glass clinking against the counter-top is sharp. You wince at the sound of it.

Maybe you did over-react. But in your defense, you still had no idea who the girl was.

“Yn, how childish can you be right now? Did you ever think that me, one of the members of a worldwide known boy-group will be busy? Hmm? Yes, I should of told you that I couldn’t make it beforehand. I honestly thought I would be able to join you, but I overlooked my schedule wrong. That is my fault. The girl came because she was scheduled to work on our collaboration tonight with me.”

Oh gosh. The guilt takes over your body all at once. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. You really outdid yourself now. During all your rage and tantrum about this situation, you had failed to realize that you had indeed signed up to live this type of relationship with him. Of course he’d be busy, he’s an idol. Not once did you take his feelings and thoughts into consideration this entire time.

“ I don’t know Yn, I don’t know if we can continue our relationship together. You and I seem to be clashing a lot now-a-days. You questioning my loyalty really hurt me. We should think about taking a break, or ending things.”

Tears well in your eyes but you just let them fall. Those words you never wanted to hear ever. Sure couples clash with each-other, but isn’t that what makes them stronger? It’d be One year and a half down the drain if things were to go south now. Namjoon is a sweet guy, but your recent over-reacting scenes is becoming too much for him.

There goes that silence again. You two just sit there, not saying a word. The tension is thick as wood. This isn’t right. This won’t be right. Th emotions in you are running high. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Things were only said in the heat of the moment. You were tired of him always canceling and didn’t even bother to let him explain. This could of been handled better.

“ I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been wanting to spend time with you and you keep canceling on me Namjoon..”

He sighs, placing his now finished glass of wine in the sink. He runs his hands in his hair shaking his head again. “ I’m sorry for that. I should do a better job at telling you my schedule.”

It still hurts though. The way he said those words without hesitation. “ Do you.. still want us to take a break after this?”

“ I think that now that we understand each other a little more, we can work on being better together and not seperate.”

You’re happy to hear those words. Namjoon comes from behind the counter straight towards you where you were now standing beside the chair you were once sitting in. His arms snake around you and pull you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You sink into him, nuzzling your head into him with a small sigh.

“ I don’t like when we fight like this. You know I love you right? So much. So, so, much.” He whispers down to you. You nod your head in agreement. It’s something about being in his arms that soothe you.

You feel so complete with just the presence of him. He makes you happy, as you do him. Namjoon is understanding, caring, kind, and so much more to you. He was there for you on your worst days, and was there on your best days.

He plants a small kiss on your forehead, “ Let’s become better together yn. I want big plans for us in the future, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“ I want that for us too. I love you so much Namjoon. Even when things are bad for us, I care a lot about you.”

The butterflies in your stomach settle. Being in Namjoons arms is what home feels like to you. You’re secure and safe.

‘‘ Can you trust me next time? I promise from now on I will tell you in advance if I cannot participate instead of just leaving you wondering.‘

You nod your head, not caring about what he said but only caring about his embrace right now. The only thing you care about att he moment is him and his understanding.

‘‘ Can you trust me?’‘

#kim namjoon #namjoon #knj oneshot #knj #namjoon fanfic #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon reaction #namjoon fanfiction #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts reaction #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts

[amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes]

Toy Box

AN: This is my entry for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Two Years of Darkness challenge. My prompt is Mob!AU you wonder about your bf/gf's late nights and the answer surprises you and my character is Bucky. I took a friendship route to the gf and not romantic and this went from Bucky to an add on. This is a little late but I changed the story and characters last minute; I apologize. Not beta’d so all mistakes are my own. My character is written with a WOC in mind but all read. Please don’t repost my work without my expressed permission 🗣🗣🗣

Warnings: ‼️NON-CON‼️, allusions to prostitution, voyeurism, unwanted groping, slight gun play, violence(the gun is discharged), threesome? four-way? IDK how to classify it. Proceed with caution and do not read if the subject matter offends you. 

Pairing: Officially? Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,121

~~~~~

“Hey, what are you doing to make all this extra money?”

Sabrina, your roommate, gave you a weary look as you hesitated by the large double doors. The sounds of the busy street unnerved you but you wanted to do this. Besides, if Sabrina could do it, why couldn’t you? While she had been quite cryptic in telling you what her part-time job duties are, you trusted Sabrina. She'd been your roommate and best friend for years and you had all confidence in her. 

"You really wanna know?" The uncertainty in her voice went ignored. You placed your hands on your hips and tsked. She avoided your pointed glare. Secrets were never kept between the two of you; you both knew everything about each other so to think she was holding something from you was offensive. 

"Girl, yes. I wanna know how you go from not being able to pay your half of the rent to now covering my half. What's the deal?"

After nearly an hour of guilt tripping her, Sabrina finally caved and told you she was working for "some hotel in guest services and entertainment". When you pressed her for a better explanation, she just shrugged and asked if you wanted to meet her boss and get the job description from her. While you may not have skills to be an entertainer, surely they had a position at the front desk you could do. That night you happily edited your resume and dreamt of all the things you could do with the extra money; pay off a bill or two and save for that vacation you so desperately need.  

"You ready?" A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality. Of all places, you didn't expect her to bring you to the Hotel Cortez. The Cortez was well known as one of two hives for the new crime syndicate that took over the town a few years back. You'd only half paid attention to the news articles as they listed the main culprits: James Barnes, and Carol "The Captain" Danvers. The two of them wreaked havoc on the town and had nearly the entire police force in their back pocket. You’d been lucky enough to not cross paths with them or their associates, hearing that once you get tangled with them, you’re stuck.  

Humming a response to her, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. It wasn't like you're doing anything illegal, you’d be so far down the ladder that the worst that could happen to you was you get fired. At least you still had your full time job to fall back on. Placing your hand on the handle, you shift your portfolio and push open the large glass doors. Red and gold carpet covers the lobby floor and high crystal chandeliers illuminate the area in a dreamlike glow; a true juxtaposition to what you believed it would look like. Standing in the middle of the lobby, you gawk at the red velvet chairs that look like mini thrones rather than chairs. You feel out of place and severely under-dressed with your black maxi skirt and white shirt. 

“They’re ready for you, Ruby. Go on up.” You startle and turn towards the feminine voice. Behind a desk you didn't even notice, a blonde woman in a fitted white dress smiles at you. Sabrina mumbles her thanks and hooks her arms in yours, dragging you to the opposite side of the desk. Frowning, you turn to Sabrina when you stop in front of an elevator. 

“Who the hell is Ruby?”

“Me.” her eyes never leave the floor indicator, the numbers counting down. Clearing her throat, she shrugs. “They give us nicknames here, you don’t use your real name.”

“Why?” The elevator dings and slides open. Still hooked with you, Sabrina pulls you into the elevator and presses floor 21. You turn to her with your arms crossed. She avoids your glare and sighs. 

“It's not too late to turn around.” You tilt your head in confusion at her. Before you can ask for clarification, the elevator dings and the door opens. Again you are taken aback at the decor of the room. You were expecting an office, not a large gray sofa and matching chair on a white rug nor the ceiling to floor windows that made the walls. The rest of the floor was hardwood and more gray chairs scattered about. Tall white vases of varying bouquets of flowers sat on matching gray tables and a small chandelier casts a soft glow. Sabrina let you go and walked further into the room. You stood awkwardly a few feet from the elevator, too nervous to move in fear of breaking something. 

 A call of your name beckons you to move. You hear voices and as you exit the foyer, you get a better view of the room. More gray furniture decorate the room and to the far left of the room, a large L shaped desk with matching cabinets. A woman is perched on the corner of the desk, her short black dress raised over her long legs as she giggles at a blonde woman behind the desk. In a chair to their right, a man sits with a glass and watches you as you stop next to Sabrina. The woman behind the desk stands and moves toward you. Swallowing hard, your resolve falters when you recognize her. Carol Danvers. You weren’t expecting to see any of the bosses and seeing her up close is daunting. Her presence is authoritative as she strides towards you, her tailored black suit as unwavering as her gaze.

“This her?” the woman on the desk glances at Sabrina before raking her eyes slowly down your body. Carol hums as she paces around you, the action making you uneasy. 

"She's cute. What do you think, Barnes?"

Your anxiety spikes as you realize that both of the mob bosses are within arms reach of you and staring you down. Sabrina elbows you in the ribs and clears her throat as she introduces you. You plaster your best smile and hand your portfolio to Carol. She takes it from you and as you are about to speak, she tosses it to the woman still on the desk. 

"How adorable is this? She brought a resume." Her teasing making you frown. You reach for your portfolio but she pulls back and sticks out her tongue with a wink. 

"Maria," Carol playfully chides. "Don't give the new girl a hard time. Test her, James." 

He hums from his seat and placed his glass on the table. You clear your throat and begin to list off your work experience, his hand reaches to his belt and unfastens it. You pause and turn to Sabrina again who shrugs. Carol resumes her place next to Maria and places a hand on her thigh. Your eyes bounce between the women before falling back to James who is in the process of opening his fly. 

"You know what? Maybe this position isn't for me." You attempt to sound braver than you feel but your voice comes out small. "Thank you for the opportunity, we're leaving." Taking a step back, you turn fully to Sabrina who is looking at the floor and you grab her wrist. 

Maria giggles as Carol's hand creeps under the hem of her dress. You attempt to pull Sabrina but she doesn't move. You look at her incredulously as James stands with a deep sigh. Your flight or fight instinct kicks in and you drop her wrist. Right as you are about to run, a strong grip on the back of your neck pulls you back and you collide with warm flesh. You scream and attempt to twist away from  the strong hand holding you but the hand moves from your neck to your hair and pushes you down. 

“Ruby, you didn’t tell her, did you?” James asks but Sabrina stays quiet. He steps into your peripheral and turns your head towards him, the strain on your neck painful. "She's my little toy. And sometimes I lend my toys for others to play. Get it?" 

You reach back and grab his wrist in an attempt to release some of the pressure from your scalp but his hold is ironclad. His hand disappears into his pants and you cringe as he pulls his cock out and taps it against your bottom lip. You grind your teeth as he taps again on lip and sighs after a moment. His grip on your hair tightens and you gasp at the pain. 

"Come on, I don't have all day." His bored tone is offensive and you glare up at him. You purse your lips together in defiance and Maria laughs. 

"Love the fight in her, Ruby. But I want a show." Maria faux pouts as Carol's fingers work their way higher and Maria spreads her legs to allow her access. "Talk to your friend." 

You glance up at Sabrina who is fidgeting and still avoiding eye contact. She sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes. "Just do it and get it over with. You're being dramatic." 

"Dramatic?!" You shriek and attempt to twist in his hold to face her but he spins you around and uses the momentum to force himself into your mouth. You gag around him and jerk your head back but you are unable to maneuver away from him. You grunt in frustration and as you're about to bring your canines down full force on him, cool metal presses against your temple. 

"Bite me and I'll blow your fucking brains out." His warning freezes all movement from you. Your eyes water as he slides the metal from your temple to your line of sight and you look down the barrel of his gun. Saliva gathers at the corners of your mouth as you hold him there, not daring to move. He taps the gun twice on your forehead before he tsks. Quicker than you can register, he releases his hold on your hair and the pressure from the gun is moved. You jerk away from him as a loud pop reverberates the room. You scream and cower on the floor as Sabrina drops to the floor near you. She's crying and holding her arm, blood seeping through her fingers. Carol laughs as you scream again and reach for her but a click near your ear draws your attention back to the man in front of you. 

"Consider that a warning. Hurry. Up." The gun returns to your head but the metal is now hot and burns your skin. You shake your head, taking one last glance at Sabrina who returns your gaze with watery eyes. Sitting up on your knees, you reach for him with trembling hands. He's warm to the touch and the feel of him twitching against your fingers almost has you reeling. His hand returns to your hair though he doesn't grip this time. Closing your eyes, you give him a few tentative strokes before you slowly ease him into your mouth. 

"Good girl. Show us what you can do." Maria purrs and Carol hums. You brace a hand on his thigh and try to recall every porn movie you've ever seen.  Hollowing your cheeks, you push him as far as you can and attempt not to gag as he brushes the back of your throat. A deep moan rumbles through his chest when you bring your other hand to his base and twist your wrist to mimic the movement of your mouth. A whimper behind you makes you speed up; you may have been upset with Sabrina but you didn't want her to bleed out. Maria moans loudly and for a moment you can simultaneously hear the sound of her being fingered with your slurping noises. 

"Keep going." You aren't sure who gave the soft command but you respond by flattening your tongue in an effort to stifle your gag reflex so you can take him deeper. It must work because you hear him hiss and he bucks his hips involuntarily showing him deeper down your throat. Unprepared for the invasion, you try to pull back but the hand on your head locks you in place. Your nails dig into his leg as you try not to panic because you can't draw in a breath. He holds you for a few seconds before the hand on your head reimplants in your hair and pulls you backwards. You fall on your backside as you cough. You turn to check on Sabrina who has gone quiet. She's curled up in a ball and as you reach for her, you're once again pulled back. A soft hand caresses your cheek and it takes a second that it's Carol, not James, who has you this time. 

"Maria, baby. Assume the position. Show the new girl how it's done." Maria hops off the desk and moves to the side of the chair James was sitting in. Carol hoists you up by the arm and stands you on the opposite side of the chair. "Go on honey." At Carol's order, Maria lifts her dress and bends over the arm of the chair with her hands clasped in front of her over the sitting cushion. She wiggles her hips and licks her lips, eyes never leaving yours. You are about to protest when strong hands push you to bend forward, the arm of the chair hitting you roughly in the stomach. You groan in pain and try to squirm away but your hands are held in front of you by Maria. She intertwines your fingers with hers and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Let's see what's under the hood, hm?" Carol mumbled before your skirt is lifted and bunched at your waist. You made to protest but another shove forward had you hitting your stomach again and the pain stunned you into compliance. Nimble fingers danced along your panty line and when they reached the crotch, the fabric was ripped away. Her strength and actions shocked you as she brushed along your inner thigh. Tears fill your eyes as she reaches your outer lips and spreads them with her thumb and index finger. You feel her circle around your entrance before ghosting down to your clit. You hear her chuckle and shame fills you and you know what she fills. 

"Oh you'll like this one, James. She's soaked and just from sucking dick? She'll be a good earner." You try to hide your face as she slips a finger inside of you and then another before abruptly pulling out. From your place on your arm, you see Carol's shiny black shoes move away from you and you peek up to see her stand behind Maria. Carol places the fingers that were inside of you on Maria's lips and you watch as Maria suckles on them. 

You lower your head in embarrassment when your feet are kicked apart and strong hands grip your waist. You protest by trying to stand again but once again you are pushed into the arm of the chair and the wind is knocked from you. 

"Same time?" Carol asks, amusement lacing her tone. Maria holds you tighter as you feel James step closer to you, the head of his cock poised at your entrance. You try to wiggle away from him but he takes another step forward and pushes further into you. Tears stream freely down your face as Maria rolls her hips, Carol slowly fucking her with her fingers. Maria leans forward and places a gentle kiss on your lips. James pushes further into you and you gasp; Maria taking the opportunity to shove her tongue in your mouth. She swallows your pained grunt when James thrusts into you without warning. He gives you no time to adjust to his size before he sets a brutal pace. Every push of his hips sends your abdomen further into the arm of the chair and you don't know what to focus on: the pain, the woman in front of you, your friend bleeding on the floor or the man behind you. Maria releases one of your hands and snakes her free hand down the front of your blouse. You twist away from her roaming hand as she slips under your bra to squeeze your breast. 

"Please, stop." You beg to no one in particular but hope they all would stop. Your request is met with a breathy laugh from Carol who's pumping her fingers faster into Maria in an attempt to match James speed. The legs of the chair protest under your combined weight and the force of the man thrusting behind you. His hand finds the small of your back and forces you to arch; the new position causes you to moan subconsciously.

"Oh, there's her sweet spot. Do it again."  Maria begs, her tongue sweeping across your bottom lip. He obliges and your body unwillingly comes alive. He pushes you down further and you grab the chair cushion for purchase. Maria kisses you again and in your haze you return the kiss which earns a moan from Carol, her hand moving at an unnatural speed. James plunges into you at the same brutal pace and you can feel your arousal. You know he can feel it too because his breathing is becoming labored and his hold on your hip is bruising. 

"Bad girl, Ruby. Keeping your friend away from us." James' voice is strained and you're surprised how he can speak and breathe at the same time. A whimper is his response; you can't look at your friend right now as a string of curses fall from your lips. Your orgasm hits you unexpectedly and you babble incoherently as his pace never falters. Maria kisses your nose and shushes you as writhe under him. A few more pointed thrusts has you falling into another orgasm and this time you gush over him. Maria whines as she throws her head back and you watch her, too blissed out to look away. James hips sputter and he abruptly pulls out of you which makes you wince. One hand is still on your hip and he groans low above you, warmth hitting the back of your thighs. The room is filled with heavy breathing before you feel your legs give out from under you. You slide to your knees and rest your head against the chair. The sound of liquid pouring has you tilting your head back as James pours himself a drink. His eyes connect with yours and he brings the glass to his lips and takes a large gulp. 

"Welcome to the toy box, Carnelian."

Not tagging a lot of people just in case this isn’t your thing: @avintagekiss24 @sapphirescrolls @marvelmaree @titty-teetee @angrythingstarlight

#twoyearsofdark #bucky x reader #bucky x woc!reader #non-con

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.12

Queen of New Asgard

12/02/2020

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 9,737

Warnings: fluff, cute babies, talks of pregnancy, angst, Avengers shenanigans, talks of sex

A/N: So this one is a bit longer than the rest, I really wanted to make sure that this one was a lengthy treat. I didn’t want to split the chapter into two between getting to the Avengers and then actually meeting them and spending tie with them. I wanted to keep it together. I hope you all like it! I had a lot of fun with it, and mostly, I just really love Thor. I want him for myself. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

To say you’re a mess would be an understatement.

At least having Thor by your side gives you a small sense of stability, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re about to meet the Avengers.

Earth’s mightiest heroes.

People so famous that everyone knows their name. Even people in remote parts of the world know they exist.

The sensation of being pulled and gliding through the air in Thor’s arms as the Bifrost glow surrounds you both in your transport is nothing compared to the rolling of your stomach at the thought of saying or doing something stupid in front of Thor’s friends and comrades.

You hold him tighter, loving the way he feels in full armor. Only because it really drives home the fact that he could protect you from anything as opposed to being comfortable.

You’re dressed more simply though not at all casual. The outfit you’re wearing was shoved into your bag with two others in case of official events that might crop up during your honeymoon.

Because dinner with Thor’s teammates is supposed to be a relaxed event, you chose the most unimpressive of the three.

The bodice consists of a one-piece made of leather. Armor would be more accurate in describing it. Though bits of it have been dyed a dark yet also soft gray-purple, others, like the right breast piece and the strip that wraps down around your left side are a natural brown. Textured with a ridged design to compliment the thinner more boned design of the gray-purple section.

Around your waist and laced at the back is another a-symmetrical piece of that natural brown leather, but along the base of it is sewn a long flowing skirt made of a cotton voile base in navy and a sheer silk light blue making the effect of it together like shifting water.

The skirt is left open slightly on the right. If anyone pays really close attention, they’ll see the top of your thigh in the sway. Generally, the dress is appropriate and since this will technically be your first public outing with Thor, it was important you look the part.

Neither of you is wearing a crown. Not necessary really, if it isn’t an official ceremony or event, but you are wearing the large golden pin that Thor had made for you to put on the left breast of your sleeveless gown.

It’s the same interlaced arches that are on your swords with a crown that looks just like your wedding crown at the center where the arches connect.

It shines bright, brand new as it is, and is a symbol of your new status in the world.

A human Queen of Asgard.

It’s safe to say that your name is known from one corner of the Earth to the other which you only just realized when you were doing some research on the time it takes for a body to decompose in a demi-damp environment occasionally exposed to heat. You’d stumbled across a tabloid page with the headline How the New Queen of Asgard Bewitched the God of Thunder.

You hadn’t bothered to read the article because it was clear exactly what kind of reporting they were doing from the picture of you, which someone had pulled from the website of your old school, sitting on Thor’s chest with a photoshopped smirk and glowing red eyes.

There were a few others you read, most of them nice and from official news sources. All of them detailing your tragic childhood and your ascension to wealth. Then your birth ancestry was exposed making you a top candidate for Queen of the Asgardians and in one article for the New York Times, you recognized the pictures of your wedding as you and Thor stared at each other in all of your enamored glory.

Anyone with eyes can see that you love him and in those pictures, you can admit that it helps you feel a bit more secure in Thor’s love to see that he’s looking at you the exact same way. How can he look at you like that and not love you? Or at least be really fond of you?

As the air gets colder, mushy gray snow lining the streets below you, Thor’s body pulls up, preparing to stand as his speed slows.

You feel him step onto the pavement before you do, then slowly he lowers you, large hands so careful with you that you can’t help but look for his eye to see what he might be feeling.

His eyes are not on you though. They’re on the crowd that’s slowly begun to gather.

They’re giving you a wide berth, but they’re stopping to look, and some have pulled out their cell phones to take photos or record video.

You can hear whispers shift through the cold New York winter air, people leaning over to each other in excitement and curiosity. Much like the crowd back in New Asgard had when you’d driven by them to get to your dress fitting and the wedding parade.

You can’t really make out what they’re saying but Thor can, and he wraps his arm around your waist, turns you to face those that are nearest, and waves.

You follow his example and give them as kind a smile as you can, despite the sudden nerves eating at you.

Shit, do you have to say something? Are you expected to?

“Hello everyone. I know most of you have seen her in the papers and on the interwebs already, but this is my beautiful and lovely Queen. My wife, Y/N.” Thor declares, but even your name he caresses with the soft shift in his tone.

“Hello?” You don’t mean it to come out as a question, but it does.

Still, there are a few people that giggle at your reaction.

A sense of calm overcomes those watching, as if finally hearing you speak seems to have burst a bubble.

“Aw yew a pwincess?” A small hand tugs at your skirts and you turn to look down at an adorable little girl with smooth deep brown skin. Her hair is gathered in two small buns, tight braids keep it neat.

All you can really see are her big brown eyes, so wide and full of wonder.

You pull from Thor’s grasp and squat down to be on the toddler’s level. She can’t be more than three.

“She’s my Queen, little one.” Thor explains, squatting down beside you. “Queen of New Asgard. Isn’t she pretty?”

The little girl giggles and nods, then reaches up to touch your own hair which has also been braided, one long in the middle giving it a mohawk look, and several other small braids along the sides to keep it neat while flying.

At least that’s the bit that you remember from this morning.

Thor had pulled you out of bed at four o’clock, led you to a chair in the bathroom and then started messing with your hair. Of course, that sent you right back off to sleep but you remember asking him sleepily at some point why he was braiding your hair and he’d explained that it was to keep it from getting all messy while flying.

That’s the last thing you remember before he was suddenly kissing you awake and then your mind was busy with the delicious way he carried you back to bed and then heartbroken when he said you had only ten minutes more to sleep while he showered.

You’re so tired.

Smiling at the little girl, watching her own joy grow in her eyes gives you new energy and you take her hand and hold it in your two.

“It’s so lovely to meet you…?”

A woman hurries over from the crowd, voice frantic as she seems to have finally spotted her little escapee.

“RUBY!” The poor mother cries, hurrying to her daughter’s side.

“Ruby,” You repeat.

The little girl turns to look at her mother while you keep hold of her hand.

“Wook mama! A Ka-ween!” She giggles and her mother slows, hesitating now that she notices you and Thor.

“Holy shi-” Her mother says, “I’m so sorry.”

Hurrying forward, she takes hold of Ruby’s shoulders and pulls her close, not because she’s threatened by you two or anything. She must be shocked.

You let her hand go as it’s pulled gently, and Thor helps you stand back up. Once you’re standing, he reaches down to take hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, smiling at the woman as Ruby turns to hug her leg excitedly. “She’s very sweet.”

“She’s a troublemaker. That’s what she is.” The woman counters. “D-Do I have to curtsy or somethin’?”

“Not this time.” Thor tells her, “For having such an adorable child, we’ll give you the curtsy pass.”

He’s joking. Teasing the woman.

“Thor…” You nudge him and he chuckles, amused by you more than his joke. “What he means to say is, yes. Normally you would have to, but he knows I’m already nervous out of my mind so it’s okay.”

The woman looks around behind her, aware of the flashing camera phones and the videos they must be taking. So, she turns back to you and clumsily makes a curtsy.

Little Ruby sees her do it and then turns to you and does an even clumsier version of the same bow.

“Thank you.” You manage to say, voice almost completely deprived of volume from how nervous her attention makes you.

“Yes,” Thor agrees, suddenly serious. “Thank you. Both of you, for the warm New York welcome.”

“It was nothing.” The woman says, dipping down to pick up Ruby. “Say buh-bye, Ruby.”

As they walk away, Ruby twists in her mother’s arms to look over her shoulder at you and Thor and waves.

“Buh-bye!”

“Bye, Ruby.” You wave at her, smiling at her cuteness before you look up to meet Thor’s gaze.

“See, that wasn’t so terrible.” Thor gives you a squeeze. “Just our luck that it was an adorable child to greet you first.”

“She was so cute!” You gush, wishing you could take her home.

Maybe Thor sees the deep want in your own face because he leans in and presses his lips to your temple before resting them softly against your ear.

“Don’t worry, cherub. Soon we’ll have our own little one running around the palace.” He promises.

Even though he means it in an innocent way, the deep tone and intent in his voice is also very clear and if there weren’t a lot of people watching, you’d pull him down for a kiss.

He smirks down at you, almost like he knows that you picked up on that lusty vibe despite his words being sweet.

“You’re not playing fair.” You complain.

Thor chuckles then gives the crowd, which has grown quite a bit, another wave.

“Something to look forward to when we go home.” He reasons.

“Will we get to do everything you want with this crowd around us?” You give them a look and tuck yourself into Thor’s side a little more but wave all the same.

All these eyes on you. Watching you. Listening to every little thing you say?

“I’ll make it possible, cherub.” Thor assures you.

He twirls his hammer, a near replica of the one his sister destroyed before they arrived on Earth and takes a step towards the crowd with the look of someone about to make a speech.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you look at yourself, you still look like you. Still wearing the dress you’d pulled on in the morning. Braids still in place.

Thor is still in full uniform. Still holding his hammer. But as the two of you walk through the city, no one stops to look.

After you and Thor had ducked into that first shop—a bakery that had lured him in by the nose because apparently the breakfast you’d cooked him hadn’t been enough—and emerged freshly fed, none of the people who had stopped to watch you when you'd landed were looking at you as you passed them.

Some of them even looked right at you then away as if they didn’t recognize you.

“It’s magic.” Thor whispers in your ear.

He straightens up, watching you with an amused grin as understanding overcomes your face.

“A trick my mother taught me that Loki has helped me perfect. Would you like us to see what they do? Our clothes, I mean? We’ll still see each other.”

“Sure.” You nod, excited by the proximity of magic to yourself.

Thor gives you a nod. He twirls his hammer, held loose in his right hand and it turns into an umbrella.

His clothes are neat and somewhat formal. More of a business casual with dark pressed trousers, a thick black t-shirt made of a heavy and soft cotton blend. His jacket is coal gray, with just the slightest hint of brown.

You gasp lightly, stunned by the sight of him with two electric blue eyes. No sleek black and gold eyepatch. Just two pretty orbs that blink at the shock on your face.

“What, love?” He worries, reaching down to place his hand on your lower back as the two of you continue down the sidewalk.

“Your eyes.” You shake your head, speechless.

“Oh, yes. Well, it helps me blend in.”

His blonde hair is styled too, a smooth wave of the longer hair along the top of his head. Why is he so pretty?

Thor chuckles.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He teases, still looking forward.

“I’m staring,” You huff a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

But you give yourself a look and find yourself wearing a chic black pantsuit. More heavy cotton blend fabric from head to toe. It has that waterproof sheen though. Like if you spill something it’ll just roll off. Black long sleeve shirt with a higher than normal collar. It’s just a few inches short of being a turtleneck.

Over that you’re wearing a sleeveless wool trench coat with big black buttons and large pockets. The cut is feminine and left open since it’s cold but not too cold during the day with the sun streaming down.

It’ll be different tonight.

“We have these actual clothes waiting for us at the compound. I had them sent over when Stark told me that I’d be able to bring you for introductions. We can change in my room once we’re there, so we won’t be as constricted.” Thor takes your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“You have a room at the compound? Isn’t it like a military base or something?” You wonder.

“Parts of it. There is a shooting range and a hangar with plenty of planes and jets. A pretty large garage with quite the selection of cars. Maybe we can go for a drive after dinner for some alone time?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, but you’re still trying to wrap your mind around bedrooms at the compound.

“Do some of the Avengers live on the compound?”

“Yes.” Thor nods, his attention pulled away from his suggestive expression. “Several of them do. Wanda lives there. Captain Rogers, Natasha, Vision, Samuel and Barnes live there now too. Stark has moved out to be with Pepper on some cabin they purchased together a year ago.

“Barton lives with his family, so he doesn’t stay at the compound. And of course, for me it has been a home away from home. The only other person that stays there but doesn’t live there permanently is Banner.

“After we arrived from our journey in space, he took to his lab and slept at the compound for nearly six months before he finally went home. He hasn’t come back to the compound since. Says he’s working on something, but he’s promised to be here for our dinner.” Thor assure you.

Sad to say that you can’t exactly be as excited as he is as the list of names, he just went through looms over you like a test you didn’t study for.

Suddenly he stops, and he waves over at another tall blonde man with storm blue eyes and what looks to be a full beard. His slightly outgrown blonde hair is pushed back, the tresses smooth and silky as he hurries towards you both, brown leather bomber jacket zipped shut over a pair of jeans.

“Oh, you’re dressed up.” He says, but you recognize him and as Thor stops, you find yourself gaping at Captain America. “Maybe I should have picked something nicer.”

“Not necessary. You and the rest of the team are friends.” He takes Captain America’s hand and shakes it before they both meet in a quick hug.

“It’s been too long.” Thor admits.

“Well, you’re a busy man now. King and all that.”

“H-How did you recognize us?” You stutter, focusing on the mystery before you instead of the fact that Captain America is standing right fucking there!

“I let him see us.” Thor explains. “The veil holds only for those I want to shield us from.”

“Oh.” You whisper, not intending to but you have no air in your lungs again.

Thor seems to read your frayed nerves because he reaches around to wrap his arm around your waist and offer you some support.

“Captain Rogers, this is my lovely and very nervous wife, Y/N Y/L/N. Queen of Asgard and if I’m honest, the love of my life.” Thor’s honest gushing, the way he sounds honest and so freaking sincere brings you back to yourself a little and with a squeeze from him, you relax.

“Steve, Thor. Please. I’m not Captain America anymore.” He says, almost as if it’s a reminder.

This confuses you because as far as you know, Steve Rogers is still Captain America.

“I read the e-mail.” Thor says, shaking his head. “I thought perhaps it was a joke.”

“Since when have I ever joked about something this serious?”

“I don’t know, I thought perhaps you might have-”

Steve Rogers turns to you, ignoring Thor for the moment as he holds his hand out and slowly you take it.

“I know I should probably bow, but we don’t want everyone knowing who I’m talking to so, is a handshake okay?”

“Of course!” You say breathlessly as he shakes your hand softly. His grip is firm, but you can tell he’s very aware of not hurting you.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” He begins, then leans in towards you and whispers, “Your Majesty.”

Both of you are left smiling while Thor’s eyes are narrowed at the two of you.

“How do you find married life? Has Thor gotten on your nerves yet?”

You can tell he’s joking because while he’s talking to you, he steals a quick side-eye at Thor to gauge his reaction.

“Not yet. But he does like to eat all of the bacon.” You whisper.

Steve makes a pained look, directing it at Thor, still holding your hand in that gentle handshake.

“That’s a big no-no.” Steve agrees.

“Right?” You press, enjoying the pout on Thor’s lips.

“Alright, Rogers, release my wife’s hand.” He reaches and takes your hand out of Steve’s forcefully, but you and Steve only chuckle.

Thor pulls your hand up against his chest and with his other arm still around your waist, he’s basically got you wrapped up in his arms.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting.” Steve laughs, moving towards a black luxury sedan.

Thor makes to move forward but you pull back, resisting because meeting Steve Rogers was already stressful enough.

Now you have to go meet the rest of them? Can’t you just call it quits now?

“Cherub?” Thor looks at you, the concern pouring from him so overwhelmingly sweet that you give in.

He wants this so badly. It’s so important to him. You’ll also have to do many things from here on out that will make you anxious and stressed.

Suck it up.

“I’m just nervous.” You tell him, as if he can’t already see it himself.

“Thor?” Steve calls from the driver’s side of the car. He’s got the door open, both arms resting against the top of the vehicle.

“A moment, Steve.” Thor says, and for some reason it gives Steve a curious look on his face.

It’s almost as if he’s not used to Thor calling him by his first name.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, my love. You’ve already met Rogers and he’s like one of those dogs with the long ears and the funny long howl when it comes to sensing when anything’s amiss. Clearly, he likes you. You’re perfection, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”

Thor’s gushing should make you feel better, and it does a little. But you’re about to meet so many people. All of them important to Thor. What if you say something that makes one of them angry? What if you and one of them—or all of them—just don’t mesh well?

“I just-I-I don’t want to, I don’t know, disappoint you?”

Thor’s face falls into complete adoration. His smile is soft but wide and so pleased. He takes a step towards you, reaching up with both hands to place them on the back of your head, just behind your ears.

“You’ve already made me so proud, cherub. You’re here, standing with your head held high, greeting the people of a foreign country with grace and kindness. You’ve made jokes with one of my closest comrades already. I have every faith that you will continue to outshine me.” He chuckles as you relax a little more. “Do you need a few minutes?”

You shake your head, reaching up to take hold of his wrists. “No.”

“Ready?”

“Yes,” you nod.

Thor slips his hands down, flicking them gently so that he can take hold of both your hands.

He pulls them to his lips and kisses them, never breaking eye contact.

He must lose concentration for his magic because as he kisses your knuckles, his two eyes turn into one as the eyepatch takes its place again.

His regular clothes turn back into his armor and your own dress shifts back into the more Asgardian appropriate attire.

“Uh, Thor?” Steve Rogers insists.

Thor looks at him and with a nod towards his body, Steve Rogers communicates the problem.

You look around and people are stopping their shopping and walking and going about their days to turn and look at the two Asgardian monarchs suddenly standing on the sidewalk in a sweet and affectionate embrace.

“Oops.” Thor smiles at them and gives them a wave while simultaneously taking hold of your hand.

You follow his lead and give them a regal wave and polite smile as he pulls you towards the car. Steve Rogers is already there, holding the back door open for you.

You get in and he shuts the door as Thor moves around to the other side and gets in too.

“You distracted me.” He accuses you, reaching around you to pinch your side.

You give a small scream of laughter then look at the watching crowd with a startled and embarrassed smile, but they’re pleased by the exchange. Some of them taking video and photos. Others just giggling and laughing along with you.

There are a few young women and men who even look envious. And honestly? Who wouldn’t?

You look and Thor and as he chuckles at your reaction to his teasing and the reaction of those watching as Steve Rogers pulls the car away from curb, you can understand their envy because Thor is beautiful and anyone, even if in the end they decide they don’t want to be with him, would be lucky to share in his love.

~~~~~~~~~~

You made Thor promise to keep his hands to himself and you’re already regretting it.

You feel like you’re going to pass out. It’s all wobbly on your legs.

Knees are buckling and you might go down any second.

Thor takes an inch in your direction, but you give him a frown and he clears his throat before going right back to the spot he’d been in.

Both of you stand in a long common room. There are two modern armchairs in a gray almost beige cotton fabric. Two long sofas in an orange sandstone color sit completely occupied.

On the sofa to the right sit two beautiful red heads. One has short shoulder-length hair with pale blonde tips. The other’s long locks in a deeper less vibrant red fall to the base of her shoulder blades.

The brighter red headed woman has a sharp face, with large bright green eyes and eyebrows that start somewhat full on the inner corners and slowly fade into much thinner lines.

They’re perfectly shaped for her face though it does give her a sterner look.

She’s wearing a plain black dress with capped sleeves and a plunging V neckline. Her shoes are simple black flats though, which she taps against the floor as she waits for you to speak. Black Widow is just as fearsome as she looks in the news.

The other woman is much younger, her youthful face round. Her eyes are a pretty soft brown, more inviting though still a little distrustful. This must be Wanda, the Scarlet Witch.

It’s like she’s analyzing every move you make.

Fuck.

Beside her sits a man with peachy skin, short blondish-reddish hair. He looks older than her, but still handsome.

Despite the appearance of his older age, he has hold of one of Wanda’s hands. Fingers intertwined.

They’re together.

Vision, your mind provides.

On the other sofa sits Steve, his eyes kind as he waits patiently for you to be ready. Beside him sits a handsome black man with an exhausted expression.

You can tell that it isn’t directed at you, but he looks tired. Just home from doing some Avengers work, maybe?

Beside him sits a middle-aged man with small streaks of gray at his temples. His face is kind, but he seems like he’s preoccupied. Like he’s got places to be or things to do.

He keeps wringing his hands slowly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he watches you.

On the far armchair is the man himself, Tony Stark. He looks every bit a king in his domain, just like Thor back home in New Asgard.

He owns the place—literally—and everyone knows it just by watching him sit there. He’s inquisitive about you, his mind clearly racing from the look in his eyes.

He’s the most analytical out of everyone. He keeps looking at you from head to toe, every shift in your stance, the way you hold your hands, or the fact that you’re looking each of them over and making your own conclusions catches his attention.

The last person in the room, and the only other one standing aside from you and Thor, is a tall beefy man with shortly cropped dark brown hair. He also looks tired, and he reaches up to rub his exhausted face with his shining black arm etched with golden veins that run through the sleek indestructible metal.

Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier. Though most people still call him that, from what Thor said in your prep when coming is that he’s been fixed?

No, that’s not the right way to phrase that. He’s not a dog. He’s been deprogrammed.

You don’t quite understand what that means, but you realized as Thor spoke that Hydra had done something to Bucky to make him do the things that he’d done. Like brainwashing, though you know nothing about how one gets brainwashed.

It made you sad, that someone would be that cruel and take from someone their identity and all the things that make them who they are. You heart aches for the former Winter Soldier and he gives you the tinies of smiles. Just a soft and subtle gesture of encouragement.

All eyes in the room are on you, and you’re freezing up so you appreciate the figurative extended hand.

When you speak, your voice trembles at first.

“I-It’s so…I’m s-so…”

They stir, sitting up straighter at the sound of your voice.

Get it together! You’re Queen of an entire fucking kingdom!

You clear your throat, and with a quick shallow breath you try again.

“I’m sorry, I’m a l-little nervous. I know how important you all are to Thor and I-I know this was sudden. We were both really sorry that you couldn’t come to the wedding but I’m so glad to meet you now. My name is Y/N, and I…I think that’s it?”

Turning to Thor, you find him smiling wide, singular eye bright. He’s proud and you can see it in the way he pulls his shoulders back and moves back towards you, slipping his arm around your waist.

Both of you are wearing the real versions of his illusion now minus the coats, formal King and Queen garb abandoned in his room.

Thor’s arm is a welcome warmth.

“That was wonderful, cherub.”

“Cherub?” A snarky voice teases, and both of you turn to look at Tony Stark.

“Leave them alone, Tony. I’ve heard some of the things you call Pepper when you think we aren’t listening.” The Black Widow, Natasha, cuts in.

“Like what?”

“Pudding-pop?”

“That’s a good one.” Thor observes. “Can I borrow it?”

“All y’all being really gross.” The new Captain America, Sam, points out.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have your own pudding-pop.” Bucky sighs, moving to the back of the sofa to lean both hands on the seat and look down at his friend.

“When’s the last time you had someone call you pudding-pop, Barnes?” Sam wonders, a clear attempt at a jab.

“Uh…1943? Just after I enlisted.” He answers, no sarcasm or embarrassment about that fact.

“You both need to get a life.” Natasha points out.

“You first.” Sam retorts.

Natasha fixes him with a look of confusion before getting up and moving towards Bucky. For a moment it looks as if she’s just going to pass right by him and into the kitchen behind him, but instead she slips her arm through his metal one and leans against him gently.

“I’ve got one. Don’t I, pudding-pop?”

The silence that follows is heavy but with building energy.

Then the room explodes with exclamations of, “What?!”

“When did this happen?!”

“How long have you two been a thing?”

“Why?!”

With their attention diverted, you relax, leaning into Thor’s embrace as Natasha catches your eye and gives you a quick subtle wink.

“I thought we were gonna wait?” You hear Bucky ask Natasha over the cacophony of voices demanding information, all of them on their feet again too except for Steve who is smiling and hiding it behind his hand.

Obviously he already knew, and it’s also obvious that Natasha revealed her relationship with Bucky for your benefit and to make meeting you the secondary event of this get together and while some women would be pissed that she’s gone and stolen your spotlight, you could not be more grateful.

~~~~~~~~~~

A metallic shoulder rubs against the side of your head and you lean away, gasping because you hadn’t expected the sensation.

You’re greeted with a metallic mask, similar to those of Tony Stark’s Iron Man helmet with slight variations around the mouth. The color is also brushed silver, the body white and red. It shifts to the side a little, away from you but it tips its head down in apology like an old 18th century gentleman.

“I’m sorry. Please, excuse me while I collect your empty plates.” The robot says.

“Sorry about the A.I., Cherub.” Tony says, then gives a quiet whistle. “Hey Bud, why don’t you take the night off?”

 Beside you, Thor chuckles at Tony’s new nickname for you. He’s done nothing but call you cherub since Thor did earlier in the night. It’s going to stick, or so Steve had promised.

The A.I. straightens up and puts the plates back down before moving off down the hall and out of sight.

“Bud?” Bruce Banner asks, who insisted you call him Bruce and drop the Doctor and the last name.

You have to keep reminding yourself to do so every time you talk to him. Because you can’t seem to remember, you’ve just chosen not to talk to him until you can.

Tony gets to his feet, moving around the table to lean over you, hand placed on his jacket to keep it from swinging against you.

“B.U.D.” He repeats, each letter on its own. “Buggy and Underdeveloped. I’m working on it. I’ve got their manners down. Jarvis quality though not as reliable. Vision is helping me work out the kinks.”

“I do what I can.” Vision says, Wanda reaching around to massage the back of his shoulders.

“You’ve made all the improvements. Tony had them calling us dickheads that one week before he asked for your help.”

“It was a typo!” Tony moves around to Natasha’s plate and piles it on top of yours, then Bucky’s who mutters a nervous thanks which Tony also mutters back a somewhat stiff approval.

You’re not given much time to notice their exchange before Thor’s hand finds your thigh under the table and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You smile at him, reaching down to take his hand. “Just surprised. I’ve never been around artificial intelligence of that caliber.”

“Don’t worry, Cherub. You’ll be used to it soon. You’ll be getting an upgrade at that pretty space cottage of yours pretty soon.” Tony says, grabbing a few glasses one at a time as he moves around the table.

“I’ll help you, Stark.” Thor suddenly says and releases your hand to move around the table and grab the other plates and glasses.

Why does he call him by his last name? Habit maybe?

“Thanks,” Tony nods.

“Space cottage?” You’re not sure what he means.

“Yeah, that big wooden house you all call a palace?” Tony clarifies.

“Oh,” Silly way to look at it. “There’s steel too.”

Tony smirks, “Well, I’ll be sending some people over to get a security system installed and an advanced satellite scanner to catch any movements that might come in from—up there. With this new threat that-”

Thor coughs loudly, dropping a glass that makes a terrible shattering glass sound against the black tabletop. Bucky catches the glass and holds it still then offers it up to him again.

Tony meets Thor’s singular eyed gaze who shakes his head minutely.

“-which I guess you’re not supposed to know? Whoops.” And with that he turns and leaves the room.

You look at Thor and find him watching you, then he quickly turns and follows Tony out of the room.

Whenever you’ve read in the past that someone sees red, you’d always suspected that it was metaphorical. However, you see red as your brain short circuits and all you can feel is a level rage.

The one thing you’d asked of Thor was that he won’t keep secrets from you and here is one, not even a week after your wedding!

“Don’t worry.” Natasha interjects, getting up from her seat. “When it’s worth knowing about, Thor will tell you. He just doesn’t want you to worry.”

Your frown only grows. You can’t seem to get your sudden temper flare under control.

“You’re upset.” Steve notices, getting up when everyone also starts to rise. “Why?”

You follow their example and get to your feet, pushing your chair under the table before following them into a smaller living room space just off the main common room while trying to quell your anger.

The living room is mostly white and gray with a long sectional that is full of red pillows.

“Because I’m Queen of New Asgard.” You point out, speaking a little more firmly than you mean to.

Steve gestures to the seat at the edge of the sectional and you take it, swallowing hard as you shove some of that upset down into your tummy so that you won’t lash out at the very nice people that Thor sees as family.

“You are.” Steve agrees. “No one would argue that you aren’t.”

Does he not get it?

“He might not want me to worry, but I have a responsibility to the people of New Asgard. If something is happening that might affect them, I need to know.” You cross your arms across your chest, huffing lightly and letting that be the peak of your temper.

You don’t want to fight with Thor here in front of everyone.

The reaction isn’t what you expect.

Sam, who is sitting on the floor at the bend in the sofa leaning against it as the weight of his sleepiness begins to take over, whistles.

Long and slow.

Bucky chuckles as Natasha settles beside him, her arms crossed across her chest as she leans back into his arm.

They don’t look together even if they are, just comfortable. Bucky’s arm curves a little more for her and is the only giveaway that there’s more between them than friendship.

She smirks. On the sofa beside you, Wanda leans forward to try and get a look at your pouting face, her red curtain of hair falling over her shoulder. Vision is standing by the TV looking at a collection of records to put on a turntable that sits ready and empty.

Dr. Ban-Bruce isn’t anywhere in sight.

Steve settles in beside Wanda but closer to Sam, leaving enough room for Vision to sit when he’s finished with the music.

“Thor said you had some bite.” Natasha shares, “Said something about you standing up for Loki? What’s that about?”

You feel your cheeks burn, neck too. With a shrug, you drop your arms and clutch at the fabric of your pants by your knees.

“Yeah, dude’s pretty psycho,” Sam adds.

“Sure, yeah, because a bunch of people dressing up in costumes and going around fighting crime and otherworldly forces are completely sane.”

Shit, did you seriously just say that?

There’s a beat of silence, then, “She sounds very sensible. Now that I’ve had some time with it, I think the cape might have been a touch too far.”

Everyone chuckles, and you turn to look at Vision who finally picks an album and slips it in place.

“Sorry,” You offer, hesitating a moment before you decide to explain yourself. “Loki has been nothing but kind to me. And calling him a psycho offends me. I know you all and the rest of the planet, have issues with him and what he did…so did I, but he’s trying. And he’s family now…like you all…so…”

Your words trail off as you turn to look for Thor, but you can still see him across the common room in the kitchen, exchanging hushed words with Tony and it’s starting to rile you up again. What’s coming? What’s so important that Thor has brought in the Avengers too?

“What did Thor call it?” Bucky asks Nat.

“Bite.” Steve tells him, “She’s got bite.”

“I’d say it’s more like a sting. But she’s right. I don’t think any of us here can judge someone by their past. At least I can’t.” Bucky nods.

“Or me,” Nat agrees.

“Or me,” Wanda smiles.

And then the music starts. Vision turns, hands behind his back as he also smiles at the general pleasantries.

“Taylor Swift?” Sam demands, “Really?”

Vision’s smile vanishes and he gives him nice wide eyes of surprise, “I’ve never heard this one before.”

“Excuse me.” You get up and move towards the kitchen, determined to get an explanation while the room behind you continues to argue the merits of Vision exploring different musical avenues.

“Whose album even is that?” Sam demands.

Steve clears his throat, “I think you should both get some sleep. I want a debrief first thing in the morning. I might not be Captain America anymore, but I’m still running this show.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, you’ve never accepted the boss mantle until now. Which other albums do you have in your room that you’re too afraid to share?” Nat adds.

“Hey, I have no shame in my musical taste.” Steve defends.

As you near the kitchen, the open spaces separated only by two large circular pillars and a sleek concrete counter island, you slow as their quiet conversation begins to reach your ears. It wasn’t necessarily that you’re trying to eavesdrop…but they’re not talking about what you expected them to be talking about. So, you freeze.

Too nervous to move, forward because what the hell? Or back, because they’ll no doubt hear your retreat.

Where’s the talk about threats to the kingdom and planet? No, you get a nice dose of fear and jealousy instead.

“You only knew her for a week before you married her?”

“It was arranged. All of you knew this. I explained it the last time we met.”

“I get that, but what-” You can hear the hesitation in Tony’s voice.

Despite the fact that he knows he probably shouldn’t bring it up, he throws his dishtowel on the counter and turns around to lean against it as Thor’s hands continue to sift through the dishes, washing them slowly. “What happened to Foster? Weren’t you two pretty hot and heavy? Last time you brought her here-”

“Jane has other priorities.” Thor cuts him off, clearly still hurt from his breakup with Jane.

You hate the sound in his voice. Why does he have to be so clearly heartbroken?

“That’s all I get?” Tony asks, waiting and leaning in a little closer to Thor.

“What else would you have me say? It was hard to leave her. And if I’m honest, I still find myself thinking about what life might have become if she’d been ready to settle down.”

What?

You take a step back, wanting to get away from this horrible conversation you wish you hadn’t accidentally run into. Retreat being heard be damned!

But then, “Cherub?”

It’s Tony, a smirk in his voice as he turns to help Thor dry the dishes he sets aside.

“She is my angel.” Thor smiles, just a teeny upturn at the corners of his lips as he steals a glance at Tony.

Your heart gives a painful clench at the love that you’ve been seeing in his eye pour through in his voice.

“A celestial creature sent to me by fate. I had no knowledge of the capacities of love. I’ve only ever found love as I found Jane’s. We were met by chance, and the attraction was clear and instant. Intention as well. With my cherub, things though they grew quickly, were harder to find. I had to look past my own melancholia to see that she was there waiting for me.”

“She does look like she’s completely lost it.” Tony nudges Thor aside because he’s taking so long and takes over the washing.

“I hope you mean lost her heart to me?”

“What else? Her mind? Though why anyone would agree to rule an entire country is beyond me.”

“She’s brave.” Thor boasts, body completely relaxed. “I’ve never known anyone with her courage. The first night of our engagement she demanded that I be honest with her, even if I decided to keep Jane as a mistress.”

Tony looks at him, eyebrow quirked as he asks a voiceless question.

“Which of course, is out of the question. I entertained the thought for a bit, I can’t deny it. At the very beginning as I was making my plans to go leave Jane, to end things permanently so that I could do right by Y/N and really try to make our marriage something lasting—I wanted to keep Jane at my side by any means necessary.

“Imagining a life without her was painful and I hate to admit that I had every intention in those last moments before I saw her to ask her to be with me even after I was married.” Thor confesses, sounding torn between guilt and desperation.

You remember seeing that desperation in him before he’d gone to see Jane.

Even after his proposal to you, even after those earth-moving kisses, he’d wanted to keep Jane at his side.

Of course, he did. You shouldn’t be surprised by that. He and Jane had shared so much before you came into the picture. Before you were forced in if you’re honest.

Still, it hurts, and you hate hearing it.

For a second time, you take a step back, wanting to leave.

But then, “What changed your mind?”

Thor sighs heavily, exasperated, exhausted by something.

He crosses his large arms across his chest, black shirt straining against his biceps and pecs. He’s so massive. Standing next to Tony only accentuates that fact.

“It took her two hours to make time to speak with me, and another three before she stopped explaining her work on energy spikes in some far East quadrant of space to let me even bring up the fact I was officially engaged to someone else.

“The only reason I was able to hold off for so long is that she would come and kiss me every twenty minutes to promise that she’d be done soon.”

You hate that.

“It was the waiting around after three months of having seen her last and six months since we’d been together. I just couldn’t stand the thought of that always being my life. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want to spend my marriage waiting for a woman when another had already assured me of her commitment to rule at my side as wife and Queen.”

“Is that the only reason you’re so into your Cherub? Because she obviously likes you?”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, “No, there are many things about Y/N that draw me to her. Most of them I’ve discovered since I made the choice to really let Jane go. When I came home that night, she was there to lure me back from the pit I’d crawled myself into by telling Jane goodbye.”

Tony stops washing to fix Thor with a knowing gaze. He scoffs then turns back to his washing.

“So, the sex is good, is what you’re saying?”

“The sex is very good. Incredibly good. I have no complaints about our physical chemistry. In fact, it’s better than with Jane or anyone else I’ve ever been with. I’m not sure what it is, but we are very well suited in the bedroom. She has such vigor, such desire. I am never in no doubt of her want of me. It’s so good that I almost didn’t want to bring her here because then I’d have to give up an entire day of having her to myself wrapped up in nothing but her bedsheets.”

“Alright, I think I get the picture.” Tony holds up one soapy hand to stop Thor’s bragging. “So, she sleeps with you and makes you feel better. Jane makes you wait, so you end it for good. Did you at least give her a proper goodbye?”

Thor is silent, and this time, you don’t want to know. You’ve already guessed and have been suspecting that this is very much the case, but you don’t want the confirmation.

If that’s what happened when he went to see Jane, you don’t want to know. Even if it happened before you two were married and really together, it happened when you were already in the picture and your heart was already being swayed.

Stepping out from behind the large round pillar, one hand resting against the smooth black curve, you watch Thor think about Tony’s question, tilting his head up to look across the room towards the living room space where the Avengers are now laughing about who the hell knows what.

He sees you and his face loses color.

“Thor?”

“What’s the matter?” He asks, a small bit of panic in his voice.

He moves towards you and you move towards him, meeting halfway.

“Did you hear?” He knows, probably because of whatever is on your face that’s making him panic.

His large hands are already pushing your numerous braids back, throwing them over your shoulders gently so that he can place his hands on your neck.

“Thor,” You repeat, this time getting a hold of yourself and reaching up to grab his wrists and pull his hands down away from your face. “What’s coming?”

This is why you’d come in here, and this is what you’ll insist on knowing. Fuck everything else they were talking about. You don’t want to know, and you don’t care what happened or what Thor felt before both of you exchanged vows.

“What?”

He seems stunned by the shift of topic, despite the agony that you’d momentarily been in. His voice even cracks a little, too shocked by the change.

“The new threat,” You clarify. “This new thing that we need satellites back home for? What is it? What’s happening? I know that you probably don’t want me to worry or want to protect me or maybe you’re still thinking of me as a civilian? But I’m Queen of our kingdom, Thor. If something is coming for us, I deserve to know. I need to know what’s coming if I’m going to help you protect our people. It’s my job and I can’t do it if you don’t let me.”

“Cherub’s got a point.” Tony adds, and claps Thor on the shoulder before gathering up a tray and makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the others with a bottle of beer for each of them.

“You’re right.” Thor nods, reaching to take your hands and he pulls them up to his lips kiss away the pain that he must have seen you feeling.

He seems to know though that you don’t want to focus on that and so he doesn’t bring it up.

You can tell he wants to though. He really wants to talk about what was just said in this kitchen.

“Yes, you’re right, you should know and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want you frightened or worried when you didn’t have to be, but you’re right. As Queen, you have every right to know what might be coming. But can’t we wait to talk about it until later? Tonight perhaps? When we’re alone?”

You don’t want to agree. You want to make demands of him and make him tell you everything right now. However, you also know that you’re a little angry about what you overheard and that’s probably why your pulse is pounding in your throat, heart ramming itself against your ribcage.

“Fine.” You huff then turn to move back into the living room.

“Hey,” He coaxes you back, voice low and deep so that the others won’t hear him.

He catches your wrist and pulls you back gently.

“Did you hear us? Because if you did, when I went to leave Jane I-”

“I don’t wanna know, Thor. If you slept with her, I don’t want to know.” You sigh, stomach clenching painfully. “You did what you have to do. It’s not like you and I fell in love in any kind of traditional way. We were forced together and now we’re married. I’m not stupid.”

“Of course you aren’t, and as true as all of that is, I don’t like the way you’re talking about it.” Thor agonizes, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and further into the kitchen out of view of the others. “You’re acting as if I don’t love you, or as if it’s a farce. I love you, cherub. It happened quickly, but it is real.”

“I know that, Thor,” It’s nice to hear though, because you’re seriously feeling weak in the confidence you’d spent every night since your wedding building.

For a bit there, you’d believed wholeheartedly that Thor loves you. You still do…but the realities of Jane and how quickly he’d had to end that relationship with her because he had to marry you to give his people a Queen have been brought to light and ruptured the bubble of your new marital bliss.

It’s also suddenly very clear to you that he must still love Jane very much. Even if he loves you too. There’s no way he can move on this quickly.

“You don’t look like you do. You look sad and it’s putting knots in my stomach, love. Please don’t doubt me now.”

Fuck!

You lean forward, shoving your forehead against his wide chest. You wrap your arms around his waist and fist the back of his shirt as he brings his hands up to the sides of your head. You can feel his lips against your scalp, kissing against the large middle braid that goes down along the back of your head.

“This is so hard.” You admit, hating your jealousy.

“I wish I could take all of your strife.” He kisses your head again, an audible smack. “I’m sorry I’m the one making it for you.”

Both of you knew that this would be tricky.

“I swear to you, cherub, it’s only you. You are the only woman I want and the only being in the universe that I want to bear my children.” His words are full of truth and you look up at him to find that same honesty in his gaze.

It’s pained and sorrowful and you hate it.

“I shouldn’t have listened.” You pull yourself up against his body and push yourself up with puckered lips.

Eagerly he leans down to meet your lips with his own but he shifts his head to the side to deepen the peck you’d wanted to leave you in no doubt as to his devotion, or at the very least, his passion.

He leans down to wrap his arms around you and press you up against the side of the pillar.

“Thor…” You whisper when he pulls back to tilt his head the other way. “We’re guests here.”

The reminder cools him down and he places his hands on your hips instead while you tickle the hairs on the back of his neck.

“We should get back to your friends.”

Thor sighs heavily, hating this idea, but he knows you’re right.

He reaches up to take hold of the back of your neck, squeezing it possessively before he leans down to give you one more quick kiss.

“Tonight, I will leave you in no doubt as to my devotion and love. I promise.”

His declaration takes your breath away, and apparently Bruce’s too as he sputters a cough around his own beer as he freezes on the other side of the kitchen by the fridge where another large round pillar lines a different entrance opposite the side you’re both standing on.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Bruce says, reaching up to wipe at the beer dribble around his mouth.

Thor takes his hands back and you slip out from between him and the pillar then make your way back towards the living room feeling flushed.

As you walk back in, observing the room, Steve and Vision are currently playing an apparently rousing game of Connect Four on the floor while Nat and Bucky sit cuddled up on the far corner of the sectional, talking quietly but also giving the two battling on the floor the occasional glance.

Wanda is on her phone, typing away quickly with a beer held between her thighs. Sam is standing by the records, despite his previous griping, nodding his head as Taylor Swift’s 22 fills the space.

Tony is on his own phone, standing in the far corner of the room with a sappy smile on his own face which tells you he’s probably talking to his own wife, Pepper Potts, who couldn’t make it tonight due to a work engagement.

All of them have a beer around them or in hand, and as you make your way towards the bend in the sectional feeling a little like you’re intruding, just as your back hits the sofa a cold bottle meets your cheek.

You jump a little but turn to look and Tony holds out a sealed bottle for you.

“You okay with import? Or do you want domestic?” He asks, holding his phone to his shoulder, brows drawn together as he waits for your answer.

“This is fine, thanks.” You take the bottle and then give him a quick smile.

“Good, because then I’d have sent you down to get your own.” He assures you, but a voice from his phone calls his name and he hurries away again, phone pressed to his ear.

You look at the bottle of beer in your hands, wondering if the top is a twist but when you go to turn it the ridges hurt your hand and you stop instantly.

Just as you’re about to lean over and ask Bucky to open the bottle for you, the sectional dips beside you and heat envelops your shoulder and side as Thor sits right beside you.

“It sounds like excuses to me.” He says, looking at Bruce who sits down beside him with a bit more space allowed between them.

“It’s not an excuse,” Bruce insists. “I’m working on something that needs all of my concentration. I’ll come visit soon, I promise. I’m going to be coming with Tony for the security system installation so, I’ll get to see the palace then.”

“Thor?” You hold the bottle up for him and he takes it from you, kissing the side of your head before he simply flicks the top with his thumb and it flies off and falls right on Steve’s head.

“Hey,” He complains, but then gets distracted as Vision connects his four red chips.

“I win.” Vision declares.

“Damn,” Steve concedes. “You got me. Go again?”

Vision dumps the chips, and they start splitting them up.

“Here you are, cherub.” Thor hands you back your beer, and you take a quick drink before settling in against Thor’s side a bit more comfortably as he gives you a squeeze but continues to chat with Bruce.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor xyou #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #thor odinson x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #a wife for thor pt12

[donutloverxo]

No more waiting

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - Part two to Pink Lady.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Andy is determined to wait. But will he be able to?

Warnings - 18+ only smut (m/f), professor/student relationship, unprotected sex, dom Andy, many mentions of spanking but no actual spanking, sir kink.

Pairing - Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 3320

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You groaned as you tossed out yet another piece of clothing. Professor Barber had asked you to come to his house, so he could give you ‘private lessons’. Obviously, you had no interest in actually studying. Especially with a man who looks like Andy Barber. You intended on milking the time you did have with him by getting what you wanted.

You settled on a tight skirt that hadn’t fit you in years. It was sexy enough to be enticing but innocent enough that you could claim plausible deniability.

You are not trying to tease him. You would never! You’re just wearing a normal skirt and taking lessons like the diligent and sincere student that you are.

You whistled lowly, pulling over in front of his house, impressed by the sheer size of it. He was an actual adult with a big, sophisticated house in the suburbs. The most valuable thing you owned was a Louis Vuitton bag an ex gave you.

You couldn’t be intimidated. Not now, when you were in this deep. Checking your lipstick one last time you rang the bell, holding your books up and eagerly waiting.

After a minute he opened the door. Leaning over the frame and examining you.

You felt butterflies pool in your stomach at his casual loungewear. His sleeves rolled up, exposing his tones arms to you and those dark jeans hugging him so perfectly. You really couldn’t decide if you preferred this or those business suits.

“You’re late.” he scolded you as you rolled your eyes. Of course that’s the first thing he'd say to you. “What have I said about rolling your eyes at me?” he cocked his head to the side, as if daring you to provoke him.

You hummed in thought, “I don’t remember.... Oh yes!” you beamed as if you’d had an epiphany “to do it as often as I can!”

He stared you down for a moment before shaking his head as he chuckled. “Get in here. What am I going to do with you?”

You were about to be a smartass some more, cooking up a dirty response in your head, just to see how far you could push him but then he put his hand on your lower back. You felt shivers run up your spine, goose bumps all over your skin as you squirmed under his touch.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, shutting the door behind you.

You gulped as you nodded, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? I’m just here to study.” You laughed to ease your own nerves.

“Go sit on the table,” he instructed.

You pulled out a chair, placing your books on the dining table. He sat in front of you, nursing a beer. “Let’s start. Where do you struggle the most?”

“Can I have one too?” You were about to take the bottle from him to take but he swatted your hands away.

“Absolutely not. You need a clear head to study. And we both know you can’t handle your alcohol.”

You scoffed incredulously, “I can so! And if I can’t have it then neither should you.” you puffed your cheeks before mumbling “beer tastes gross anyway.”

“Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” he groaned pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s not forget, I’m doing you a favor here.”

“I know, maybe I could thank you for it.” you licked your lips. Thinking of his heavy cock in your mouth, the biggest you’ve ever had, it was a challenge to deep throat him. You weren’t one to just give it away for free and not expect anything in return. But... anything for professor Barber.

“That’s cute,” he said condescendingly, giving you a fake wide smile. “Now start studying or I’ll have to spank you,” he warned.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you giggled shamelessly, not really understanding how that would be a punishment, but then opened your book when he gave you a stern look.

He got up and walked to the stove check on his sauce. He just needed to get away from you for a moment and take a breather.

He hasn’t thought this through.

His original plan was to tutor you and get your grades up. So that you could graduate and he could ask you out without endangering his job and reputation. He intended to keep his hands to himself till then. One slip up and you both would have to face grave consequences.

The blow job in his office - was a mistake. Although it was too good to be something he mourned or regretted. He should’ve said no but you knew just to push his buttons. Just like the ridiculous schoolgirl skirt you were wearing tonight. Or how your tight shirt and cleavage left nothing to his imagination.

Worse of all was that fucking red lip. He hated that you had tasted him and he couldn’t even kiss you. What he wouldn’t give for just a quick peck.

“Mr Barber,” he heard you call for him and groaned as his cock stirred at your chirpy tone. He loathed just how far gone he was for you. You, sitting up so sweetly with your breasts pushed up together, certainly don’t make it any easier.

“I’m all done. Can we get on to the fun part now? Pretty please?” you cooed batting your lashes at him.

“The fun part is studying - keep telling yourself that and you might actually like it.” he suggested and you rolled your eyes again. He had half a mind to bend you over the table, lift up your skirt and pull down your panties, even though he was pretty sure you weren’t wearing any, and teach you a lesson. “Careful. Or they’ll get stuck up there.” He tapped your forehead with his finger.

“I meant the actual fun part.” Boldly, you reached over and palmed his crotch through his jeans. Not really surprised to find him aroused.

“Stop,” he gritted as he grabbed at your wrist with a bruising grip. “I told you, we’re not doing that. Not till you graduate or I’ll lose my job.”

“What about what we did in your office?” you pouted.

“That was a mistake. You left me no choice.”

You frowned, “Right. I overpowered you because you’re so weak and helpless.”

“Enough. Now study and then we can have dinner.”

“And then we have dessert?” You wiggled your brows suggestively.

“No. Then you drive back to your dorm.” he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes and sat across you, working on his cases. Maybe that would inspire you to actually get some studying done.

“Do you not like law?” he asked after over an hour.

You hummed as you heard him. Too engrossed in studying, you didn’t even register his words. You didn’t remember the last time you had concentrated so well. “Meh. It’s alright I guess. I wouldn’t wanna go to law school though.”

“Then what do you want to do?” he dropped his pen leaning back on the chair, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I don’t know. I guess what you do sounds nice,” you mumbled making notes with your glitter pens.

“Being a DA?”

“Yeah. It just sounds so hard though. Like going to law school and then being an intern for years and then working for like eighty hours a week...”

“Anything worth having is always hard to achieve.” he stated. Aware of how the same applies to his situation. He wants, no needs you, but if he wants to do this the right way - he has to wait.

“I guess you’re right.” you agreed.

After going over your notes and quizzing you, he was satisfied with your progress. He set the table for dinner.

“Good job,” he smiled, feeling his heart swell with pride. “See, you put your mind to something and you can absolutely achieve it.”

You squinted your eyes, “No spanking then?”

He chuckled “Nope. Not for now. I’m your tutor, that’s all.” he said more so to himself, to remember, to have some self control, it will pay off.

“Oh my gosh!” you moaned as the creamy tangy sauce burst your taste buds “I can’t remember the last time I ate something that wasn’t ramen.”

He shook his head “You need to eat better to study better.”

“But I don’t know how to cook!” you whined.

“Then I guess I’ll have you teach you that too.”

He helped you pack your things up, moving as slow as a sloth. Not wanting you to leave just yet. He couldn’t have enough of you. Maybe he’d ask you to stay in the guestroom. He had a perfectly good excuse, it was late. But he wasn’t sure he could trust himself to keep his hands off of you.

“Goodbye then. I’m going to quiz you tomorrow. Don’t forget.” he said walking you to his door. He turned to see you blinking up at him.

He never thought he’d be so smitten with someone so different than him. All his life he dated women his age or older. They suited his old soul much better, none of his relationships really went anywhere, maybe he was too cautious to actually let someone in. To open up enough, to reveal his true self to anyone.

But you were unlike anyone he had ever met, it was as if you were exotic. So bright - almost blinding. So young and sweet. You made him feel things he never thought he could. You could be the proverbial ying to his yang.

“Yeah yeah, I remember,” you waved him off. Still salty that you didn’t get to do any of the naughty stuff you had planned. “Is there something on my face?” You touched your cheek when you caught him staring at you. Letting out a shaky breath and cowering under his predatory gaze.

“I’ll try harder next time!” you panicked, assuming you did a bad job at studying. You tried your best. What else were you supposed to do? The idea of a spanking sounded more scary than sexy to you now.

“Fuck it,” he gritted as he crashed his lips over yours, grabbing your waist and your hip to still you. He invaded your mouth with his tongue, taking his time to explore all your nooks. Sucking your bottom lip between his lips before releasing it with a smack he pulled away. Both of you heaving and trying to catch your breath.

You threw your arms around his neck, pressing hot and quick kisses “I thought we were going to wait,” you said against his lips.

“I can’t. I thought I could. I’m only a man, you know?” he sighed as he pulled you in, exploring your body with his hands “What do you want to do?” As impatient as he was, he would never force himself on you or do anything without your permission.

“I just... I - ” Your cheeks instantly heat up as you stutter. As naughty as your filthy mind was, it had to choose this moment to betray you. “You know, you know! Oh my god,” you smacked your forehead “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Yes,” he breathed, leaning down to suck your earlobe “say it.” He peppered butterfly kisses on your jaw and down your neck. Sucking thoroughly on a spot that made you moan.

“Fine!” you huffed. Feeling his fingers ghost over your inner thighs. “Professor – sir, will you please fuck me. As in put your man missile in my special princess place.” you said in a mock seductive tone.

“Don’t sass me.” he groaned, pushing his erection into you, he put his hands on your shoulders to turn you around, lightly smacking your butt he urged you to go upstairs. “Come on, hurry up. We don’t have all night.” You did have all night but his patience, as it often did with you, was running thin.

You made yourself comfortable on his bed, working on his belt and unzipping his pants. “I’ve never been this addicted to a cock before, professor,” you husked pulling him out of his underwear and licking a firm stripe up his slit, his hand holding onto your head. “I hope you know you’re special.” you beamed at him through hooded eyes. Wrapping your lips around his weeping tip, about to swallow him whole but he pushes your head away.

“Right back at ya, honey. Now,” he laid down on his back beside you as you stared at him, so adorably confused, “come sit on my face.”

“What?!” you unintentionally screamed -in delightful horror. It had always been a fantasy of yours, so downright dirty, and you have a chance to do it with your dream man? You would be a fool to turn him down, but you were anxious, that beard between your thighs would be a bit too much for you to handle.

He didn’t give you any time to think about it, grabbing your hips and swiftly placing you on top of his head, “Oh!” you yelped at the coarse feel of his whiskers against your pussy. You held onto his short silky locks for support as he worked on steadying you “That’s - ” you were cut off when he wrapped his mouth around your clit, sucking it harshly.

“You’re already so wet,” The vibrations from his words sent a jolt up your spine “And you’re not wearing any panties,” he tutted before diving back in, determined to not stop until you’re seeing stars.

“Are you really surprised - holy shit,” you gasped as you felt his tongue prodding at your entrance before slipping in. It was so strange and new, the velvety warm feel of it was almost too good. “Oh, I’m gonna come.” you whimpered.

“No,” he pulled away “you don’t come without permission. Is that understood?”

You frantically nod your head, under any other circumstances you would’ve argued, who the hell does he think he is to deny or control your orgasms? But you were putty in his hands and desperate to have that sweet release. “Please, sir, can I come?”

“May I come.” He corrected you “You need to learn some manners.”.

And you had to supress the urge to call him names, “May I come, sir? Please.” you said breathlessly as he lapped you up.

“Yes, you may.”

You sobbed, his fingers digging into your ass and his tongue working magic on you was too good all at once. A string of curses and loud moans left your mouth, your climax hitting you in waves of pleasure, you held onto the headboard as your legs turned into jello.

“That was amazing,” you panted, mewling as he nipped at your sensitive flesh.

You got off of him, kneeling beside him as he got up, his beard drenched in your juices which he rubbed off with the back of his hand. Placing a sloppy kiss on your lips, to make you taste your own arousal, he pushed you down on his mattress and worked on ridding you of your clothes.

You pulled the helm of his shirt up “Off!” you whined. He was too far gone to chastise you so he took off his clothes, throwing them away before he got a good look at you.

He groaned at your naked form. He had thought of you while pleasuring himself more than once. He wouldn’t even be bothered to be ashamed of it. He thought of your lips and small hands wrapped around his girth, how tight and hot your cunt would feel, but most of all how beautiful you’d look when you were completely bare.

He painted a pretty picture in his head, but really, he never could do you any justice. His imagination could never be that strong.

“Is something wrong?” you bashfully averted your eyes from him.

“No. You’re just so... perfect.” he couldn’t come up with a better word.

You scoffed, “You’re just saying that. There are a million things I’d change about myself. I’m not the one who’s perfect!” you frowned. Tempted to touch his defined abs. His broad shoulders and bulky form looked ridiculously big between your legs.

“I don’t have time to argue,” He absolutely would not have you or anyone else, putting you down. Bur right now, his cock was aching to be buried in your heat. If he waited any longer he was afraid he’d burst. He lined his cock up to your entrance, watching intently as he slowly pushed in “but we will have a discussion about that, later.” he groaned as he bottomed out.

“What?” You had no idea what he was even going on about. His cock was stretching you out “It’s too big,” you cried. You felt as if you were being split in half.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can handle it. I’ll be gentle.” He was aware that he was much bigger than average. So he stayed inside you for a few moments, letting you get accustomed to his length. He slipped a hand between your joined bodies, spreading your lips open with his fingers.

“Don’t - don’t do that.” Him looking at your pussy like that, when you were so vulnerable before him made you flustered.

“Look,” he told you and you only shook your head. He sternly said your name and ordered you to look again.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, gulping as you sneaked a peek, whimpering at the sight of his girth buried inside you.

“You have such a pretty pussy you know that?” He gushed before making a ‘tch' sound and stilling your hips, stopping your pathetic attempts at wiggling them. “Wait a minute, will you?” he wasn’t done admiring you and savoring you.

“Please,” you begged as tears fell down your cheeks.

He grumbled something under his breath before pulling out of you, his tip still buried in your heat, he pushed back in forcefully.

You threw your head back, clutching your pillow tightly as his hips rutted into you. His pelvis rubbing your swollen clit every time he bottomed out.

“Can I - can I come?” you remembered to ask him even though you were too delirious to even comprehend what you we’re sayings. Everything around you slipped into an abyss. His groans echoing in the room, his bruising grip on your hip, and his cock driving into you again and again, touching all your sweet spots.

You weren’t sure you could stop yourself even if he said no. But you knew he’d never be that mean. You vaguely heard him say ‘yes' before you let go. Clenching around his length as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming anymore.

His hips stuttered, pulling his length out of you, he stroked himself above you. Your fucked out state only fuelling his aggressive jerks as spurts of his seed landed on your stomach and your titts.

He held onto your knee, swirling his cum that painted your skin so beautiful with his fingers, “Looks pretty on you,” He smeared some on your nipple before pulling it between his fingers.

“Ouch,” you grimaced as he released it. “Too sensitive right now.” you closed your eyes, already feeling drowsy.

He hummed “I’ll let you sleep for a few hours.” He used his discarded shirt to clean his cum off of you before throwing it away and pulling you in his arms. He nuzzled his nose in your hair, feeling satiated with your soft warm body against him.

“You have god tier stamina, man.” You murmured “Andy, you couldn’t even last a day. What happened to being patient? What will people say?” you giggled, burying your head in his chest.

“That’s Professor Barber to you.” he smiled, kissing your temple. Even tired, you were still a spitfire. He’d deal with all that the next day. “It was worth it.”

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

#andy barber x reader #chris evans x reader #andy x reader #andy barber x you #professor!andy barber

[merakiclosed]

Taehyung - Bunny love

》Pairing: Hybrid!Reader x Single Parent!Taehyung

》Summary: Moving around and trying to find your home that your animal side craved for, you find your love of teaching kids art. Being a rare, albino bunny hybrid, you have to hid your appearance with baggy clothes and hats. What happens when a certain little girl takes a liking to you and what happens when that little girls very single, very hot dad also takes a liking to you?

》Genre: Fluff, a little bit of angst (tiny)

》Word count: 5k

》Notes/Warnings: Fem reader, choking (not sexual), slight harassment for a very short period.

Ah this took me a long time, I couldn't think of a proper ending but I quite like the ending and how it ties it together. Enjoy ! <3

Masterlist | All messages and requests are open <3

All rights reserved © Merakiiverse. Do not repost, translate or claim as your own

Moving around to new cities wasn’t new to you but moving to an entirely different country is. You never felt like you was home, even when you was living with your parents, it never felt right. It never felt like you belonged in your little town, you never felt that warmth of finally finding comfort. Your parents said that it was because of your genetics, that when you find that warmth feeling, don’t let go because that will be your home. It will be the place where you belong.

You are now living in Seoul and you were slowly but surely getting more comfortable. The language wasn’t hard to learn, you are a fast learner after all. You found the perfect job as an art teacher for a primary school and found that your classroom was where your heart and soul was. The walls were covered in splatters of paint, the children’s artwork splayed across the three walls that didn’t occupy the interactive whiteboard. Cut outs and spiral hung across the ceiling like Christmas decorations. Luckily for you, you were only small, so you didn’t get tangled with the hanging artwork. However, trying to get them on the ceiling was hard as you were scared of heights and being at the very top of a ladder was scary.

Being an art teacher meant that you could be quite laid back as you didn’t have to worry about students not understanding nor worry about teaching them about certain words. It also didn’t require the kids to fully think as you often promoted that they should create whatever their hearts desire. Because of this, you found that the kids were a lot more happier and open to you than the other teachers causing you to get side eyed sometimes by other teachers. You just shrugged at them, kids didn’t like to learn and listen all the time, they wanted to be free for a while. You were also good with smelling emotions that the kids felt, causing you to be good with kids in general. If they were sad? Juice box and fruit. If they were angry? Give them some paint and a blank canvas, let them express what they are feeling.

The headmaster liked your teaching style and the way that you were ‘talented with children’ - their words not yours. You also really liked the headmaster for allowing you to wear whatever clothes you wanted, which was good because of your situation. The situation was the big, white, fluffy flops on top of your head and the white fuzzball that was at your lower back.

Yes, you were an albino rabbit hybrid.

Hybrids are extremely rare. Hybrids came about when some crazy scientists thought that they could create a superior race where they were stronger and smarter than humans but were more obedient. The government and animal control was involved with taking it down and not much was said on the news about the whole situation. The government made up an organisation called The Hybrid Move. They basically take care of anything to do with hybrids and make sure to keep track of them so that none of them get taken and get experimented on by other crazy scientists. They were a lovely bunch of people; you knew quite a lot of the employees as you have to keep in contact with them.

Your parents were a part of the experiment, they never talked about it much and you can’t imagine how awful the conditions were. Once they were free, they ended up having you and moved to a small town, outside of the city. Seeing as they were both hybrids, it was inevitable that you were too.

From a young age, they told you that you always had to hide your tail and ears so that nothing bad happens to you. This meant that you had to wear baggy clothes and hats in every public setting and because of this, you had very little friends as they didn’t understand why you wore hats in summer, or why you couldn’t go swimming or go to sleepovers. Many people talked about you behind your back, name-calling was common. It seemed that even if you did hide your animal features, you were still a freak. A group of boys once took it so far, that they cornered you and tried to take your hat off. This then resulted in parents coming in and you being supervised by at least one teacher at every single hour of the day.

At first, you was confused at why there wasn’t anyone else that had ears or tails. You were also confused because, “Why do I have to hide something that I can’t help, it’s my nature?”

This, in turn, led to a conversation about the hybrid experiments that your parents went through and how they are in contact with The Hybrid Move organisation.

It hurt to bend your ears into a beanie at first, but after a while you got used to it, but now, from the years of fitting your ears into your beanie, they both bent outwards permanently at the top. Your tail hurt when you snatched it on somethings, and it killed when it snagged on your clothes. You always wear flowy, long skirts and baggy pants, making sure to cut a hole in your pants and that your top was always long enough to hide the cut. You have a very, artsy aesthetic, neutral and earth colours are your thing.

You live in a little bungalow, the large backyard was filled with flowers, plants, and vegetables. At the very back of your garden, you had a small selection of overgrown trees so that if you do shift, you have your own little hideout where you can properly connect with nature without being chased by a predator. You have a little cut in the middle of your right ear because of a fox. You had to shift at least once every month, otherwise, you get extremely uncomfortable and can cause you to shift in places where you really shouldn’t.

The only downside to your job, other than the snarky teachers was that you couldn’t go to any events that they held. You couldn’t exactly go to a posh event because you would end up wearing a beanie, very classy. And, you couldn’t wear fitted clothing.

You did have two teacher friends, first being Namjoon. He teaches English and has an incredibly beautiful husband, Jin who teaches history. How lovely the both of them are, they are so in love. Jin is so nice, he likes to look after both you and Joon. He often brings in food, of course they were vegan friendly for you. As much as you love Namjoon, he is clumsy and because of this clumsiness, they found out about you being a hybrid shifter.

What happened was, after school one day, you were on the ladders, hanging up some artwork when a loud crash came behind you as Namjoon dropped his mug of coffee. You are scared of loud noises because of your sensitive ears and the mug dropping caused you to shift. They had no words when one minute you were climbing the ladder and the next there’s a white bunny on the floor. Jin went to scream but Namjoon shoved his hand over his lovers’ mouth, causing the scream to be muffled. Joon is as clumsy as he is smart, so he connected the dots fairly fast and quickly went to shut the classroom door and pick the shaking bunny up in his arms. It only took 5 minutes of Joon and Jin stroking and whispering sweet words for you to shift back- Luckily with clothes. After that fiasco and explaining everything, they were very understanding and you three became very close friends, with you often feeling like you were third wheeling.

It was coming up to the end of summer, which meant that you could no longer just sit in the sunny spots of your living room and stay up to watch the sunset. You were excited nonetheless as you got to meet a new set of students that were coming up to their last years of primary. The whole process went smoothly and after a few months, they were well on their way with their current projects.

A little girl named Sujin became particularly close to you, sometimes choosing to stay in your classroom for lunch if she noticed that you wasn’t busy. Sujin had chubby cheeks and short, black hair with a wide, boxy smile. She was incredibly talented and was always excited about coming to art class, always skipping, singing, and dancing. Sujin was also a very curious child, always asking questions. You don’t mind answering them and you don’t even mind answering the ones about your personal life because, who on earth is she going to tell that your favourite snack is strawberries? One day after school she even asked if you had found your ‘prince or princess’. It took you a while to register what she was talking about, but you answered with a big, fat nope, ‘I haven’t found my prince’. After you answered, she just ran off and giggled, a cheeky smile painting her face. You shrugged, not minding her curiosity.

December comes and it’s time for parents evening. You have talked to multiple parents, a few have you scowling as they say how you ‘don’t dress like a teacher’ or that you ‘look too unprofessional’. Whilst you’re waiting for your last appointment with Sujin, you go around the classroom and pick up the swirl cut-outs that parents hadn’t notice where hanging from ceiling, causing them to waft their arms around and destroy some of them.

You stand in the frame of the door once you are done when you hear a very distinct laugh. Sujin comes bounding in, dragging a very, very tall and very, very handsome man down the hall. You can tell straight away that this is her father, his boxy smile unmistakably the same as Sujin’s.

Your mind buffers looking at him and your animal inside goes feral, ‘He could easily protect you; he looks strong and he’s so tall, he could defend you without much energy’. You blink rapidly, trying to stop yourself from jumping on top of him asking him to be your buck. Stupid animal instincts.

You look down when you notice that the man has stopped smiling and is now starring at your feet, to find that your right foot is slightly thumbing the ground. You try to stop yourself but you’re leg ends up twitching and shaking. Ignoring it the best you can, you smile awkwardly but in Taehyungs mind, you look annoyed; you’re leg stomping with a very forced smile. He looks sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand that isn’t holding Sujin’s

“I’m sorry I’m late, the traffic was worse than I thought”

Once again, your mind malfunctions at the deepness of his voice, ‘please, earth swallow me now’ you thought. You shake your head and mumble to him that it’s fine and you wasn’t waiting that long.

You lead them into the classroom and turn around when you hear Sujin giggle as the man almost runs straight into one of the swirls from the ceiling. You really should have asked Joon if he could have taken them down beforehand. You cover your mouth when you chuckle, his sharp, dark eyes finding yours when he hears you and coughs, his cheeks blushing slightly. You stop laughing and sit down at your desk, gesturing them to do the same.

Throughout the meeting, you say various praises for Sujin as she is a literal angel and is extremely talented. You question the man, that you now know as Taehyung, if there has been artistic people in the family.

“Um, no not really, I mean, I do. I only do art as a hobby though. One day she came home and asked if she could get some art supplies because she really enjoyed your lessons and loved how she could express herself” Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of inspiring someone, even if it is a child, it’s a massive compliment for a teacher.

The meeting doesn’t last long but you do notice that the entire time, you had a very warm feeling in your heart. You felt comfort. You ignored your thoughts, deeming it to be from the warm classroom.

Just as you’re about to turn back into your classroom, his voice echoes in the, now empty, hallway, “Are you going to Parent-child Christmas dance?”

You pause in your tracks and stare wide-eyed at hm, “Uh-I-Uh”

‘Omg WORDS Y/N’ you thought

Quickly gathering your thoughts, you reply “I don’t usually go”

You see his shoulders sag as his smile falters and quickly add “I might go this time though”

You inwardly freak at your words, what were you thinking??

His boxy smile once again makes an appearance “I’ll see you there than, Ms L/N” His voice showing his excitement

Without a second thought you run to Joon’s room to get help. Oh gosh, what have you gotten yourself into?

On the night of the dance, you’re wearing an A-line dress so that it doesn’t catch your tail and your ears are free as you stand next to Namjoon and Jin who have fake bunny ear headbands on their heads. When you freaked out about going to the dance wearing a hat, they proposed that you just went without a hat. Immediately, you shot the idea down, but they suggested that if you went without a hat, they went with a headband so that you wasn’t alone.

You’re a bunch of nerves as you’re dart across the many parents and children that fill the decorated gym hall. You have to restrain your ears from moving towards every sound that they hear, not used to being uncovered. Lucky for you, many teachers were dressed up in a Christmas themes as you see many antler headbands and Santa costumes.

“Hey, you good?” Namjoon’s voice breaks you out of your trance as you look up at him with your wide eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Totally fine” You nod your head so many times, Jin thinks that your head might pop off.

“Your ears are twitching, darling” Jin says, going to rub your ears to soothe them, your body visibly relaxing at the administration.

Your eyes briefly flutter at the calming motion but soon shoot open when you hear the gym door opening. He walks in, once again, being tugged by Sujin who ditches him as soon as she sees her friends on the dance floor.

He makes eye contact with you and you can feel your face heat up. You see him take big steps towards you, not seeming to notice Jin or Namjoon who look at the both of you curiously. They step away when Taehyung gets close enough, wanting to watch the interaction from the side-lines.

You both stand side by side in silence until it’s broken by Taehyung, “I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?”

You shake your head, too nervous to speak, your ears almost twitching.

He walks off as you stare at his broad back. He looked amazing tonight as he wore a flowery coat with a black tuxedo underneath it, his hair fluffy and curly, you want to run your hands through it. His jawline is sharp, and his eyes are a deep shade of brown, you could get lost in them.

Your lost in your head by the time he comes back to you, jumping when he appears in front of you, bending his back to look into your eyes because of the height difference. Even in heels, you only just reach his shoulders.

“I bought you some strawberries, Sujin says that they are your favourite”

Your big eyes stare into his, he remembered? You told Sujin that like 2 months ago. You don’t dwell on it too long as you look at the plastic plate in his hand that is full of strawberries and snatch one so quick that Taehyung didn’t think he’s seen anyone move so fast.

His chuckle causes you to strain your head upwards to look at him with your cheeks full of strawberries. With your cheeks still full you smile shyly, some strawberry juice escaping but Taehyung just grabs a napkin and softly grabs your chin with his other hand and gently wipes it away. All you can do is look at his face, noticing that he has one monolid and one double lid, as well as having a little mole on the tip of his nose.

He doesn’t move when he is finished and just looks you in the eye, his eyes filled with curiosity of wanting to know you more and adoration because he thinks, that he might have just fallen, even if you don’t know each other fully.

Throughout the rest of the night, it’s filled with random questions and you learn a lot about this man. When your both looking at the kids dancing, you see him look at the kids with adoration and care, a smile always present on his face, you wonder why he isn’t a teacher.

However, when you think that everything is going well, it goes downhill, fast.

The music seems to be getting louder and your ears twitch slightly, you feel a whimper wanting to leave your throat at the discomfort. You turn to face Taehyung when you find that he is already looking at you, specifically, your ears.

“I’m going to get some space” you whisper to him, your voice small. You see Taehyung nod at you, still fascinated by your ears.

You walk into the hallway outside of the gym and lean against the wall, breathing heavily. You closed your eyes to try and focus on relaxing your ears from all of the sounds that surrounded you, the music booming, the sound of the AC, footsteps. Footsteps.

You looked up frantically, looking at the man that was staring at you intently, the disgusting smell he gave off showed his intentions. Frozen in place, he came up to you and slammed his hands next to your head. His lips contorted into a smirk as he dragged his hands down to your face and stroked your cheek, “I’ve been looking for you, I knew I would find you eventually”

Your throat hurt felt tight as you gulped. His hand that wasn’t on your cheek slowly caressed your figure, going down to your waist, his grip tight. You let out a whimper when he pulled your right bunny ear, your eyes filling with tears. Your animal instincts of submitting made you shake, both of your ears dropping to the back of your head.

“Aren’t you a sight, little bunny” he stated, his breath smelled like smoke, making you want to gag. Your breathing became heavier as he started to pull you closer to his taller and more muscular frame.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing” a voice growled, surrounding the empty hallway.

The man that held you turned you around to face Taehyung, one of his arms going towards your neck and the other wrapping around your waist. Your arms go up to his arm around your neck as your nails dig into his skin.

“Aw, the boyfriend has come to rescue the doe” the man snarled at Taehyung, anger radiating off him.

Taehyung’s eyes are sharp, his jaw clenched as he looked at the arms around your neck and waist but softening as he saw the tears running down your face. Taehyung saw red when the man tightens his grip on your throat, he lunges towards the both of you when the man holding you speaks.

“Did you know these pretty things are real?”

Taehyung stops, his face void of showing emotion. The man that held you pulled your ear once again as you whimpered in pain, tears finally making their way down your face. You start to cough when the lack of oxygen gets too much.

The noises and the stress of situation was getting too much for you and it was like Taehyung knew as he made eye contact with you as your ears started to twitch on their own, your tail feeling fuzzy.

The arms around you slip as you shift into your bunny form, the man stumbling slightly which gives Taehyung the perfect advantage as he runs to the man, punching him square in the face. The man hits the floor with all of his weight, his eyes shutting. You don’t have much time to think about how strong Taehyung must be to knock him out with one punch as you sprint down the hall, your small legs jumping as fast as they can to find somewhere to hide.

“Y/N wait” You hear Taehyung cry out as he runs after you.

You’re fast, but Taehyung is faster with his longer legs as he scoops you up in his arms. You kick him with your back feet, trying to get out of his grip but not with all of your force so that you don’t injure him.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine, it’s just me. You’re fine” He shushes and coes at you, calming you down, one of his hands rubs against your fur.

Taehyung slowly slumps down against the wall of the hallway, not too far away from the gym but not close enough that someone will walk down. He is still holding you as you calm down, whispering soothing words into your ears and rubbing your back. You look up at him and all you see is love in his eyes. You sit up a bit more on your back feet, your front paws going onto his chest for stability as you nudge his nose with yours. His laugh rings out down the hallway as you start to lick his cheek.

Taehyung feels a significantly heavier weight on his lap as you shift back into your human form, your legs over his sideways, your right side leaning into his chest and your hands resting near his collarbone. There are still tear tracks on your face as you look up to him with your big eyes.

“I knew these bunny ears looked scarily realistic” he chuckles, no disgust in his voice.

 You stay seated in Tae’s lap when you call the hybrid organisation, as he occasionally kisses you head when you choke on your words, encouraging and supporting you. You both sat there for a while afterwards, with his left hand wrapped around your waist and his right brushing your bunny ears. Your teeth clicking together in contentment as no words where said, none were needed.

Taehyung is nearly tackled to the floor when you both walk into the gym hall as Sujin jumps on him and wraps her arms around his neck. She babbles at how she had such a good time dancing and that one of the other girls, Yuna, showed her some dance moves. You and Taehyung laugh as she talk animatedly about it. You move your hands to brush your hands through her hair, gathering it all so that you can redo her ponytail, whilst Taehyung looks at both of you with fond eyes.

“you know, there’s a job opening for another art teacher, the other one left” your voice was soft as you glanced at Tae. His eyes looking straight at you, excitement evident. Sujin joins in, encouraging her dad to start working here. You knew that he would love the job, he is great with kids, and for your own selfish reasons, you really want him to teach by your side. When Taehyung says that he will apply, you feel warmth start to spread in your chest, a wide smile making its way onto your face.

“Daddy, look it’s a slow song, go dance with Ms. L/N” Sujin whispers into Taehyungs ear. She noticed that her daddy was looking at you when you was talking to Namjoon and Jin about something across the hall. Your ears pick up the words she spoke as you weren't fully paying attention to what Joon or Jin was talking about. You didn’t mean to, but with Tae stood there, you couldn’t help but savour every moment that you were near each other.

Taehyung puts Sujin down and walks over to you in wide strides, confidence oozing out of him. A sly smirk makes its way onto your face when you make eye contact with each other, making Tae falter in his steps.

“May I have this dance?” His voice cuts through the convocation Jin and Joon was having, both of them looking at Tae with their mouths open.

“You may” You say shyly, taking his hand.

The both of you make it to the dance floor as other parents fill up the space. You put your arms around his shoulders as he puts his on your waist, the warmth once again coming back and filling up your chest.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier” you said in a low voice, not making eye contact with him.

Taehyungs heart cracks a little at how small you sounded, “It’s completely fine, I should have gone out with you” his voice equally as low.

You look up at him and your heart beats a little bit faster. You shake your head side to side to disagree with him, neither of you could have predicted what happened.

“Ever since I met you at parents evening, I thought about you ever day. Every time I see you my heart beats erratically and there’s a warmth in my chest that I can’t explain” Tae mumbled, only for you to hear.

You place your head on his chest as you both sway to the music and whisper “I’m the same. But I have, um, something to tell you”

“My parents said that whenever I find warmth, this warmth, it’s where my home will be” you pause, “Tae, I think you’re my home”

Taehyung stops dancing, causing you both to be stood in the middle of the gym, the parents around you still swaying past both of you. You don’t separate from him nor look at him, scared of what he may say. The palpitations in your heart, the closeness and the heat in your chest have your feelings soaring, so much so, that a tear escapes your eye at the thought of him being disgusted by the words you spoke.

He raises his hand to life your chin up to meet his eyes, he briefly looks down at your lips, then back to your eyes, looking for permission. You nod slowly, standing on your tip toes as he leans down, his hand now cupping your cheek. The dim lights casted shadows onto his face, though you could see him perfectly. You can feel the hand that lays on your cheek softly, contrasting with the strong grip around your waist. Leaning closer, your lips met in a sweet kiss, all of your emotions coming to the surface. You clutches his shirt into your hands, tears now fully coating your cheeks. He pulled away slightly, his breath danced across my lips as he whispered, “I don’t think you’re my home, I know you are my home”.

You smile to brightly that it hurts your cheeks, he brings a hand up to wipe away your tears. Even with mascara smudging at the bottom of your eyes, tear stains on your cheeks and bloodshot eyes, Taehyung hasn’t something more beautiful.

3 years later

Explaining what you were to Taehyung was easy, but explaining it to a young girl, was interesting to say the least. It sent her imagination wild when she asked you to shift, she loved to give you kisses and hug you close to her.

You now lived in Taehyung’s house with Sujin, who has recently started to call you mummy. She first said it when you tucked her in bed when one day, your ears stood up to attention, eyes stinging to avoid from crying with happiness. As soon as you got to your shared bedroom with Tae, you flopped onto your side in front of him, instantly shifting to your bunny form. Tae laughed at you as he rubbed your fur and asked, once you shifted back, what caused that reaction. When you told him, he seemed to be as happy as you were.

Both of you are art teachers at the primary school. When you first properly introduced him to Namjoon and Jin, they interrogated him for a least an hour. But nonetheless, the four of you created an amazing friendship group, you could finally be yourself, your tail and all.

You smile at the thought of the four of you having a sleepover this Saturday as you pack your Taehyungs bag. You’re so happy that you get up and run to Taehyung, only to run away from him, giggling like a mad woman, “be careful love” he calls. You turn around and come back towards him at full speed and once you’re a few centimetres away from him, you start to circle his standing figure, your socks slipping on the hardwood floor. His laugh is deep as he catches you around the waist and flops you both backwards on to the sofa, cradling you in his lap. His eyes soften as you start to rub your chin on his shoulder. You relax against his body as you now start to nibble his shoulder. After being together for 3 years, Taehyung is used to this display of affection as he knows what it means – you’re happy and in love.

Taehyung kisses the top of your head once you’ve finished scenting him and pulls you closer together when Sujin bounces on top of the sofa next to you, joining in on the hug.

Your little family was perfect, and you loved it.

#btsgoldnet #taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung blurb #taehyung scenario #taehyung x reader #taehyung hybrid au #bts x reader #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts one shot #taehyung one shot #taehyung oneshot #taehyung fluff #bts taehyung #jimin #jungkook #rm #jin #suga #yoongi #jhope #bts jimin #bts jin #bts namjoon #namjoon #bts suga #bts yoongi #bts jhope #bts jungkook

[fandom-collective-writers]

Vanilla Sweetened (Napoleon Bonaparte x MC)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Napoleon Bonaparte x MC

Prompt: Ice cream

Warning: Smut!

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 1,895

Requested by: anonymous

Written by: @lordsisterxotome​ (Click here to support me on ko-fi!<3)

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Vampire or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: Wanted to get this out in time for his birthday, but it ended up being a few days late anyway. There aren’t enough hours in the day!!

       Speechless, breathless, way too hot - that was how she felt right now as her lover licked up the side of her hand, collecting the sweet, melted cream dripping down it on his tongue. 

       Heated green eyes bored into her as Napoleon hummed, licking his lips. He silently challenged her to make the next move, the white tips of his hair brushing beautifully flushed cheeks, but she was still trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. One second she’d been making ice cream, thinking it would be a nice treat for the residents of the mansion considering the summer heat, and the next second her lover’s mouth had been all over her vanilla-sweetened fingers. 

       After spending most of the day boiling and whipping and freezing, MC had thought to try some of the ice cream before giving it to the others, scooping two perfect curls of the cold confection into a bowl. As she did, she’d managed to get some of it on her hand and it quickly melted against the warmth of her skin. It just so happened that at that perfect moment, Napoleon had walked into the kitchen to the sight of her hand covered in creamy white, and after a second of surprise, he’d grabbed her hand, intent on cleaning her up and making her even dirtier in the process. 

       “N-Napoleon,” she stuttered, her cheeks hot. “W-What are you…?”

       “Tastes good,” he replied, the tip of her index finger still resting against his lips. “Is there more?”

       “Yes?” She didn’t quite know what she was agreeing to.

       “Bring some to my room,” he said, punctuating the command with a nip to her fingertip. There was something mischievous in his gaze, set aflame by desire, and she suddenly lost the ability to form coherent words, nodding eagerly instead. With a smirk he swept out of the kitchen, leaving her heart tugging after him.

       Her legs suddenly felt so weak, and she almost dropped all her hard work on the floor as she put the container of ice cream away and grabbed up the bowl she’d made. MC had to keep herself from running to Napoleon’s room, barely watching where she was going as thoughts of what was about to happen swirled through her mind in vibrant images that brought a welcome heat to her cheeks.

       Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she placed her hand on the doorknob and pushed it open, her heart thumping in her ears. She’d barely walked across the threshold before a familiar grasp snatched her up, setting the bowl in her hands aside before pinning her against the wall in a storm of hot lips and wandering hands.

       Napoleon was already half undressed, his shirt and jacket discarded in a heap on the floor, and his hands made quick work of her blouse, nearly popping the buttons in his haste to expose her clothed breasts. A knee parted her legs, hiking her skirt up, and she cried out as his thigh ground against her covered core, her hips rolling down to meet that delicious friction. 

       “N...ahh…” MC squeaked as he pulled the top of her corset down, breasts spilling into his waiting palms. “Napoleon...I need more…”

       His mouth silenced her mewls, his tongue dominating her own in a messy, vaguely sweet battle. The suffocating squeeze of the corset disappeared as he tugged the ribbons and clasps loose, growling into her mouth with the distinct sound of fabric tearing when he encountered a particularly stiff button. She yelped when his hands wrapped around the backs of her thighs and hoisted her legs around his waist, the bulge in his pants rubbing her through her soaked panties as he humped her.

       The tips of his fangs scraped over her pulse point, sending a shiver of pleasure through her body, but even then it wasn’t enough, or at least not in the way MC wanted it right now. If she didn’t slow things down, he was going to take her right there against the door...not that that would be necessarily bad, but she wanted to taste him first, wanted to see him writhe with pleasure under her touch before he bestowed that same pleasure on her.

       “Get on the bed,” she murmured against his ear, slipping one hand between their rolling bodies to palm his aching erection. Napoleon bucked against her hand, a feral glint in his glittering eyes, but did as told, setting her down to stalk away.

       Undoing the buttons of her skirt, she pulled it and her ruined panties down her legs, leaving her completely bare to her lover’s hungry gaze. The tent in his pants looked painful as she swished towards him, breasts swinging as she climbed onto the bed to kneel on all fours between his legs. Stroking one hand over his abs, she drew a deep groan from her lover when she squeezed his bulge. “Stop teasing, nunuche.”

       MC just smiled innocently, nuzzling him through his pants. “What if I want to keep going?” He growled at her mischief, but her grin just widened. “I promise you’ll enjoy it. Please?” Another squeeze convinced him, gritting his jaw as he fisted the sheets.

       “Fine...ha!...You win...Just...touch me already!”

       Giggling, she reached for his belt, freeing him from the rest of his clothing with a few awkward shuffles. Napoleon growled impatiently when she took a moment to admire him, all toned thighs and carved muscle and the swollen length pulsing between his legs, and finally relented in her teasing touches before he decided to take matters into his own hands and bend her over his lap.

       Biting her lip, she reached for the erection begging for her attention, feeling him tense as she swirled precum around the engorged head with her thumb. Her hand looked so small wrapped around him, the velvety skin hot and throbbing against her palm as she stroked him a couple of times, and she grew bolder as his abdominals tensed. His moans escalated as she squeezed him tighter and his hands fisted in her hair with a muffled groan of “God!” when she took him into her mouth, sucking softly. 

       Her other hand cupped his balls, fondling them, and she nearly gagged as his hips bucked, forcing her to take more of him into her mouth. His gaze pierced hers as MC peered up at him through her lashes, her tongue lapping at the vein that ran along the underside of his cock, and she moaned at his taste, feeling him gasp as he watched himself disappear between her lips.

       “Harder!” Napoleon grunted, his head tilting back against the pillows beautifully as she did as he asked. “Yes - ngh! - just like that! Don’t stop...my good girl...sucking me off so perfectly...making me feel so good…” His words encouraged her to move faster, hollowing her cheeks, as his hands tightened in her hair, signaling his impending climax. “If you keep - shit! - doing that, I’m going to - anhg!” He didn’t get to finish his sentence, his release triggered with a particularly hard squeeze of her hand, and she found herself yanked off of his cock to have her breasts warmed with his cum.

       The sight of him lost in the throes of pleasure, flushed and moaning as his body spasmed in release, made MC whimper, her thighs clenching around a powerful wave of arousal. So busy admiring him, she didn’t realize Napoleon was staring at her until he lunged forward to grab her, switching their positions.

       The sheets were warm against her back as she squeaked, her lover parting from her for the time it took to grab the almost forgotten bowl of ice cream from his desk. It had mostly melted by now, forming a thick, liquid puddle in the bowl, but he seemed to think it was perfect, picking it up and it swirling it around before turning his attention back to her. She had an idea of what was about to happen next, but she still gasped when the cold treat hit her skin, drizzled along her breasts and stomach and dripping over her curves.

       Dipping his finger into what was left in the bowl, he smeared it over her lips. In a flare of playfulness, she caught the digit between her lips, running her tongue across the underside of his finger in an imitation of how she’d moved it along his cock moments before. The lust in his eyes burned in response, ready to consume her, and a string of saliva connected her lips and the tip of his finger when he finally pulled it away.

       “Mind if I have a taste too?” he husked, and MC tilted her head to the side, baring her neck in submission even as a mischievous smile beckoned him to claim his treat for getting her all hot and bothered.

       “I’m all yours~”

       Climbing over her, his tongue started at her navel, licking up the ice cream in long, thorough strokes before the hot appendage caressed the underside of her breast. She mewled and sighed as he teased the skin, leaving not a single inch unloved by his hot mouth, and her arms wrapped around his neck, urging him towards her nipple. Her soft moans filled the heated air, unabashed, as he took the hardened peak into his mouth, licking and sucking the vanilla sweetened nub like candy. Napoleon paid the same attention to the other breast until he had licked up all of the sugary treat, leaving her skin faintly sweet.

       Hands gently parted her legs wider, and for a moment she thought he was going to finish what he’d started against the door earlier, but instead he moved lower, resting her legs over his shoulders. A scream of his name tore from her trembling form when his mouth met her core, his moans vibrating against her clit as he drank deep of the wetness spilling from her, and her hands clutched at the sheets, searching for some sort of stability from the sudden stimulation.

       His tongue was relentless, diving inside of her in ways that made her back arch and stars dot her vision. MC nearly came when his fingers dipped inside of her without warning, and it wasn’t long before she couldn’t decipher between his tongue, teeth, and fingers, on her clit, grabbing her ass, reaching so deep inside of her until it all became too much. A wave of hot pleasure washed over her, leaving her screaming for mercy as he continued to thrust two fingers into her fluttering core.

       Leaving a last, loving kiss to her hip, Napoleon climbed back over her as she panted, piecing herself back together from her orgasm. His hand cupped her cheek, and she hummed at the pleasant warmth, leaning into his touch as he left a soft kiss to her lips.

       “I love you,” he murmured against her, and she uttered the words back, spoken like a blessing as they passed kiss-swollen lips.

       Covered in cum and leftover ice cream, she was a sight for him and him alone, an image of want and desire that would keep him up at night with the need to satisfy his never-ending hunger for her. She tasted sweeter than any dessert as his tongue delved into her mouth, swallowing her soft whimper as he parted her legs and made their bodies one.

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