#*sigh* my brain is tired from being excited but that's kind of fine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

korereapers · 11 months

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Title: Call me (Little Sunshine)

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: D&D, Original stuff

Pairing: Ohmrom von Allmen/Barkilara

Based on this song, of course.

Warnings: Devil/Human smut, expect some things that are not... very nice (but it's loving, nevertheless)

A little explanation of the fic: When Ohmrom loses his powers because of PLOT ISSUES, he goes back on a sacred mission to the Nine Circles of Hell... To get his pact back. AKA he wants to get dick

AO3

Blood drips against the floor, seconds before a way too warm tongue traces the wound, a dangerous mouth full of sharp teeth gently sucking on it.

Ohmrom isn't looking at him, his eyes on the ground, kneeling before the devil. He is tired, emotionally drained, but this is the way he wants it.

"Hell, I really missed your taste."

Something burns inside of Ohmrom, his knees trembling, but he still doesn't move.

"You may not have my faith," he starts, his voice wavering. "But you have my loyalty. If this serves to rekindle our… bond…"

Barkilara lets out a laugh, a big hand still holding Ohmrom's wrist, the wound closing slowly as he drinks from him, exactly the amount he needs, feeling Ohmrom's exhaustion.

"I knew you were a fool, but… coming to me to make another pact with me. Really, human?"

Ohmrom sighs, looking up slightly, still too nervous to face him, physically, for a long time. Red skin, proud horns and muscles. Chains around him, for those he has wrapped around his finger. Maybe Ohmrom himself is one of them. He finds himself not caring.

"I have never been too… bright."

"You can be impulsive. I never said I didn't like that."

Ohmrom's face seems to heat up, yellow eyes scrutinizing him with something Ohmrom cannot quite read.

"I missed you," he whispers, even if he is sure that Barkilara can hear everything. This is his domain, after all. That's him, putting himself in danger, and running straight to a certain death… or worse. Just because he missed him, his sassy comments, his ancient wisdom, his care, the way he took his body and soul and made him feel that everything was fine. That he was fine, that he deserved the affection and hunger in immortal eyes.

He swears that Barkilara's expression becomes a little softer.

Ohmrom is still holding the dagger when Barkilara speaks into his mind, a silent request engraved into his brain. Ohmrom kisses him, tasting his own blood, a big hand on his back as the devil deepens the kiss, so warm it makes him feel feverish.

"Onir… so that's how your skin feels."

Sharp teeth edge around his lower lip for a second. A warning.

"Do not mention his name while you're here. It's only me and you."

There is an unsaid promise in that sentence, and Ohmrom can feel his stomach clenching in excitement. He nods, letting himself be kissed, big fingers with sharp fingernails keeping him close, tangled in his brown hair.

"Call me, and I'll come for you. That's more than he has ever done."

"That's… yeah. Okay."

He is not very eloquent when he is nervous. Insecure and timid, that may be part of his charm, but he becomes speechless when someone he cares about talks to him with such intensity. For better or worse.

His armor falls to the ground with ease, but he is still holding the dagger. Barkilara takes it from his hand and places it on his improvised throne. He may not be a devil prince, or anything close to that, but that doesn't stop him from being full of himself.

"How… it takes me ages to put it on."

Barkilara smiles against his neck, just below his ear.

"Centuries of torture, sunshine. I know your kind really well."

Jealousy bites him from the inside, and Barkilara sucks on his neck with vehemence. He could just kill him, even more now that he is in his realm, and yet… he can almost feel his eagerness to touch him, similar to Ohmrom's.

"Relax. Not the kind of torture I have reserved for you."

His words are weirdly compelling, and even if Ohmrom knows it may be some kind of spell, he doesn’t resist. He feels his muscles relaxing, his mind clear as a hand pushes him downwards with ease, almost gently, making him kneel yet again.

“But you’re going to have to use that sweet, silver tongue of yours to get what you want.”

Ohmrom blinks slowly, shaking hands trying to reach Barkilara’s pants, unbuttoning them with impatience. His head is guided towards the devil’s groin, letting out his breath just before he opens the fly.

He takes him without thinking, his previous annoyance gone in a second. A big hand guides him, keeping him in place at times, making it harder to breathe.

“Use your nose. We have talked about this.”

He feels like a scolded child, but he obeys without question. He still gasps for air when Barkilara pulls him away, his chin wet with saliva, their eyes finding each other just before he is pushed forwards again, not as hard as before, letting him do as he pleases.

He likes the way the eternal body tenses up, how breath seems to fail him from time to time, the steady grip on his nape faltering a little when Ohmrom does something especially nice with his tongue and lips. When he finds the strength to use his hands, still shaking from excitement, Barkilara shows a smile full of teeth.

“There is no need to be nervous. Everything you have to offer, I am more than eager to take it.”

Ohmrom just lets out a small chuckle.

“Likewise…”

He almost feels proud of himself when he feels the devil tense, a sound caught in his throat that Ohmrom can feel deep inside his bones.

“Not as spineless when you’re truly passionate about something…”

“Someone,” Ohmrom corrects him, his eyes unfocused. “I may lack faith in you as a god, but I have devotion to spare.”

That’s enough for Barkilara to make him stop, making him get up yet again, and crashing his lips against Ohmrom’s. It’s somewhere between affectionate and violent, and Ohmrom finds himself moaning against his mouth, a big hand palming him, apparently done with his own pleasure for the moment. Which is a shame, to be completely honest.

The thought makes Ohmrom shiver.

Barkilara doesn't kneel before anyone. The moves him without effort, even if Ohmrom is a sturdy fighter, proficient with martial weapons decades before he even dared to make a pact. Toned legs tense when the rest of his clothes are gone, his knees on Barkilara's throne, strong arms trembling when he grabs it, visibly exposed.

He feels his ears getting red.

"I'm… kind of a mess. I fought my way down here, I'm all sweaty, and bloody, and-"

"Good."

That's the end of the discussion.

The good and bad thing about Barkilara is that he knows him. He has lived in his head for months, maybe years by now. They have been partners in more than one sense for a long time. He knows what makes Ohmrom tick, which buttons to push. Not that Ohmrom doesn't have the same knowledge about him, but he is not, and never will be, cunning enough to test it all. Barkilara knows what Ohmrom likes, and it involves this… evident power imbalance you get when you're in a relationship with a being that is millenia older than you, who is also a hundred times more powerful.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

"Overthinking…" is everything Barkilara says before Ohmrom feels his tongue on his neck, tracing an old scar. Barkilara loves those. Proof that he bled, and survived nevertheless. Proof that he will keep surviving. He knows them better than Ohmrom himself, keeping track of them after every fight. Tracing them with different fingers everytime, and now, touching them with his real ones.

"You're taking your sweet time," Ohmrom half complains, almost feeling Barkilara rolling his eyes, just before he feels a smile against his back.

"Anywhere else to be?"

"Yes, I mean no, but-"

He hears a chuckle, and it's embarrassing enough as it is.

"We have both wanted this for a long time. If you were a quick fuck to me, I would have discarded you ages ago."

Fuck it, that's even more embarrassing. That's probably the closest he'll ever get to a confession, and he is fine with it. He doesn't have to talk about what he feels in his brain and body every single day.

"That doesn't mean I don't want a bite."

That, Ohmrom can grant. He relaxes his neck and shoulders, stretching his neck to one side. There is no doubt in his movements, no fear. The devil holds his head, a sulfuric breath on Ohmrom's nape before it's on his neck, drawing a line on it with his tongue.

"Just like that? That easily?"

"I don't really see why not."

Barkilara kisses the spot between his neck and shoulder, his favorite place to drink from.

"Aren't you afraid?"

Ohmrom lets out a dry chuckle.

"I'm always afraid, as you probably know."

There is a smile against his skin, lips sucking on it immediately after, warming it up. He doesn't know if it's for his sake, to make it all feel less intrusive, or if Barkilara has his own reasons. He is not complaining, though.

It does hurt. It always does, his skin sensitive to the intimate pain. In this form, he can almost feel it feeding the devil, his muscles tensing, stronger than before. There is a noise, a wordless concept in Infernal, that Ohmrom feels deep in his bones. It is expressed among whispers as the devil licks his skin downwards, following the blood's trail.

He feels a big hand around his cock, almost dwarfing it. Barkilara's voice sounds positively hungry when he speaks, and Ohmrom feels himself getting harder against his palm.

"That's it… good boy."

They are close, he realizes. So close, it doesn't take much to feel him just behind him, hard as a rock, his hand masturbating him so slowly it's driving him mad. The other hand is on his neck, grabbing his throat without strength, as if he could break him effortlessly. Because he can.

Ohmrom may be a seasoned fighter, but he is still a mortal. He is no match in strength for someone almost twice his size. Barkilara drinks from him like dealing with the sweetest delicacy, and he moans, not so secretly dying to be bent over the throne and fucked raw.

"Nuh-uh. We cannot have that yet. Now that I finally have you here…"

Ohmrom's mind goes blank for a second, his words deep inside of him.

"I… you know I won't last."

A smile curls against his neck just after a particularly wet kiss on his skin.

"I know. But that doesn't mean I'm going to be done with you just yet."

Ohmrom gulps, the hand on his neck tightening a little. Just a little.

"I can make you beg. You know I can. I can keep going until your body gives up and your mind isn't even fully here anymore."

Ohmrom just nods, trying not to focus too much on his words, trying to keep himself from coming, a thumb on his tip making it fucking harder.

"You would love that, wouldn't you? Aren't we a match made in hell…"

Ohmrom swears that his sight is getting blurry, his breath uneven, voice broken.

"Yeah, I…"

"My sweet, little toy… let me take care of you."

And just like that, he is done. He doesn't know if it's the praise mixed with the slight degradation, or the way he can feel Barkilara's hand tensing around his cock. Maybe it's the calculated tone, the words, the precise effect they have on him. As if he were important, as if he were-

"Good, you're so good."

He almost lets out a whine.

“That wasn’t fair…”

The air in the Nine Circles feels even more stagnant than ever, both the exhaustion of fighting and sex catching up to him. He feels dry blood in different places, and he blinks slowly, trying not to think about it.

“Is that a complaint?”

Ohmrom just sighs, his legs aching because of the posture. He says nothing when Barkilara’s hands help him yet again, making him sit, fingers distractedly caressing his thighs. As if trying to ease the pain a little. He doesn’t register it at first, but he is, indeed, sitting on Barkilara’s throne. They have been having sex on Barkilara’s throne. He perks up, his ears burning in embarrassment and… something else.

He looks up, yellow eyes glinting as the devil licks one of his fingers, seemingly unaware of Ohmrom’s internal turmoil. He knows that’s a lie, though. A big, fat lie.

“I… I don’t know if I can keep ruining your furniture.”

The devil raises his eyebrows, a grin going back to his features.

“Why not? I am ruining you in return. I’d say it’s a fair trade.”

This time, the heat flows everywhere in Ohmrom’s body. He swears he can feel himself blushing in places he didn’t know he could blush. He still opens his mouth, a little bit of cheekiness left in him. Even if his voice is trembling.

“Wouldn’t a fair trade be me ruining you in return?”

And, Onir be damned, he swears there is something in the air the moment he speaks. A click, somewhere, like when Brea or Cash manage to open a lock on their first try. Like one of those tomes Noire manages to crack after hours of study. Like Natura’s smile, bright under the sun, flowers in her hair, as if she understood something about the world that he doesn’t.

And in that moment, he does. He swears he does. He opens his mouth, but says nothing. Barkilara’s expression is intense, but there is no anger there. There is nothing that actually makes sense, nothing that explains the way that Barkilara gets closer to him, making him tilt his head slightly, their lips almost touching.

“You can be bright. Impulsive, but you aren’t bad at reading people, aren’t you?”

Ohmrom knows a liar when he sees one. He is one of them, after all. A coward hiding behind façades and false information. In that sense, Barkilara has always been way more honest than he is.

He does the only rational thing. He closes the gap between them, kissing him eagerly, trying not to think. There is no violence in the kiss, but Barkilara doesn’t seem to have any complaint. Both his desire and his insecurities can be felt in the air, dense as fog.

“Lord. Fuck me. I’m not going back without…”

He feels a smile against his lips. A promise.

“That was the plan from the very beginning.”

He doesn't have to ask him to get rid of his clothes. A pointy tail circles one of his ankles, a warm caress while strong hands position him. Ohmrom doesn't really know when he got hold of one of the convenient bottles he saves in his backpack, the ones that aren't full of blood to drink. The ones for more pleasurable matters.

"I'm not going to give you more than you can handle," Barkilara says, almost smugly, and Ohmrom would like to retort, but he has no reason to. He has felt his length in his mouth, and even if he can probably handle it, it's going to be a tight fit.

"I think I'd like anything you give me…" he manages to mutter, trying not to look too much at the way Barkilara coats his fingers with the oily substance. He can feel his eyes on him, and that's more than enough for his sanity.

"I know."

Even his fingers are bigger than what he is used to. Ohmrom likes bigger men in general, but this is dealing with a whole different species, and he cannot avoid tensing a little when a finger slowly gets inside of him, warmer than it should be.

"Relax…" he hears, and he feels the word in the back of his brain, reverberating inside of every nerve. He doesn't resist, and he can feel his body relaxing, accepting a second finger not long after.

He feels full. His eyes feel a little heavy, his muscles slowly regaining full agency. He tenses around the devil's fingers, the involuntary movement rewarded with a smile.

"I really, really want to feel that around my cock."

The words go straight to Ohmrom's cock, and he swears he is getting a little hard again, the fingers inside of him curling slightly, testing the waters.

The devil knows where and how to touch. He has been exploring his body for some time now, and he has known his mind for a longer time. Ohmrom bites his lower lip, trying not to make any embarrassing noise. Barkilara seems to take it as a personal challenge.

"You cannot win this game. You know that."

Ohmrom knows, but he has always been good at pretending.

"Sorry," he answers without thinking, and it's enough to earn him a chuckle.

The devil's in the details, though, and he can feel it in the way the fingers curl inside of him, the motion slow and calculated. Barkilara's arm tenses, and Ohmrom exhales when he moves, almost melting against the throne when he finds his prostate.

"Fuck, that's…"

Barkilara just hums, smiling slightly wider when Ohmrom grabs his shoulder, not to make him stop, but to get something to hold onto. The hand touches his neck, and then his face, going up to the horns and tracing one of them without thinking. It's only when he feels the devil tense, his skin slightly warmer than before, that Ohmrom stops, his hand trembling in the air.

"I never said you should stop," Barkilara says, a second before Ohmrom apologizes. "That was just unexpected… not unpleasant in the slightest."

It's Ohmrom's turn to smile a little, his hand back on one of the horn's roots. He traces the rough skin, mesmerized, and Barkilara has to remind him whose mind and body is getting wrecked. What’s the status quo of their relationship.

"Comfortable?" He asks, sardonically, and a row straight, human teeth greet him.

"Sorry. I got a little too excited."

The movements of his fingers become rougher, more insistent. Ohmrom lets out a small sigh, and Barkilara quickens the pace, enough to draw a low moan out of him.

The caress on his horns becomes more distracted, but he doesn't let go. Barkilara lets out a chuckle, oddly fond.

"Look at that… you really love it."

There is tension building up in Ohmrom's expression. His face is a little flushed again, drunk with pleasure and feelings that threaten to drown him. He looks at the devil with hungry eyes that remind him of himself. Jaw clenched, sweat on his forehead, biting his lip softly when he is afraid of being too noisy.

Barkilara's other hand travels to Ohmrom's mouth, his thumb effortlessly getting inside. If he is going to try and be silent, he at least wants to be able to feel every noise. For now.

"Bite," the devil orders, yellow eyes darkened with lust. "You won't hurt me."

Ohmrom knows it's a bad idea to be blind with trust, especially if it's towards a being like him. He still muffles his next moan with Barkilara's finger, biting it without holding back. His mouth suddenly tastes like something like blood, and his face goes white with both fear and regret. Barkilara keeps him in place, grabbing his face with the remainder of his fingers.

"Drink it."

Ohmrom does as he is told, his lips stained with the devil's blood, his eyes still wide, his body trembling. Barkilara licks his own lips, a smile back on his face. Ohmrom still doesn’t know, but that’s exactly how they’re sealing their new pact. Drinking from each other until they are linked by blood.

"You look so fucking pretty with my blood on you…"

Ohmrom moans at his words, the massage on his prostate both teasing and calculated.

Barkilara takes the thumb out of his mouth, and Ohmrom's expression seems so genuinely disappointed he wants to kiss him and make it better.

"I want to fuck you so, so bad. Would you like that?"

Ohmrom's words definitely sound like a yes, but his voice is hoarse, uneven. Barely human.

"My sweet, little pet…" Barkilara murmurs, his hand back to Ohmrom's nape, holding him dexterously, his fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him still when he kisses him. Ohmrom opens up to him eagerly, like the most delicate flower, and Barkilara feasts on it like a ravenous beast.

Ohmrom complains about the emptiness inside of him when Barkilara's fingers leave him, but he knows that something better is coming. He obeys when he is told to get up, and lets out a strangled sound when Barkilara sits on his own throne, gesturing him to get closer. A single finger telling him to take a seat on his lap, a promise between his legs, big and proud.

Barkilara's nails not so gently dig on his butt when he sits, Ohmrom's legs around the way too warm body. They have done this many times, in many different bodies, Ohmrom guiding his cock until he feels it slowly penetrating his rim, closing his eyes and enjoying their intimacy, the entangled thoughts and feelings, the pride of having such a powerful being looking at him with those eyes.

This time feels different, though.

It's not just about the length. The temperature and texture of a devil’s skin is different, and Ohmrom wonders about all of those mortal women getting pregnant by different devils, giving birth to cambions, dying during childbirth most of the time.

Ohmrom can understand how and why someone would willingly have sex with a devil. Barkilara is thick inside of him, slowly pushing himself deeper and deeper, Ohmrom's throat hoarse, his eyes bright with tears because of the intensity of what he is feeling.

He doesn’t cry, but he is awfully close. It’s all a mix between worship and degradation, about sharing your darkest parts and being… understood. About not feeling lonely anymore. Neither of them.

"Good?" The devil asks, his voice not as confident as it usually is, maybe sensing Ohmrom’s emotional turmoil.

"Perfect…" Ohmrom sighs, and Barkilara smiles, his cock pulsating at his words.

He can also like praise, after all.

He can almost feel Ohmrom's thoughts, spilling all over the place. He digs his nails into them, and the kind of satisfaction they bring him could only be compared to the physical sensation they are both feeling. Desperate, overwhelming.

He wants more of it.

The funny thing is that they don't really last long. Their limbs are entwined, hands wanting to be everywhere, Ohmrom's movements messy, Barkilara's ones so precise and yet becoming more and more erratic.

"Fucking tight…" the devil half complains, half praises. He chases Ohmrom's orgasm with insistence, even more when he feels him squirm on his lap, his cock largely ignored while his prostate receives most of the attention. His thrusts are not gentle, but also not quick or brutal like they are both used to. They can't. Not this time.

"Big… you're so…"

Ohmrom's muscles tense around him, and that's enough to push Barkilara over the edge. It's surprising, to say the least, when he had mostly forgotten about his own pleasure, wanting to grant Ohmrom his second orgasm, but not last.

Luckily for him, when he spills himself inside of him, Ohmrom seems to react to it, a tired moan masking the intensity of his own orgasm.

Ohmrom lets out a weak laugh, and Barkilara smiles in return. This human of his, he can be kind of cute when he isn’t even trying.

"Now breathe… and try to cast an eldritch blast."

Ohmrom raises his hand a little, slowly darkening because of the use of his magic. Just another proof of how linked they are. Ohmroms eyes become red, the same as when Barkilara uses his magic, and his hand starts glowing in a crimson color, even darker than it used to be.

"So, the pact…"

"It's done, yes. Rekindled."

Relief washes over Ohmrom's expression, and Barkilara shares the sentiment, but he is still not satisfied. He probably never will be.

"Don't even dare to think I am done with you, though. This was just… an appetizer of sorts."

Ohmrom's smile becomes something between a bashful and an anxious expression.

"You're going to get me killed…"

Barkilara's eyes shine, a finger tracing the human's features, but his expression remains only slightly amused. Confident. In control. Ohmrom closes his eyes, breathing down, enjoying his short rest.

"Nothing you cannot handle, sunshine."

#dnd #my stuff #ohmrom von allmen #barkilara #ohmrilara

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thatforgottenbasilisk · 4 months

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Crash and (Don't) Burn

Part 2 of The Phantom of Shinomori Prefecture Series

Words: 3732 (AO3)

Summary:

Fuyumi is reluctantly dragged out to a bar with a few of her coworkers one Friday night, and she expects it to be a noisy-and-somehow-boring evening. She expects it to be kind of a drag. She expects to be home before midnight.

She doesn't expect the sound of tires screeching outside, nor the clearly metal impact. She doesn't expect to hear the thump of someone hitting a hard surface after being sent flying.

She doesn't expect to glance outside in alarm at the sounds to see a car running over Natsuo's motorcycle.

For Whumptober 2023 Day 1, Prompt #3: "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Notes:

this is russian

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

She's crouched in front of him, one hand at the back of his neck and holding his head up, the other positioned in front of his face, with two fingers prominently held up in front of his eyes. His pupils jump around like excitable insects, flying around and bouncing from one spot to the next with no rhyme or reason to be had.

"I don't- I don't- "

Fuyumi sighs, and puts her hand down. She'd figured it was pointless, anyway. She took enough classes in psychology to know around where the vision part of the brain is, and it's right where her other hand is becoming more and more soaked with her brother's blood.

"Natsuo. I need you to calm down, try and match my breathing, okay? In and out, that's it, in and out..." He shakily tries to comply, slowing down his rapid breathing a little at a time. His eyes don't seem to be focusing on anything now that he's calming down, either, and it feels like that might not be fixed as easily as either of them hope it will. That's not to immediately say that all of this is permanent, of course, but this is definitely scaring her a bit. Not that she'll show it.

Fuyumi glances over at Natsuo's discarded helmet near the small pieces of metal and scrap that litter the sidewalk next to them, then at the skid marks in the street, and finally the wreckage of Natsuo's precious motorcycle, lying on its side in the middle of the road. She looks further down the street at where the joyriders- because that's undoubtedly what they are- speed off in their freshly scraped-up car.

She keeps putting pressure on the head wound while she fumbles with her purse with her one free hand, trying to blindly fish her phone out of it without taking her eyes off of Natsuo. When she finally grabs her phone, she nearly drops it on the ground, and she curses herself for the half-empty margarita she left in the bar a few minutes ago. It wasn't much, and she's nowhere near even being tipsy, but every bit of coordination counts right now and she's scared.

Fuck, she's scared.

"I was- I was just parked there for a minute, I was just gonna go- go g-get my takeout- "

"I know, Natsuo, I know, it's not- it's not your fault, you didn't do anything- "

"If I had just kept my helmet on for another minute, I'd be fine- "

"No, you wouldn't have, you'd have still been hit by a car, helmet or no. You're lucky, we're lucky I was here, my coworkers dragged me out tonight, I- we're so lucky. I have to- I have to call the ambulance, okay? Just, um- just keep breathing like you are, don't- don't start hyperventilating again, okay? You can do that for me, right?"

Natsuo tries to nod, she can feel the muscles in the back of his neck jerking before he aborts the attempt- it probably hurts like a bitch. "Yeah, yeah, I can do that. I'm just- I'm gonna close my eyes for a bit, maybe that'll help, not like I need 'em open now anyway... "

Fuyumi almost argues, then decides not to bother. She doubts that he'll fall asleep or anything right now, and closing his eyes would probably be good for the head injury anyway.

She looks at her phone just long enough to dial the emergency number, and then goes back to watching Natsuo. The operator asks her what the emergency is, and she tells them- she tells them where the both of them are, both of their names, and that they need an ambulance as soon as possible. She tells them that her brother was hit by a car and is still awake and talking only because most of the impact was taken by his motorcycle, clipped at a lucky angle. She doesn't say that if the car or the bike were an inch to either side of where they were, Natsuo would probably be dead. She thinks that all three of them know that without her having to voice it.

She tells the operator that Natsuo can still feel his legs, so she doesn't think there's any spinal damage. She doesn't know if he can move them, and she doesn't want him aggravating a potential injury in testing it out. She also tells the operator that he can't see a thing, though she stops talking to them long enough to ask, "Is it- is it super blurry or all dark?"

"All dark right now," Natsuo mumbles, with his eyes still closed.

Fuyumi bites back an exasperated sigh, and clarifies, "When your eyes were open, Natsu."

"It was, um. Don't know. It's real dark out here anyway, I could just be able to see if there was light- I'm not sure. I don't know."

She relays this to the operator as well as she can, and feels the need to clarify- "He's definitely concussed on top of this- "

"No 'm not," Natsuo interrupts, "If I was concussed then lights would hurt to look at. Can't be concussed if I can't see, right?" He cracks the smallest ghost of a smile at his attempted joke, and there's silence for a moment before Fuyumi bursts into abrupt, hysterical laughter. She laughs so hard that she overbalances and has to lean forward, pressing her forehead into Natsuo's chest, and it's not long before her laughter turns to desperate, terrified sobs. She chokes them down quick, though, because she can't scare Natsuo. Not now.

She can hear sirens in the distance, and curbs the impulse to hang up the phone. Instead, she just sets it on the ground, so the line remains open but she can go back to keeping Natsuo focused on the present moment.

"Hey. Hey, open your eyes, the ambulance is coming, they're going to need you to cooperate with them, okay? They're coming, I hear them, can you- can you hear the sirens?" It sounds like there's more than just the ambulance coming, judging by the noise, but maybe that's just her imagination.

Natsuo slowly opens his eyes, which seem no more focused than they were a few minutes ago. He stares listlessly ahead, and asks, quietly,

"Am I gonna die?"

Fuyumi inhales sharply, heart stuttering an even more panicked staccato, when he continues. "It- everything hurts, and I- I can't see, I smell a lot of iron and I can- I can feel the blood in my hair, Yumi. There's a lot of it, there's too much, I- I feel dizzy, I don't wanna pass out because I don't know if I'll ever wake up again- "

Natsuo cuts himself off as he nearly works himself into a panic attack, and Fuyumi puts her free hand over his heart as though to silently say, Calm down.

He takes a few unsteady breaths, and as the sirens grow ever louder, his voice is quiet enough that it's almost inaudible.

"I miss Touya, but not... not this much. I don't wanna see him yet. Is that- is that selfish?"

Fuyumi presses her hand slightly into Natsuo's chest for a moment, and responds, equally quietly, "No. It's not. You're not dying anytime soon, I promise. I promise." She doesn't correct him about Touya. Doesn't tell him about Dabi. Now isn't the time.

She sees red and blue lights reflecting off the windows of the storefronts nearby, most of them closed with the exception of a 24-hour takeout place and the bar that she vacated what feels like ages ago. Nobody's followed her out yet. Maybe they didn't see her.

Maybe they don't care.

She brushes the thought aside, and says to Natsuo, "The ambulance is almost here, I see the lights. You're going to be fine." He has to be fine. She doesn't know if she can handle it, if all her siblings were scarred, mutilated in some way. Shouto was too much. Touya was too much. Throwing in Natsuo would just be cruel.

The ambulance turns a corner, and the EMTs disembark with a stretcher. She stands on fawn's legs when they surround her brother, not wanting to crowd him or get in the way. She thinks she sees someone step on her half-forgotten phone, but she doesn't care.

Police cars trail behind the ambulance, and they park as Natsuo's loaded onto the stretcher. She doesn't recognize any of the officers that get out, but they seem to recognize her, because none of them hesitate to head straight in her direction. Maybe it's the fact that she's the only conscious civilian here, or maybe it's because her hands and arms are all spattered with drying blood.

Somebody walks up to her, a policeman who would be intimidating if it weren't for the fact that he's roughly the size and shape of Natsuo, who, while tall and muscular, doesn't hold a candle to their father. Endeavor is scarier than this man. Endeavor is scarier than anyone.

The officer doesn't say anything to her as he approaches, and maybe it's the shock of the whole thing, maybe it's because she's more distracted by the sight of the EMTs talking to her brother and strapping him to a stretcher, maybe it's both- but whatever the reason, she doesn't notice when, exactly, he handcuffs her.

She only realizes it when he tells her she's under arrest.

-----

"Miss, I suggest that you either sit down and cooperate, or we will have to restrain you further. We are authorized to use quirk suppressant handcuffs, and I do not believe that you want those instead of your current pair. Do I make myself clear?"

Fuyumi finally sits at the chair in the interrogation room, and stares up at the officer in the room with her. She hasn't met him before, and does not recognize him from anywhere before tonight.

"Am I going to get any updates about my brother, officer? I am very worried about him, considering the last time I talked to him was over two hours ago and he was convinced that he was going to die. You'll have to forgive me for being a little out of sorts."

Her breath comes out in little puffs of condensation, because the temperature around her has been steadily dropping without any conscious input on her part. She knows it's her quirk acting up, and so does the officer, most likely, considering the threat of quirk suppressant cuffs instead of anything else they could've threatened her with, such as calling her father.

The officer, for his part, sighs in a kind of exhaustion that she doesn't really believe. "You will learn about his health when we are done here. It will not take that long, so you can stop with the melodramatics and answer the questions that I ask you. Got it?"

It's a little bit funny, she thinks, if it had been Endeavor telling her to quit being "dramatic" she'd have been cowed immediately, but this man saying it just makes her want to hit him. She doesn't, that would be a terrible idea, but it still stokes the impulse in her. Instead, she nods silently, and does not acknowledge the frost that's forming on the surface of the table- only places her handcuffed wrists over the area in hopes that nobody notices before she can thaw it.

"Good. State your name for the record."

She hesitates a moment, glancing at the camera in the corner of the room. Has it been recording this whole time? She hopes that her father won't see it. He won't be happy if he sees that she was disrespectful to the police.

"Todoroki Fuyumi."

The officer nods, and says, "Miss Todoroki, you've been placed under arrest as a precautionary measure, considering that you have a precedent of driving dangerously at late hours of the night. We suspect- "

"You think I did this?" She whispers it, barely a breath, but packed full of a cold rage that even Endeavor would hesitate to provoke further.

The officer has no such self-preservation skills. "Until we get camera footage from the scene of the crime, we are not ruling it out as a possibility."

Anything else he says sounds like it's coming from underwater, drowned out by a sudden ringing in her ears. Do they really think that she would do this? Do they think she's an idiot, or worse, negligent with the safety of her own family? She would never endanger Natsuo like that. Never.

Unless, says a little voice in the back of her head, one that sounds suspiciously like Touya does now, they're using it as an excuse.

They could be. They might want to arrest her for other reasons, maybe they suspect her of something else. She remembers the interrogation not too long ago, about the Lamborghini, it wouldn't be hard for the police to put two and two together and connect that incident to who they've named the Phantom of Shinomori. It wouldn't be hard for them to connect her to their wanted man.

It wouldn't be hard for them to connect her to Touya, either, just one picture taken at the wrong moment, on the wrong night, and she's done for. They both are.

"I want my phone call," she blurts out, interrupting the officer in whatever he's saying now. She wasn't paying attention.

He stops talking and looks like he's about to start getting angry again, so she continues, "I'm under arrest. I get a phone call. I am exercising my right to a phone call." She says it firmly, without leaving room for argument, and waits for a response from the officer.

The man crosses his arms and stands in silence for a moment, before grunting, "Follow me." He seems like he's mad about it. Fine by her.

He leads her into a room with an old phone attached to the wall, the kind where she has to physically push buttons to dial a number instead of tapping at a screen. She figures that her call is probably going to be traced and recorded, no matter who she's calling. That's the question, isn't it? Who she's calling?

She doesn't like the interrogation, so she's glad that she went with her impulse to ask for her phone call, but now she doesn't know who. The way she sees it, there are only two real options, two numbers that she has memorized for emergencies like this one.

Her father's personal cell phone, the number that Natsuo, Shouto, herself and even Touya all have memorized, willingly or not, because it was one of the few things that Endeavor made sure to drill into all of them as children; or, one that was memorized much more recently, out of necessity- Touya's emergency burner phone.

The officer doesn't unlock her handcuffs. She didn't expect him to, but it's an inconvenience nonetheless. At least it gives her an excuse to hesitate, to think, before the man starts getting angry again. She's pretty sure that he doesn't know who her father is, considering the way that tonight has gone, and some snide little part of her thinks that it would be quite funny if the Number One Hero himself showed up to knock the attitude straight out of him.

She can't make her decision based on pettiness, though. She needs to put thought into this, decide if the arrest is legitimately just a precautionary measure that she's being paranoid about, or it really is a cover for questioning her about certain other offenses of hers- namely, association with a member of the League of Villains. Not that she's done anything, really, just drive and talk, but the way she's driven and the things she's talked about, well. They could come back to bite her in a way that Endeavor might not be able to save her from.

She doesn't recognize any of the officers that she's seen tonight. That lends credence to the idea that maybe it really is a precaution, maybe they just don't know her, maybe they haven't connected her to their Phantom at all. In that case, she can call her father and get this all taken care of relatively quickly, provided that he's not with Natsuo already. He might not be, considering that Natsuo had told her that he'd changed his emergency contact to be her instead of Endeavor, so he might not even know about the accident. She should call him, then, and tell him.

She'll call Touya later, then, talk to him one night when driving at speeds that Touya says would make Mom proud, tell him about this whole thing after it's all blown over. He won't take it well, considering that it was Natsu, and if they end up driving around looking for a car with scratches and damage that are consistent with what she saw tonight, then that's what they may do. She can't tell what the future holds. Calling him now would be a bad idea, anyway, too extreme for a possibility that's probably fueled more by her anxiety than anything else. If he came to pick her up, her life as she knows it would be over; no more acting like Shouto's guardian for UA, probably no way of seeing Natsuo or Mom again, not to mention her job would rinse its hands of her quicker than she could say "wait." Driving around like she does is enough of a risk, one that she's only willing to take because of the stress relief it provides, breaking out of jail would not be a good decision if she doesn't want to go scorched-earth with everything that she's made of herself so far.

Fuyumi takes one more glance around, and catches a glimpse out the slightly open door behind the officer who led her in here- passing by, looking like he's trying to sneak a glance inside, is Detective Tamakawa. He's easily recognizable due to his quirk, and the fact that his eyes widen when she accidentally makes eye contact with him.

He recognizes her. This isn't the same precinct that she saw him in last time, when she was interviewed by Detective Tsukauchi, which was the same precinct that Tamakawa had questioned her in about a month beforehand. This isn't Tamakawa's precinct, so he has no reason that she knows of to be here, especially considering the time- it's definitely after midnight by now, judging by how long she's been here and what time it was when she was at the scene of the crash with Natsuo.

She hasn't heard much noise, either. She doubts that anyone else has been booked here in the past few hours, nobody other than her.

This is either the world's greatest coincidence, or the reasoning they gave for the arrest really was just an excuse.

She's not betting her life on coincidences, so she's screwed either way. Fuyumi looks away from the officer in the doorway, and types in the number for Touya's burner phone.

It rings twice before he picks up. He doesn't bother with a greeting, just a simple "Any reason the police station is calling this number?"

Right. He wouldn't know that it's her, he wouldn't know anything about the situation, and she can't risk anybody catching onto who she's talking to until after she's made her escape. She makes an educated guess that nobody nearby speaks much Russian, and thanks her lucky stars that of Endeavor's "successful" children, only Shouto was kept isolated enough from Mom and everybody else that he couldn't pick up Mom's mother tongue.

She's tried to teach him some recently, and he seemed eager to learn, but Natsuo's going to have to pick up the slack from now on.

"Touya. I need transportation out as fast as possible. I think they know I'm in contact with you, and they probably suspect worse."

She hears a sharp intake of breath from the officer nearby when she starts speaking Russian, and his eyes dart to the big black box next to the phone- probably where the recordings are stored. They'll be able to listen to this back and translate it, so she can't be too specific, even in the relative safety of words that aren't Japanese or English.

Touya, her favorite twin brother, catches on immediately. "Give me thirty seconds. We need to get your location. Quirk suppressant cuffs?"

"No."

"Good. That makes this much easier." He hangs up, and Fuyumi numbly puts the phone back on the hook. This is it, then. The end of her life as she knows it, though really, that ended a few hours ago- the moment that car hit Natsuo's bike while he was still on it, everything was over already. She just didn't know it yet.

She sees that Tamakawa is standing still outside the doorframe, and she accidentally makes eye contact with him again. He must see something in her face that the other officer doesn't, because one moment, everything is still, and the next, he's lunging inside. He pushes past the officer by the door, and she backs up a step or two before she has to stop- something disgusting is crawling up her throat and out her mouth, some dark fluid- ah.

Touya works faster than she'd hoped.

Tamakawa reaches a hand out to grab her, maybe try to stop her from teleporting or else hitch a ride with her, but either way he's too late. His hand only grasps at empty air, and then everything's gone black.

It's only for a moment, then she sees her brother standing in front of her, a strange fleshy thing on the table next to him. Looking around, this appears to be some kind of lab, probably has something to do with those Noumus that Touya keeps talking about.

Touya, for his part, smiles in a way that pulls at his skin grafts, causing blood to bead his cheeks and slide towards his chin. He laughs, a little disbelievingly, and starts digging through his pockets.

"Let me find a lockpick and get those cuffs off you. Then you can tell me what happened."

Fuyumi doesn't say anything, just lets him enjoy his happiness while he has it. She doubts that he'll still be smiling when she finishes recounting her evening.

#mha #mha fic #my writing #the phantom of shinomori prefecture series #crash and (don't) burn #crash and (don't) burn fic

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floatingonalowvibe · 1 year

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always forever - chapter 7

Bernard pov(two days before m/n arrives)

long weeks, unmet deadlines, sleepless nights, all of the things that I'm used to at this point. It becomes the norm after a few hundred years being in the position that I am in. The constant weight of what feels like the entire world, the pressure I have found comfort in. I wouldn't necessarily call it a comfort, more like a familiarness.

The constant work of my job as the Head Elf has become one that I love, but at the same time, I find myself doubting if I ever know what in the world I am doing. With the date of Christmas coming closer and closer every passing second, the work shop and my office become the only things I see for weeks on end.

The brightness and chatter of the workshop become a blur as I go from station to station, making sure everything is alright, working fine.

The only thing that has been racking my brain is making everything go smoothly. My only worry in the world. But, I remember, at the height of my worry, soon, he would be here. Who may you ask? Why m/n of course! His letters have been very prominent on his stress about the world he lives in. His stress, constant reminders of the horrid things, the things he has mentioned to me, things that no person, especially not someone as loving, kind, and wonderful as him should have to go through. The way he talks about it, I can tell it has really taken a toll on him. Not even to mention the years of childhood trauma he has faced. I don't even know the half of it but even the little bits he trusts me with are horrid.

I can't put it into words how excited I am to see him. I can't wait to see how much his appearance has changed, since he told me he started testosterone. I have most likely made Judy’s ears bleed with how much I have talked to her about seeing him. Other than charlie, i have never really made friends with a human, and with m/n, it's an adventure story almost, getting his letters explaining his human life, how things work there, it's very interesting. And in contrast, I tell him all my life as an elf of the north pole. I laugh ( not in a mean way, that’s rude) at his amazement of how normal things are around here.

For these few weeks since Santa had told me that he would be visiting, I couldn't help but think about him. I find myself in the middle of paperwork zoning out, staring at the small trinkets on my desk, thinking of seeing him.

Other than that, I've been working hard at getting things ready for Christmas. It was only a month away, and at the pace we’re going, I can't see us hitting the quota. It frustrates me, because no matter how many times I tell the elves that it's almost time, they never listen, it's like I'm talking to a wall.

(time skip due to lack of motivation/ ability to figure out what else to write)

Finally, a time to sit down.It was the end of the day, at least of me walking around the workshop giving advice to elves that won't listen to anything that is said to them.

I sat down in my chair behind my desk, letting out a small sigh. I slipped off my hat, setting it off to the side. I stared at the pile of work on my desk, feeling something in me wanting to just rip it all up and go home. But i know i can't do that, i needed to get this done, no matter how long or tiring it was.

—-

It must have been an hour or two before I got a knock at my door. I had a few thoughts as to what it might be, maybe it’s judy. What I was not expecting when I opened my door was Curtis.

“Curtis! What in the name of snowflakes are you doing here this late at night?!”

“I could ask you the same thing.” he remarked, giving me a look of pure attitude.

I pursed my lips, looking down on him. “Well, what do you want?” I crossed my arms, already annoyed with what was happening.

“Well, Santa wanted to tell you something earlier today, but,” he paused, “ I forgot, so i'm here to tell you now.” I let out an annoyed noise, throwing my arms up in annoyment.

“Well, what was it?” I can't believe he would forget something like that. What if it was something important? What if it was about m/n??

“ he wanted me to tell you to not come into work tomorrow, due to the fact the m/n is visiting. In fact, his exact words were “ You need to rest up so you don't scare off poor m/n when he gets here”

I could feel my facial expressions change, as I relaxed.

“oh..” I was shocked. I don't know why, but i do know that i 1) never would ever disrespect Santa, And 2) never want to scare off m/n, i want him to feel welcomed.

“Well, I'm going home, and I think you should too.” I said before I turned and closed my door.

I stood in the middle of my office for a minute. How were things going to function in the workshop without me? I can’t just leave, everything will fall apart!I guess ill have to talk to Santa tomorrow.

a/n: omfg im am so sososo sorry for not posting, i just kinda lost all my motivation, and y’know life, she can be a bitch. Hopefully I can get back on track with uploading. also I feel this chapter and the next one will be a bit slow but after that I've got some big stuff coming. Make sure to drink a bunch of water and eat today <3.

#bernard the elf #bernard the head elf #bernard x reader #bernard the arch elf #bernard the elf x reader #bernard #x reader

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vaguely-concerned · 5 years

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SO I DID GET TO SEE GOOD OMENS AND TL;DR IT WAS EXCELLENT, I AM EUPHORIC

more thoughts and spoilers under the cut!

the FUCK YEEEEEEEAAAAAHs:

- mr gaiman you did it you made it even gayer I never even believed it was possible what is this 6000 years pining slowburn nonsense

*ahem* to be more serious about it I loved that the show takes the emotional throughlines from the book and somehow both heightens and deepens them.

- it really is phenomenally faithful to the book and the stuff it adds is mostly a m a z i n g. it kept me perfectly engaged despite me knowing what like 75% of the dialogue was going to be

- david tennant doesn’t quite go for the same energy as how I imagine crowley in the book -- in my head he’s more... idk how to explain it but the vibe is more someone grinning a bright fixed ‘this is totally my suave face’ grin while clearly continually going ‘oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck’ internally haha, to me he’s slightly less... mercurial? trying to play his cards closer to the chest? but you know what show!crowley is fucking hilarious too and I do like what they’ve done with him being less of an optimist at the core and more enjoying the world through his connection with aziraphale -- the sense of underlying loneliness you get in some places in the book has really been dialed up, he just wants a friend :( (which incidentally seems to be part of the reason he fe -- sauntered vaguely downwards too; he mostly wanted to hang out with someone, and today he still doesn’t really fit in with either the angels or the demons)

- I can’t believe they managed to capture the feeling of ‘Under the ash and soot that flaked his face, he looked very tired, and very pale, and very scared’ on screen; it’s one of the moments of the book that really stuck with me and it worked so well here too, especially since the fallout of the situation stays with him longer

- this version of aziraphale is just. so lovely. so so good, literal precious angel who almost got his head cut off for crepes, I totally see why crowley persevered through the ages and his own intimacy issues, good call my friend. thank you michael sheen, every time this character showed up on screen I was filled with joy and delight

- I’m completely undone by how incredibly mutual their friendship is in this -- despite crowley being the more active in asking for connection it’s obvious all the way through how much aziraphale genuinely adores him and enjoys his company (even though he knows he shouldn’t and so continually needs to give himself some plausible deniability)

when aziraphale’s voice breaks as he’s like ‘don’t go’ after they’ve argued in the park and he’s just tried to pretend they’re not even friends? hahahahahahaha ouch my fucking heart

- sister mary loquacious was the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life, give that actress all the roles she’s got the charisma of the gods

- “not only a southern pansy, sergeant -- the southern pansy” got through and it was glorious (ditto shadwell’s naming schemes, I for sure thought that wouldn’t be mentioned but it’s so incredibly funny)

- crowley repeatedly and openly just... begging aziraphale to go off to the stars with him what the fick-freckedy-fuck

- Of the horsemen Pollution was my absolute fave (so cool and unsettling and nonbinary rep!!!!!!! also they feel like the youngest horseman in such a deep way, every credit to the actress that was great) and I really enjoyed the twist on Famine, making him seem more intense and hungry himself as part of his nature as opposed to in the book where he’s basically like... diet vetinari lol

- G A B R I E L he was so perfectly awful... absolutely no redeeming features whatsoever he’s just a piece of shit all the way through and John Hamm was clearly having the time of his life with it and I too was living

- crowley crying in the bar because he lost his best friend and there’s no point to even try to run away anymore if he’s alone, he’s just waiting for the end of the world ;____________________________________________________; what an addition, such a thoughtful way to steer his character arc, wonderful, spectacular

in the book it’s more about him finding his way through the fear and desperation and having lost everything back to his core ‘actually... fuck this there’s no situation I can’t snake my way out of let’s goooooooooo’ self, which is admittedly really cool and satisfying, but it feels like a shallower thing than finally reaching a point where he can no longer pretend he doesn’t care or doesn’t want things. (also... the way his will to live reignites the moment aziraphale needs him fjskadlfhaskdhfksldhfslkahdf “I’ll come find you” INDEED fjksdafhsdlfhsdalfh)

- also a nice tiny change: the implication that reason he can drive the bentley through the flames is that he loves that car so fucking much, he’s invested so much of himself and his emotions in it over many years, like a sort of microcosm of how he feels about the actual world (and specifically humanity’s presence in it) that produced it

- the child actors were uniformly precious, and the kid who played adam got me right in the feelings. the sort of comedic sociopathy of kids thing going on in the book is downplayed, which means I was feeling all the more protective of this sweet sweet kid who just loves his dog and his friends and fjsdfklasjkh

- *sigh* my embarrassing crush on david tennant has been lying dormant these last few years, simply waiting for its chance to rise from the depths like a kraken yet again, and I am slightly unsettled that what really made it surface this time was him dressed up as evil Mary Poppins + the bathing suit, socks included. ah well the heart uh wants what it wants I guess

- crowley is awfully quick to suggest child murder for someone who’s blatantly not willing to harm a hair on a kid’s head himself lawl the two of them just juggling the ‘but maybe you could like... quickly murder him so we could avoid all this???’ ball back and forth before madame tracy finally knocks some sense into them

- the actress for madame tracy did such an amazing job that I literally forgot aziraphale wasn’t actually possessing her, ART

- fellas... is it gay to blow up a bunch of nazis for your ~*best friend*~ and save his books while actualfax romantic music swells in the background... asking for a friend

- “anywhere you want to go” :):):):) oh no

- to be Sad at you for a second here... why the fuck did aziraphale immediately assume crowley wanted the holy water to use it on himself? is there like. a story here we don’t know. is this the fallout of going to check wtf the spanish inquisition was all about. I’m almost afraid to ask

- to be even Sadder: that ‘For Terry’ made me cry and I’m not ashamed to admit it

the awwww... okay I guess you can’t have EVERYTHINGs:

- the scene where crowley and aziraphale get wasted together after the antichrist is delivered is not quite as funny as it is in my head, but then I don’t think anything in the physical world could be as funny as the way I imagine them just like somberly leaning over the table at each other with little regard for personal space and drunkenly expounding on dolphins, so I’ll forgive it

- CGI satan was completely unnecessary and not even very well designed *shrug emoji* the whole point of that scene is that we never get to see him, just the mounting dread as he’s getting closer, and then the wordless reveal of who Adam considers to be his dad and that’s all that matters and even the devil is powerless against it... loved the ~*godfathers*~ giving a little literal angel/devil on my shoulder pep talk, tho, that was incredibly sweet

- ...the maggots huh neil. couldn’t leave them out huh. what a world it would be if we didn’t get to see a bunch of people get eaten by a writhing roomful of maggots huh.

- ETA: actually one more: I refuse to accept this version of DEATH, hashtag not my reaper

#good omens #good omens spoilers #*sigh* my brain is tired from being excited but that's kind of fine #I'm sure this is not very coherent but well I don't feel all that coherent haha

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ch4nb4ng · 3 years

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Evil Roommate

pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers

warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise

requested : yes!

word count 6.2k

summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.

“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”

The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.

“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”

Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.

“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”

Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”

A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?

“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”

His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”

Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.

“Who the fuck said you could touch me?

“Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”

“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”

You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”

“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”

Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”

A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.

“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”

Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.

You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.

Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.

“Y/n?”

Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.

“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.

“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”

The arm he had around her waist made you sick.

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.

“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”

“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”

You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.

“Uh no thanks Y/N-”

“We should all hang out!”

The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.

“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”

“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.

“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”

You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling

“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”

You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.

“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”

The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.

“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”

“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.

Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.

“Hello?”

His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.

“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”

“What do you need me to do?”

You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.

“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”

“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”

“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”

“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”

“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”

And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.

You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.

“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n what are you doing-”

“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?

Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.

“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.

“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”

She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.

“Let’s play a game!”

“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.

“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”

***

Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.

“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”

Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.

“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”

“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”

“Yes you have.”

All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.

“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.

“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”

Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.

Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-

“Y/N? Y/N!”

The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.

“When?”

As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.

“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”

“I’m not saying it here in front of-”

“Who? Chaeyeon?”

Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.

“It was in the car.”

Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.

“The car?”

You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.

Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?

“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”

“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.

“Do you want this?”

“What?”

A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.

“I said, do you want this?”

“Do you?”

His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.

“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”

Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.

“Kiss me if you want me.”

He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”

You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.

“Fuck it.”

He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.

“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.

“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”

A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.

But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”

You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.

“Are you being serious right now?”

The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.

“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.

“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.

“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”

His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.

“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.

“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?

“Minho I’m-”

“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”

His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.

“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”

“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”

You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.

“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”

“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”

“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”

The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.

“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.

“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”

“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one

who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”

There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.

“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.

“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”

“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”

Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.

“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”

“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.

“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”

Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.

“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”

The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.

Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.

“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”

It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.

“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”

“You wanna cum baby?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna cum right now?”

“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.

“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”

And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.

“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.

“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”

You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.

“Why don’t you find out and see?”

#lee minho #minho #leeknow #stray kids #lino #lee minho smut #skz smut #leeknow scenario #stray kids smut #stray kids scenario #dom leeknow #dom lee minho #dom lino #lino smut #ch4nb4ng

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

The Hint

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Synopsis submitted by @jasmine11685: Peter gets jealous when you have to flirt with someone on a mission

Masterlist

“Wow.”

That was the only word Peter could say as you descended the staircase in a form fitting black dress. The slit up the side added an elegant touch, something needed for the ball you were going to.

“You look pretty “wow” yourself.” You smiled shyly as you lifted the hem of your dress to walk towards him. “The suit is a nice change from the flannels, though I do love those.”

Peter opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words formed in his brain. As soon as you put your hands on his collar to tuck it under his suit jacket, his name was lost on his and all he knew was yours.

“So this is what it’s like to be speechless.” He chuckled nervously as you straightened his jacket.

“Shut up.” You giggled as your face flushed. “Your ties a little crooked.”

“Thanks.” Peter whispered as you adjusted his tie. “You look beautiful. Like, the kind of beautiful that makes you want to cry when you look at it.”

“Thank you.” You laughed again, out of habit. You looked at Peter through your eyelashes as your shaking hands slid down his jacket.

“Nervous?” He asked softly when he noticed your unsteady demeanor.

“A little.” You smiled weakly. “It’s uh, it’s a shame I’m gonna have to waste all this beautiful on some douche who won’t appreciate it.”

“Well I appreciate it.” Peter assured you. “All of it. What is your mission exactly?”

“I just have to get some information out of Harry Osborn. Apparently he’s the only one who knows what’s his father has been doing up at Oscorp. We have to find out his plans before he does something dangerous. Could you help me with this?” You asked as you handed him a diamond necklace. You turned around and Peter carefully moved your hair off of your back.

“Oh.” He said in surprise as he clasped the necklace around your neck. “And how are you planing on getting that information?”

“I’m gonna flirt with him like my life depends on it.” You said confidently as you turned back around. “Because who knows? It might.”

Peters face twitched in confusion as his eyebrows knit together. He felt a white hot jealousy run all the way to his scalp when he learned about the plan.

“You have to flirt with that asshole?” Peter laughed nervously and cleared his throat. “He’s a total playboy. He’s probably never done his own laundry a day in his life.”

“I think I can handle him.” You winked at him as you touched your your lipstick. “And his laundry.”

“I have no doubt in your abilities. I just wish you didn’t have to use them on him.” Peter said, mostly to himself.

“It’s fine, Pete.” You assured him. “I’m actually excited to do it.”

“Excited?” Peter began to sweat.

“Yeah.” You grinned in excitement. “This is the biggest role I’ve ever had in a mission. I really want to do a good job so I can impress my dad. That means I’m gonna have to pull out my best flirting.”

“Your best flirting?” Peter was really beginning to panic now.

“Yup. I need this boy to fall in love with me.” You told him. “Watch, by the end of the night, he’ll be putty in my hands.”

“I don’t think you should do this, Y/n.” Peter blurted. “I think we should get Natasha or someone else to do it. You shouldn’t have to be the shiny object we use to distract the enemy.”

“I’m fine with it, Pete. My dad didn’t give me this role because I’m pretty. He gave me this role because I have good communication and manipulation skills. Plus, I’m closest to Harry’s age. It all works out.”

“He could be really dangerous.” Peter protested. “You could get hurt.”

“I’m really dangerous.” You stated. “And he’s definitely gonna get hurt.”

“Just be careful, okay?” Peter sighed, making you look at him. You walked over to him and cupped his face in your hands, making his breath hitch in his throat.

“I got this, Petey.” You said gently. “I know you’re worried about me, but you have no reason to be. I can do this. And you, Sam, and my dad are gonna be listening the whole time. We’re gonna catch this guy. I know it.”

“I just don’t want you getting hurt. If things go wrong-“

“They won’t.” You cut him off. “Go ask my dad. He drew up every possible outcome of this plan and they all end with Harry getting his ass kicked.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded and gave you a smile. “I’ll go talk to Mr. Stark.”

“You just had to believe in her.” Peter grouched as he barged into Tony’s office. “You just had to recognize her talent and trust her enough to carry the mission.”

“I’m sorry. Is that anger directed towards moi?” Tony touched a hand to his chest. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yeah, I am.” Peter said. “You know I like Y/n and sent her off to flirt with the richest playboy in New York City?”

“Hey.” Tony said sternly. “Playboy is my thing.”

“Why did you have to make her do this job?” Peter whined. “She’s gonna fall in love with him and forget all about me.”

“He’s a criminal, Peter.” Tony reminded him.

“So? Girls love that!” He protested. “You remember how she acted around Loki.”

“Don’t remind me.” Tony rolled his eyes. Peters face shifted back to his forlorn expression and Tony saw how much this was hurting him.

“Look, kid, don’t sweat this mission.” He said as he put a hand on Peters shoulder. “She’s just gonna get the information she needs from Harry and you’ll never have to worry about him again. You can go right back to your little will-they-won’t-they bullshit or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I have a plan.” Peter insisted. “And Harry is going to put a serious wrench in my plan, thanks to you.”

“You have a plan?” Tony doubted. “Ive been watching you pine after my daughter for years. When is this plan going into action exactly?”

“I’m just going to think really hard about how I’m in love with her and wait until she realizes.” Peter mumbled as he adverted his eyes.

“Yeah?” Tony cocked his head. “And how’s that going for you?”

“I think she’s just about to get the hint.” Peter said and Tony let out a groan.

“Kid, just ask her out.” He reasoned. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She could hear me.” Peter stated. “And then say no.”

“She’s never gonna take the hint unless you actually give her the hint.” Tony reasoned. “Why don’t you try tonight? She’ll be all giddy from successfully completing the mission. Perfect time to confess those bottled up feelings.”

“I don’t know.” Peter sighed. “Maybe.”

An hour later, you were making eyes at Harry from the bar. After locking eyes a few times, you signaled for him to come over.

“Hey.” Harry knocked on the bar twice and looked down at you. He sized you up before smiling in approval and sending you a nod.

“Hey.” You gave him a sultry smile as he sat down.

“You all by yourself?” He asked as he drummed his fingers on the bar.

“I was.” You took a sip and looked at him through your lashes. “Until you came along.”

“Mind if I stay?” He raised an eyebrow as he flagged down the bartender. You made a face as he ordered a drink before smiling at him.

“I prefer it.” You flirted.

“Good.” He accepted his drink and took a long sip. “I don’t like being told no.”

“Then you better give me something to say yes to.” You leaned on your hand and leaned towards him. Inside, you were gagging at his arrogance. On the outside, you were eating it up.

And that made two of you.

“Oh God.” Peter gagged as he listened to the banter through his ear piece. “This is torture.”

Sam, who was standing next to him as they both kept an eye on you, gave Peter a look.

“Relax, kid.” He sighed. “She’s just doing her job.”

“You’re a pretty bold girl. I like that.” Harry cupped your chin before releasing it. “Just not as bold as me.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow, grabbed his drink, and downed the rest before slamming the glass down. “How about now?”

“Oh, you are going to get me into trouble.” Harry chuckled and he scooted closer to you. Peter watched in disdain as the jealousy coursed through his veins again.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” You crawled. “Don’t you like trouble?”

“I love it.” He insisted as he held out his hand. “My names Harry Osborn. You’ve probably heard of me.”

“I have.” You smirked as you shook his hand. “I’m Y/n.”

“Why is she talking like that?” Peter whined upon hearing your flirty tone. “She never talks like that.”

“Because she’s not trying to sleep with you, dummy. Thats why.” Sam snorted as he continued to watch.

“What?” Peter snapped his head towards Sam. “She’s not trying to sleep with that guy. She’s just getting information out of him.”

“Yeah well, guys tend to talk a lot more once you’ve tired them out.” Sam shrugged as he sipped his own drink. Pete’s face fell as he stared Harry down with daggers in his eyes.

“She wouldn’t do that.” Peter mumbled.

“Shhh.” Sam waved his hand. “I’m trying to listen.”

“So,” you took another sip from your drink, “Whats it like being the son of one of the most powerful men in the city? Wasn’t your dad like, 25 when he founded Oscorp.”

“23, but who’s keeping score.” Harry shrugged as he looked around the room. “I’ll probably do something like that soon. Maybe something even bigger. I already have a lot of ideas. Pretty impressive, huh?”

“Totally.” You egged him on but rolled your eyes when he looked away. “Do you ever get to watch his experiments?”

“Baby, I’ve seen just about all of them.” Harry bragged as he played with your dangling earrings. “He’s done things you wouldn’t believe. Things that aren’t even legal.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes widened in excitement and you leaned in closer. “Like what?”

“I can’t tell you here.” Harry pulled away suddenly and sighed. “I don’t want anyone hearing.”

“Alright.” You purposefully took the bait. “Then let’s talk somewhere else.”

“Do you know a place?” He played nonchalant as he put a hand on your knee. Peter watched the scene in front of him and looked away.

“Yeah. My bedroom.” You smirked and stood up. “Let’s go there.”

“Bold.” Harry rubbed his hands together and stood up as well. “You’re dangerous.”

You took his hand and lead him towards the elevator, feeling the gun that was strapped to your thigh brush against your leg as you walked.

“You have no idea.” You mumbled. You passed Sam and Peter and gave them a nod as you lead Harry towards his interrogation. Peter looked like he was ready to fight someone and Sam looked entirely amused. You gave them a thumbs up before leading Harry upstairs.

“What’s the craziest thing your dad has done?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. You flicked your leg out and pretended to examine your heels to draw his attention. Harry took the bait and held your ankle in his hands, admiring the fancy shoes Mr. Stark had given you for the mission.

“Why do you want to know?” He asked coyly as he looked up at you.

“Because I like to get a little crazy myself and I want to know how much you can handle.” You shrugged as you shook your hair out. Peter gulped as he listened, feeling his jaw tighten in anger. Tony joined him and Sam at their post and looked around for you and Harry.

“How’s the mission going?” He asked when he didn’t see you anywhere.

“Horrible.” Peter grumbled.

“She didn’t get him to the secondary location?” Tony worried.

“She did.” Sam cut in. “Peters just mad that his girlfriend just found herself a boyfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter snapped. “Maybe she would have been if Mr. Stark wasn’t a destroyer of young love.”

“Parker, quiet.” Sam commanded. “I’m trying to listen.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Harry folded his arms as he looked down on you.

“You can trust me.” You told him as you reached up to grab his tie. You used it to pull yourself up and off the bed before planting a kiss right on his mouth.

“What was that?” Peter touched his fingertips to his ear piece when he heard silence from your end.” Why did she pause?”

“She didn’t pause.” Sam shook his head as he checked his watch.

“Then what-“

“She kissed him.” Tony cut in while giving Peter an apologetic look.

“She kissed him?” All the color drained from Peters face and Tony felt he was to blame.

“You know the Green Goblin?” Harry asked once you pulled away.

“Yeah.”

“That’s my dad.” Harry admitted, and Tony and Sam quickly wrote it down.

“No way.” You pretended to be impressed. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. He was dying so he invented this serum to keep himself alive. It ended up giving him all these crazy abilities.” Harry boasted, incriminating himself further. “And he’s got this glider that he can fly around on. You’d love it. It’s very shiny.”

“Wow. I love shiny.” You gushed, fighting the urge to punch him in the throat then and there. “How much serum did he make?”

“He has one more vile that he said he’d give to me when I’m older.” Harry tweaked his eyebrow as he smirked.

“So you’re gonna be the next Green Goblin? Isnt he a bit of a bad guy?” You continued to draw information out of him as your fingers danced around his collar.

“Maybe I am bad guy.” Harry shrugged. “Like father, like son.”

Harry leaned in to kiss you again but you dodged it and laughed as you moved away.

“Bad, huh?” You composed yourself so you wouldn’t be suspicious. “What else has he done?”

“He gave one of our scientists these metal arms. They can rip a person in half. Ive seen it happen.” Harry continued to brag and you recorded every word of it.

“Dr. Occtavius.” Tony realized. “That’s how he got his weapons.”

“Thats crazy.” You gasped and played with his hair. “What’s your dad gonna do?”

“He’s basically forming a league of bad guys.” Harry shrugged like it was no big deal. “Guys way worse than the Avengers.”

“Does he have a problem with the Avengers?” You wondered.

“My dad hates them. I hate them too.” Harry scoffed and you held back a laugh. “That’s why we’re gonna wipe them out. New York can’t rely on a bunch of guys in dress up, and we’re gonna show them that.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“With an attack on New York City on the 8th.” Harry told you, and Tony immediately wrote it down. “The Avengers won’t know what hit them.”

“That sounds pretty scary. Will you keep me safe?” You batted your eyelashes at him and he ate it up.

“I can’t listen to this.” Peter took out his earpiece and slammed it on the counter. “I’m going in there.”

“Parker! Stay where you are and - you know what? I don’t care.” Sam shrugged it off and continued to listen to your conversation.

“Of course baby.” He cupped your face in his hands. “It’s gonna be a direct hit on the Avengers tower. A pretty thing like you won’t be anywhere near there.”

“Actually”, you took his hands off your face and dropped your smile, “I will.”

“What?” Harry’s face faltered at your sudden mood change.

“Did you get that guys?” You touched your fingers to your ear piece and waited for the confirmation. “Copy that, dad.”

“What?” Harry’s face twisted in anger. “You’re an Avenger?”

“Look at you! So smart. You figured it out.” You said sarcastically.

“No.” Harry shook his head. “I don’t believe you. There’s no way you’re an Avenger. You’re my age and a chick.”

“Not just an Avenger. I’m a Stark too. Want me to prove it to you?” You asked casually.

“How?” Harry raised an eyebrow. You gave him a swift punch to the throat that knocked him on his back.

“Like that.” You blew your hair off your forehead as you checked your nails.

“You bitch.” Harry wheezed from the floor.

“You see, I can’t have you and your father attacking my friends.” You crouched down beside him and shrugged. “I’m gonna have to take you in.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Harry swiped at you but you dodged it.

“I know. But this cute little microphone recorded everything you said and sent it to the police.” You pouted and pointed to your mic. “They should be here soon. You might want to wipe the lipstick off your face before the get here.”

“I’m not going to prison.” Harry grumbled as he sat up.

“Aw, but you are.” You said as you pulled him off the floor and put his hands behind his back. “Daddy can’t bail you out of this one, like how he bailed you out of your 17 parking tickets.”

“How do you know about that?” Harry asked as he looked over his shoulder at you.

“I know everything, bitch.” You leaned into his ear to growl.

“No. I’m not going down for this.” Harry broke out of your hold and swung at you. You dodged the first one, but he got you right in the jaw with the second one. You stood up and got ready to fight him as he put his fists up.

“You’re not even that pretty.” He exclaimed as he swung at you again. Right as his fist collided with your face, Peter burst in the door.

“Yes she is!” Peter shouted as he jumped on Harry’s back. Harry threw Peter onto the bed and lunged for you again. You close-lined him with your arm and dug your heel into his back once he was on the ground.

“Peter? What are you doing here?” You asked as you stepped on Harry’s back harder with your heel. “I got this.”

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Peter panted as he got off the bed.

“You won’t get away with this. I will sue!” Harry writhed around beneath your heel.

“Can it wait?” You asked as you pulled Harry off the ground. “I’m a little busy.”

“It can’t wait.” Peter shook his head as you shoved Harry against the wall. “There’s something I’ve been holding in for a long time and I need to tell you.”

“I wouldn’t even bother dude.” Harry said with his face squished against the wall. “She’s a total bitch.”

“Was I talking to you?” Peter growled before shooting a web at Harry’s wrists to handcuff him.

“Ohhh I see.” Harry laughed humorlessly. “Spiderman is mad that I stole his girlfriend.”

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to have a conversation here.” You barked at Harry. “I’m sorry, Peter. Please continue.”

“I didn’t want you to flirt with Harry tonight because you can do a lot more than just sit still and look pretty.” Peter began.

“I know that, Peter.” You nodded.

“I also didn’t want you to flirt with him because I was jealous.” He confessed.

“Jealous?” You asked as you put Harry in the hotel chair and began to tie him up.

“He likes you, stupid.” Harry grumbled. You shot Harry and angry look, but when you looked back at Peter, he was nodded.

“He’s right.” Peter admitted , taking you by surprise.

“You like me?” You lips twitched into a smile as you tightened Harry’s rope. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was scared you wouldn’t like me back. You’re my best friend, Y/n.” Peter said softly. “If you didn’t like me back, everything would change. We’d still be friends but it wouldn’t be the same. I didn’t want to risk that.”

“I’m sorry.” You frowned. “I should’ve been more clear then.”

“Do you seriously have to do this here?” Harry whined and you smacked him on the back of the head.

“Clear about what?” Peter wondered.

“That I like you too.” You smiled sheepishly at him. Tony listened to the confession over the ear pierce and smiled to himself.

“There you go kid.” He mumbled to himself. “She got the hint.”

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #iron dad

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ryangosking · 2 years

Text

You Know Me

Summary: You wonder if you did the right thing breaking up with Peter.

Warnings: Little bit of smut and fluff.

Peter Parker (NWH Andrew) x gender neutral reader.

"Hey there's Spiderman!" Your date, Rob exclaims, wide-eyed.

Shit. You knew it was a mistake getting a terrace table.

"Oh really." You murmur, hoping to sound disinterested, eyes stuck to your menu.

"Yeah, look, he just stopped that guy from getting mugged!"

"I'm fine, thanks." You say, reaching for your wine.

"Seriously?" Rob asks, astonished. "No excitement at all?"

"I live in New York, I've seen Spiderman lots of times." You shrug. Plus I've seen him naked lots of times, your brain adds. No, not a good revelation on a first date.

"I'm going to go over and shake his hand." Rob announces, pushing away from the table and standing.

You grab his arm and pull him back down. "NO!"

He stares at you, shocked. "What the hell is your problem?"

The date ends soon after that.

You know exactly what your problem is, you muse later, when you're finally at home in your pj's. It had been six weeks since you and Peter had broken up and you still weren't sure you'd done the right thing.

You had grown tired of him standing you up, or being late all of the time. Granted, he usually had a valid excuse - the superhero thing - but you wanted more. It became clear that you hadn't realised what you were getting into.

The problem is that you miss him terribly - his humour, gentleness and kindness. Rob was perfectly nice but something was missing, even before Spiderman had (unintentionally) crashed the date. The problem is, he isn't Peter.

Later that evening, you're engrossed in a serial killer documentary, when there's a sharp tap at the widow. You squeal in fright and actually jump on the sofa. It's him, Peter, maskless and motioning you to let him in.

"Shit." You mutter, getting up.

"Hi." Peter smiles, as you open the window and your heart aches a little.

"What are you doing here?" You swallow, automatically stepping back to let him in.

He practically falls inside, steadying himself against the wall. "Who is he?" Peter asks, breathlessly.

"What? Who? Are you alright?"

"The guy you were with tonight. I saw you, on the terrace." He says quietly, his brown eyes sad.

"Oh. His name's Rob. Not that it's any of your business." You say, as sharply as you can.

"Were you on a date?"

"Again, none of your business. You should go, Peter." You murmur, trying to avoid his gaze.

"What's he like?"

You sigh, exasperated. "He's nice, okay? He's a nice guy."

Peter chuckles. "Boring you mean."

"There's nothing wrong with being nice, Peter. "

"Hey, I was nice to you." Peter winces as he limps over to the sofa.

"Just not reliable." You mutter. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah I just twisted my knee. I'll be fine in a sec." Peter says, massaging his leg.

You want to gather him in your arms like you used to, kiss the top of his head and make it all better.

You get him a glass of water and sit in the armchair.

"I didn't like it." He says, finally, still concentrating on his leg. "Seeing you with someone else."

"It's been six weeks, Peter." You say, softly.

"I know, believe me. I've counted every minute. I miss you. "

"What do you miss?" You scoff. "We could barely scrape a date together."

"Just you." He smiles, looking over. "Being with you, holding you. "

You feel yourself weakening. This was crazy, you were obviously both missing each other.

But you find a little strength from somewhere. "I need more."

Peter nods. "I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dropped by like this."

He gets up gingerly.

"At least let me get some ice." You offer, reluctant to see him leave.

"I'll be fine." He says with a crooked smile, opening the window. "You know me."

* * * *

The rest of the week is a write off, you can't concentrate on anything for thinking about Peter. You find yourself constantly looking at the sky in the hopes of spotting him.

Seeing him, being in his company again, had reignited all sorts of feelings. Had you been too hasty in ending it? Yes, your schedules were somewhat....incompatible but the nights he would come to you almost made the lack of social interaction worth it.

Sometimes he just wanted comfort after a tough night, to be held and cuddled.

Other nights he wanted something else, and he'd kiss you until your lips felt swollen, touch you until you couldn't take it any longer and he'd slip inside you like you were made for him. If Peter felt particularly frustrated he'd be a little rougher with you, turning you over and slamming into you as you gripped the headboard. Afterwards he'd pull you to his chest, kiss you tenderly and murmur sweetness into your ear.

So you think that you're dreaming a few nights later when you hear the bedroom window slide open. It's still relatively early, you've only just dropped off. Alarmed, you gasp and sit up. It's Peter.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to see you again." He says softly.

"It's okay." You murmur, pushing the covers back so he can get in.

His body is like a furnace as usual. Without saying anything, you wrap arms around each other, Peter lays his head on your chest and you stroke his hair until you both fall asleep.

You wake up positions reversed, and you're snuggled into his chest.

"Hey." Peter murmurs as you lift your head.

"Hey. Are you okay?" You ask, looking at him.

"I am now." He sighs, touching your face. "Look, I know that I wasn't the best boyfriend-"

"Shhh." You hush him with a kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair.

Peter moans into your mouth and pulls you on top of him.

"Are you sure?" He asks, hoarsely.

You answer with another kiss.

#peter parker x gender neutral reader #peter parker x gn!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm peter x reader #andrew garfield

149 notes · View notes

noteguk · 3 years

Text

pretty in pink | kth | m

— summary; in which you try to rekindle your sex life with a devilish plan and a very sexy, very pink set of langerie.

— contents and warnings; smut, a bit of fluff, marriage au, taehyung x reader, mischievous use of lingerie, dirty talk, dom!tae x sub!reader, pretty heavy dom/sub themes, constant use of the word “sir”, begging, Tae has a big dick, cock worship, blowjob, deepthroat, cum eating, fingering, hair pulling, a bit of praise, degradation (use of slut/cockslut), but also use of pet names (honey, love, baby, doll…), mentions of cum play, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, impreg kink if you squint, being nasty in the name of love

— words; 6,4k

— author’s note; homies… this is basically one long smut scene. There are like 3 paragraphs of context. Brain empty no excuse.

Requested by anon! Requests are currently closed.

By the time that Taehyung got home, you had pretty much forgotten you had a plan in the first place.

He removed his shoes after closing the door behind him, his coat hanging over his forearm and an expression of exhaustion plastered all over his face. “Hi, honey,” he called, only slightly aware of your silhouette coming out of the kitchen and into the living room. “How was your day?”

Now, you see, your day had two main parts. The first (the usual one), was the part that started as soon as your husband left home for work, and you made your unceremonious walk towards the kitchen table, where you proceeded to work yourself. A few years back, you had managed to score an amazing job in the tech industry which allowed you to work mostly from home, and get a great salary while you’re at it — one downside, though, was that things started to get a bit lonely as your husband’s hours increased.

You knew that Taehyung wasn’t doing it on purpose: he was working hard for a promotion, one that could considerably improve your living situation, and you wouldn’t shoot his plans down like that. But it was a bit disheartening to see him leaving so early and getting home so late, sometimes only after you had already gone to bed. And, besides the emotional void growing inside of you, there was also the sexual one you needed to take care of.

Which leads you to the second part of your day. The scheming one.

You and Taehyung used to have an extremely active sex life, practically fucking like rabbits throughout your dating, engagement, and marriage phases. But now things had started to cool down — really, no one’s fault: Taehyung was too tired most days and you felt too moody — and you had started to grow a bit desperate. It wasn’t as if the two of you never had sex anymore, it was just mostly a very vanilla, very boring, once-every-weekend-maybe kind of thing.

All that being said, it’s understandable why you had started to construct a plan to rekindle that old, dying-out flame of yours. You didn’t want to do anything crazy — regardless of how interesting the idea of handcuffing your husband was, you didn’t think the best approach would be to scare him away from the get-go — so you eventually settled for a few things he particularly liked from back in the dating days.

(You felt so old thinking that.)

Number one: baby pink lingerie, the lacy kind. You didn’t know what kind of intense reaction it unleashed in your husband’s primal brain, but you knew that those were his favorites, and that Taehyung never stopped until he could take them off you. For that special occasion, you had even gone out and bought yourself a new set, matched with some semi-transparent thigh high socks that you also knew he loved. Cover all that up with a loose satin robe (the same color, of course), and you were ready to go.

Number two: a healthy amount of roleplay, matched with absolute submission from your part. Now, that’s where the money was: even if, by some curse placed on him by working countless hours in a corporate, hyper-capitalist job, Taehyung didn’t react to your very sexy, very skimpy set of new lingerie, you knew that would get a reaction out of him. It was exactly the dynamic the two of you liked the most, and you still remembered exactly how to push his buttons.

It was a perfect plan.

Only, you forgot about it.

“It was fine, finally finished coding that page after a bazillion years,” you responded, placing your mug on the coffee table before throwing yourself on the couch. The signs of old age were approaching: your back hurt so much that you could only think about sleeping for the next ten hours. “And yours?”

Taehyung hadn’t really looked at you yet, instead fighting to hang his coat next to the door. “It was good, actually. My boss told me he has some good news to tell me tomorrow.”

Your eyes lit up. “You’re getting that promotion?”

He sighed. “Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t wanna get any expectations, you know my boss. Maybe he’ll just give me a new stapl— What the hell do you have on?”

You paused, looking down at yourself. Oh. Yeah. You had forgotten about that. Or, rather, you forgot about the second part of your plan — because your very pink, very exposed underwear was staring you right in the face.

Still, you managed to keep yourself composed. “It’s new, do you like it?” You smiled, pulling your satin robe to the side. It exposed your breasts, made Taehyung clench his jaw at the sight. You needed to snap into submissive mode soon enough if you wanted that to work, but you also needed a few seconds to center yourself. “Baby?”

You watched as your husband blinked his way back into reality, taking a hesitant step towards you. You wanted to laugh: Taehyung was looking at you like there was a tiger in his living room, and he was trying to find out the best possible approach to deal with it.

And that was the perfect time to strike.

You pouted, hand slithering down to the level of your waist so you could untie the loose knot of the robe. “You don’t like it, sir?” The innocent inflection of your voice made his eyes snap up at yours, something dark starting to swim on the bottom of his irises. He was catching the drift. “I bought it just for you.” The robe was pushed to the side, presenting him with the glorious view of your panties; those socks that made him want to bury his face between your thighs. Taehyung took another step in your direction. “If you want, I can change into something else.”

Just like magic, Taehyung’s expression of exhaustion had been casted away, replaced by one of sheer, unshakable lust. Your breath almost got stuck in your throat as he placed his hands inside the pockets of his pants and took a few silent steps towards the couch. “Don’t change it,” he spoke up. His voice was deep and velvety, shot straight down to your core. “You look beautiful, love.”

You smiled as he sat down next to you. “Thank you, sir.”

“Of course.” Taehyung’s large hand cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his warm touch. His calm disposition was a threatening thing, it got you on edge as his gaze trailed down to your lips; your breasts; your thighs. He hummed. “Want my doll to look pretty for me.”

“Yes, sir,” you said promptly. His eyes were back on yours in no time, thumb caressing your bottom lip. “Can you kiss me, sir?”

His hand brushed down your face, moving onto your neck. Taehyung was thinking of what to do to you, and you were kind enough to wait. “Does my baby want a kiss?” He asked and you nodded. “Very well. Sit on my lap, love.”

You could barely contain your excitement as you followed his order, one leg moving over his thighs so you could straddle him. Taehyung sighed in content as you sat on his erection, which only made the arousal between your legs grow.

“My girl is beautiful, isn’t she?” He mumbled to himself, hands swiftly pulling your robe down your shoulders. A cold breeze embraced your body as the discarded piece of clothing fell somewhere on the floor. “But so, so quick to misbehave.”

Your heartbeat quickened. “I didn’t misbehave, sir.”

“You did, love,” Taehyung spoke slowly, as if he was talking to a child. His movements were tender when he pushed your hair away from your face, but you knew there was wickedness hiding in those still waters. “You are trying to provoke me.”

“I’m not,” you lied.

“You are.” His hands placed themselves on your waist, pulling your body closer to his. They were a bit firmer than before, spreading goosebumps through your skin as they slithered down your lower back, palming your ass cheeks. “You put this on because you wanted me to fuck you, baby. Don’t lie to me now.”

Your hand started playing with his tie, eyes following the movement of your fingers so you could avoid his penetrative gaze. “Sorry, sir.”

His finger found the underside of your chin, pushing it up. You couldn’t escape those eyes, he wouldn’t allow you to. “Why are you apologizing?” He asked calmly. His other hand was still firm on your ass, squeezing the flesh. “I’m not mad. I just find it funny.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Funny?” You echoed.

“Yes, doll,” Taehyung said. “Funny the lengths you go to just because you want my cock.”

Heat exploded on your cheeks at his dirty words, your own speech getting stuck in your throat. You were in trouble, and it was exactly what you had been looking for.

“Hm? Not gonna say anything?” He egged you on, leaning his head to the side. You wanted to touch him, to kiss him, but you knew that things would follow his own pace. “My baby’s so horny for cock she’s not gonna even answer me?”

His words were suffocating you, earning a timid roll of your hips against his hard member. Your underwear was absolutely soaked and you could barely think straight. “I want you, sir,” was what you managed to get out.

“I know,” Taehyung said, his tone so nonchalant, so passive. His knuckles brushed tenderly against your cheek, a sly smirk curling up on his lips. “My pretty little slut just wants to get fucked so bad, doesn’t she?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He hummed, the corners of his lips moving down in disapproval. “Yes…?”

“Yes, sir,” you were quick to correct yourself, hands slithering up his shoulders and behind his neck. It was electrifying how Taehyung managed to get you so worked up so quickly, his unbothered stare burning holes on your skin. You felt so small like that, and you knew he was getting high on the power play. Some things never change. “Sorry, sir.”

“Mhm.” Taehyung didn’t grant you forgiveness so fast, instead leaning back on the couch and analyzing your demeanor. “I don’t know if you deserve my cock, though.”

You blinked, not hesitating for a second. “I do deserve it, sir.”

He scoffed, both of his hands back on your waist. His palms were heavy and warm against your skin, and you could not hold back the thought of having his fingers moving in and out of you. No matter how many times Taehyung touched you, his hands were just so big that he got you seeing stars in no time, filling you up and reaching deep inside you in ways that your own fingers never could. “Show me, then.” His firm voice broke your reveries, digits pressing down on your naked flesh. “You can kiss me now.”

Obedient, you leaned in and trapped his mouth in yours. It was a different world when Taehyung was in that headspace — often, he would kiss you so eagerly, so hungry for more, but, now, his mouth was barely following yours; a disinterested hum melting past his throat, silently daring you to try harder, to show him that you were worth his time. You dug your fingers in his soft hair and placed your tongue inside his mouth, trying to be the best you could be for him and, yet, it seemed as if he was deadset on giving you the bare minimum reaction.

At the same time, you still felt the effects of that kiss, your body heating up as you moaned against his mouth. Taehyung’s hands had traveled downwards and were now tugging at your panties, pulling them up and burying them between your asschecks. It made your back arch; there was a slight pressure on your clit that got you grinding down on his cock. He sighed at that, sucking on your tongue as one of his hands slithered beneath your panties, harshly groping your ass.

You swore he was just about to get into it when he decided to pull away. Slightly breathless and completely overwhelmed, you could only watch as Taehyung tilted his head to the side and, just as nonchalant as before, asked, “What do we say, doll?”

Lucky you, you knew the answer to that question. “Thank you, sir.”

“Very well.” He caressed your cheek once more, eyes trapped on the swell of your lips. Taehyung’s mind was flickering through the details of you — your breasts, your thighs, the perfect weight of your center against his — as he slowly figured out what he wanted to do to you. At last, he made up his mind. “On your knees.”

To move away from his embrace seemed to be a medieval sort of torture, but you did as he told you. You were on your knees in no time, the harsh wooden floor hurting your flesh when you looked up at him, expectant.

Taehyung leaned forward, trapping your chin between his fingers. “So pretty, aren’t you, doll?” He asked, voice velvety and slow. “Wanna be good for me?”

You nodded, eager to please him.

With a deep exhale, he moved back, spreading his arms over the couch’s back. “Good. Take my cock out,” he commanded. You stared up at him for a second too long, waiting to see if that was a test. It was a bit suspicious, after all: he used to tease you for far longer than that before even allowing you to touch him. And, because Taehyung knew you very well, he caught your trail of thought quickly enough. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Go on.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, just to be sure, and took your hands to his pants. Taehyung had chosen one of his most beautiful suits to work that day, and the dark grey shade did not conceal his erection in the slightest.

The smallest of things got you waiting for more: the sound of his pants being pulled down, apparently so loud in that silent living room; the gradual rise and fall of his chest; the wet mark on his underwear and the straining of his hard, leaking cock against the fabric. It was a good kind of anticipation, for you loved when Taehyung got you on the edge like that, unsure of what would follow, of how he would treat you.

Truth was: you loved being good for him, loved treating him as well as you could. Above all, you loved when he praised you for it, all warm touches and kind regards. But also, you adored when he made you work for those praises, glancing down at you like you were bothering him, like you couldn’t do anything right, not even pleasure him.

His cock was out soon after, heavy in your hands. Taehyung managed to control his demeanor rather well, but you could see that he was extremely turned on: tip reddened and covered in his precum, his length fully hard and throbbing as you gave him a small, tentative pump.

“Spit on it,” he said. “Come on, you know better than to touch me dry.”

You nodded, doing as he told you. A big glob of saliva dripped down onto his member, which you used to help with your movements. Saliva wasn’t lube, that’s true, but it did manage to calm down his attitude for a bit.

Being married meant that you had grown extremely used to each other’s bodies and, just like Taehyung knew your weak spots like the back of his hand, you knew his. Soon enough, you had your tongue trailing the underside of his cock, placing a special pressure on his frenulum. Taehyung inhaled sharply, hands digging to the sofa cushions as you lethargically continued your actions, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip and tasting his precum.

“In your mouth,” he ordered, “now.”

Eager to please him, your lips wrapped around his crown and you gradually began sinking down on him. Taehyung was thick, always gave you a hard time as you slowly grew used to his size inside your mouth; a strangled moan perishing in your throat as you took him in. Above you, the man groaned in satisfaction, one of his large hands resting on the back of your head.

“Move.”

You agreed with a whimper, closing your eyes as your mouth moved up and down on his member, cheeks hollowing every time you sucked him. Taehyung got you just the way that he liked: so small beneath him, with your doll-like eyes looking up at him through a thin curtain of your tears. He always thought you looked so pretty with his cock inside your mouth, your perfect lips and tongue making him lose his mind.

“Fuck. Such a good cockslut.” He raised his hips just enough to reach deeper inside your throat, making you gag around him. The sound was beautiful to his ears, turned into a much more heavenly symphony when it quickly morphed into a muffled moan. Taehyung loved watching you struggle with his size, it made him want to break you apart. “You like my cock, baby?”

You nodded, but it seemed like it wasn’t enough. Taehyung tugged in your hair, signaling that he wanted you to remove your mouth from him. He needed to hear you say it, and you were beyond happy to oblige. “I love it, sir,” you told him, your voice a bit groggy from your previous act. “So much. It’s so huge.”

“Suck it harder, then.” His own voice was a bit airy, not so rough around the edges. He must’ve been close. “Show me how much you love it.”

This time, just a simple nod from your part satisfied him, for he allowed your mouth to wrap around his cock once again. Without hesitation, you did as he told you to, sucking his cock harder, taking it deeper than you were before. Your new approach was a gift from god, it appeared, because it took you no time to have Taehyung’s animosity meeting away.

“That’s it, that’s my dirty girl,” he praised, fingers intertwined in your hair. You could feel his big cock throbbing inside your mouth, releasing precum. It was just a matter of time before he spilled himself inside your mouth. “Gonna make me cum like a good slut.”

You moaned around him, one hand moving down to play with his balls. Taehyung hissed at the sensation, throwing his head back and groaning something you couldn’t quite grasp. There were beautiful droplets of sweat accumulating just above his white collar — it was almost humiliating how naked you felt when compared to his dressed, composed self — and this thick neck seemed to be calling for you, wishing that you’d place hot, messy kisses all over it. But you couldn’t do it just yet, not when he was about to cum down your throat.

Taehyung’s breath hitched and you instantly knew that he was just there. A couple more seconds and your theory was proven right: he grunted as his hot cum filled your mouth, a vague rising of his hips making his tip hit the back of your throat. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Don’t swallow yet.”

Oh he was in that mood, it seemed.

Apparently your plan had worked better than expected, because it had been a long time since Taehyung didn’t ask you to swallow his cum right away. As much as he adored when you did that, he also loved seeing his cum on you — splattered on your abdomen, on your tits, on your ass; maybe running between your pussy lips after he was done fucking you or, in that case, in your mouth. You didn’t quite understand the appeal that it had, but who were you to judge?

You removed his cock from your mouth soon after, filled with expectation as he shifted above you, leaning in closer. You blinked up at him as his hand found the underside of your jaw.

“Let me see.” Taehyung pulled on your chin and you quickly got your cue, opening your mouth. A flash of lust shimmered inside his eyes at the sight of his cum inside your mouth, the corner of his lips being tugged upwards into a satisfied smirk. “Perfect. Swallow now.” He closed your mouth.

Once again, you did as he commanded. “Thank you, sir,” you said. The discomfort between your legs was growing at a fast progression, monopolizing your mind — you had already been so good to your husband, did everything that he told you to, and now your own arousal was getting the best of you. You shifted around on the ground, your knees still hurting a bit. “Sir, please…”

Taehyung hummed, caressing your cheek. “What is it?”

“I'm so horny, I wanna cum,” you whined.

“Is that so?” Taehyung questioned, thumb caressing your bottom lip. It was a bit swollen after you had blown him, made him want to bite it. Instead, he leaned back against the couch. “Stand up.”

You fumbled as you got up to your feet, unsure of what to do next. Luckily, you didn’t have to think about it for long, because Taehyung soon gripped you by the hips and pulled you closer to him, your shins knocking on the sofa. His fingers were surprisingly tender as they slowly navigated towards your pussy, pulling the dainty pink fabric aside. “Love the color,” he mumbled as if he was talking to himself. You were just about to thank him, but your words were ripped out of you when his finger sunk between your folds. “Look at my girl. Got this wet just by sucking my cock, baby?” He looked up at you. You felt dizzy under his intense gaze, barely nodding in return. He smiled. “How dirty.”

You wanted to touch him, to find support on his broad shoulders, but you didn’t know if you were allowed to. Instead, you merely gasped as Taehyung started toying with your sensitive entrance, feeling as if your legs would fail you at any time. “Sir, please,” you pleaded once more, “I need you.”

He hummed, one finger slowly entering you. You practically melted as Taehyung added a second one right away, curling them up in the way you loved so much. “Yes, darling, I heard you.” But it didn’t seem like he did, for his hungry gaze was trapped on the sinking of his digits inside your tight hole. You were so on edge that you could cum just like that; a few desperate whimpers already dripping from your lips as he continued his movements. Your sounds seemed to drag him back to reality, though, for he was soon removing them from your pussy, ignoring your frustrated cries. “Go to the bedroom.” His eyes snapped up at you. “You better be naked in bed when I get there.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

If you didn’t know Taehyung as well as you did, perhaps that command would’ve taken the worries off your shoulders. However, the thing was: when your husband was in that headspace, you could never really predict what would come from it. Just because he had sent you to the bedroom, it didn’t mean that he would suddenly become pliant and adamant to fulfill your every need — if anything, it meant that he had enough energy and discipline to spare. If he wanted to fuck you straight away (like you had begged him to), he would’ve just taken you on the couch, like he had done countless times before. No, the fact that he was sending you — alone — to the bedroom was probably not such a good sign.

When you entered the suite, you started removing your bra, then your panties and, finally, the thigh high socks. You felt yourself become more and more uneasy as you laid down bare on the bed, feeling as small shock waves of anticipation ran through your body. Every time you heard a noise coming from somewhere else in the apartment, your heart missed a beat.

Taehyung liked to make those moments as dragged-out as possible. He got some sick kick out of it, you guessed, probably made him feel like a predator stalking its prey, playing with its food. He liked to leave you wondering what he would do to you, and you couldn’t say you were bothered by it either.

At last, when you thought that your heart was about to jump out of your chest, he walked into the bedroom, his slender fingers loosening his silk tie. It was a stark contrast how dressed Taehyung still was — everything still in place, with only the zipper of his pants still opened. He looked absolutely composed, his dark eyes following the curves of your body as he gradually approached you.

“Beautiful,” he complimented, sitting down next to you. The bed dipped under his weight, making your breasts bounce slightly. His gaze fell over them and he hummed, one hand tenderly squeezing the flesh. You gasped at the sensation, which ripped a small chuckle out of him. “And so sensitive.”

You didn’t know if it was the best moment to speak up, so you didn’t. Instead, you waited as Taehyung’s hand gradually made its way up your chest, towards your neck and, finally, to your cheek. There, it stayed for a moment, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. He really enjoyed doing that, it seemed. “Open up for me,” he requested. And so you did, lips parting so two of his fingers could enter your mouth. Taehyung pressed down on your tongue, making you release a small whimper, before allowing you to suck on his fingers. “That’s it. What do we say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you struggled to speak against his fingers.

“That’s right.” Taehyung removed his digits from your mouth, lowering them until they were pressed against your clit. You moaned and raised your hips under the random surge of pleasure, but his other hand soon met the skin of your inner thigh, making you stand still. “Shhh, shhh,” he shushed you, “don’t move now.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly slid between your folds. The pressure was light, barely teasing your sensitive entrance before going back up to play with your clit.

“So fucking soaked for me, doll,” Taehyung groaned, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth opened a little, allowing a small sob to fall from it. “Such an eager little pussy.”

“S-Sir,” you gasped, fingers digging to the pristine white sheets of your bed. You had just changed them, and now they were bearing witness to your sinful acts. “I want you.”

Taehyung hummed, apparently distracted with the sensation of your slickness covering him. “You have me, darling.”

“N-Not your fingers,” you said. “Want your cock, please.”

The moment he stopped his movements, you realized you had fucked up. Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue that shot straight through your chest, quickening your heartbeat. “You’re so spoiled.” He removed his hand from your heat and you didn’t even find the force within you to complain about it. Not when he was looking at you with such a mixture of disappointment and frustration. “You tell me you want to cum, and then that my fingers aren’t good enough for you?”

“Sorry, sir,” you rushed to say, a frail veil of tears shimmering in your eyes. You felt like you had been edged for hours, even if that wasn’t the case. The sexual tension was just too high, leaving you so worked up that it hurt. And there was also an extra level of desperation knowing that your release wasn't exactly your decision at that moment. “Please, I need it so bad.”

Taehyung scrutinized your face for a moment, watching the quick beating of your eyelashes and the thin layer of sweat that covered your skin. He felt a familiar sense of power washing over him, watching intently for every sign of pleading eagerness that covered your features. You looked so beautiful, he thought, so meek and polite under him. You had been so good, after all, there was no need to postpone your pain any further.

But he would. For just a tiny bit longer.

Taehyung breathed out. “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice. Turn around.” He slapped the inside of your thigh, a smirk blossoming at the corners of his pink lips as he watched you yelp in surprise. Still, you obeyed him once again, turning until you were on your stomach. “Hands and knees. Ass up. And don’t look behind you.”

After you had positioned yourself, Taehyung started undressing. You could only hear the shuffling of his clothes as he gradually removed them — taking his sweet time as his eyes lingered on your form. He could see that you were still so absolutely soaked for him, the glistening of your pussy making his cock throb inside his underwear. He would tease you a bit further if he, himself, had it in him to wait a bit longer. However, at that moment, there was nothing that Taehyung wanted more than to be buried deep inside your cunt.

You bounced up and down on the bed as he kneeled on it, hands on your hips tugging you towards him. You whined when you felt the pressure of his hard cock between your ass cheeks, your pussy clenching around nothing. Still, you waited for him to make the first move, since your latest attempt at asking for more had earned you a scolding from his part.

And, apparently, not only that. All air ran out of your lungs when you felt Taehyung’s hand collapsing against the skin of your ass once, twice, until you were crying out. “Sir, wait—“

“Quiet,” he reprimanded. “You’re always misbehaving. Can you take your punishment now? Or are you going to keep complaining?”

That was his way of asking for your consent to keep going, you realized, and you promptly gave it to him. “Y-Yes, sir.”

Another slap against your ass was what you recieved, this time on the other side. Taehyung’s palm was heavy on your skin, and you relished in the pain it left behind; your hands holding onto the pillows for any sort of grounding. “Good. Maybe this will teach you not to be so fucking spoiled,” he growled, hitting you once more. Your body jumped forwards a bit, legs weak beneath you. “Stand still.”

You tried your best to do so, enduring a few more spanks until Taehyung had deemed it sufficient. If you had been wet before, now you were completely drenched, every nerve on your body standing alert to the smallest of touches. So much in fact that, when he leaned in to place a kiss against your shoulder, you cried out at the feeling of his cock moving between your ass cheeks.

“Pretty.” His hand caressed the sensitive skin where he had hit you before. You flinched under his touch, but liked the stinging pain that came along with it. “Gonna fuck you now, love.”

You could’ve sobbed in relief. “Yes, yes, please, sir.”

Taehyung leaned back slowly, one hand curling around the base of his cock so he could guide himself inside you. His crown slid between your folds once, twice, making you whimper as it accidentally hit your clit. The sounds of your wetness were shameful, filling the room as he pressed himself against your opening. You sighed and whimpered at the feeling, for a moment thinking that your thighs would give out beneath you. Instead, Taehyung held you up as his cock gradually plunged inside you, stretching you wide.

There hadn’t been as much preparation as you’d like, but the small rush of pain was a welcomed one. You moaned out his name as his big cock continued to sink inside you, feeling every inch of it as it filled you up. Taehyung was fucking huge and, even after so long by his side, you had never truly grown used to it.

You gasped when he entered you completely, his hands giving a last pull on your hips to make sure that he couldn’t go any deeper. “S-So much,” you stuttered.

He scoffed. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Now fucking take it.” Taehyung angled his hips back, sliding his cock out of your heat until only his tip was inside. He came slamming back in, sinking into your velvety walls like they were made for him to fuck. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, it’s just pulling me in. Dripping down my cock, fuck.”

And you could only moan out at his filthy words, brain turning into a chaotic mess as he started drilling in and out of you. At that point, you had been so worked up that you could only focus on the amazing sensation of his cock fucking you open, so big and heavy inside you.

From what you could hear, Taehyung wasn’t much different. His controlling attitude had started to wash away as his high started to approach; the room filled with the low grunts and moans that came from his throat. He was holding onto you so tightly that you thought he was going to break you in half, his thrusts deep, fast and precise. Really, it was shameful how close you already were, walls tightening around his length as your legs started to shake.

“S-So good, sir, your cock feels so good,” you moaned out, lost in bliss. “I’m c-close.”

“Cum all over my cock, baby,” Taehyung grunted. “Come on, be good for me.”

You nodded, clenching your jaw as you felt your pleasure rising at a thundering speed. Taehyung wasn’t planning on slowing down either, his cock hitting deep inside your pussy and making your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, oh my—“ you cursed out, but could not finish your sentence. Your orgasm washed over you like an avalanche, whitening out your thoughts as your walls clenched around him; loud moans and whimpers of his name falling in a jumbled mess between your lips. “T-Tae…”

The lack of his preferred title seemed to be lost on him, since Taehyung was also approaching his own climax. “So fucking wet. So tight and warm for me. Perfect little cunt,” he was talking to himself at this point, letting his thoughts flow out of his mouth with no apparent direction. “Wanna cum inside your pussy, doll. Fill you up so good.”

You whined out at his words. You were still holding onto the pillows, trying to find any sort of foundation to fight against the sensitivity that was growing inside you. “P-Please, yes.”

Taehyung growled at your words, pushing his body forward until he was squeezing you against the bed. The new angle made his cock hit different spots inside your cunt, a newfound wave of euphoria starting to buzz inside you. “Want that?” His voice was a rough moan against your ear, his breath kissing your skin in dense, hot clouds. “Gonna take my cum like a good slut?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, “I want it so bad.”

“Yeah? Wanna give you a baby, gonna look so fucking pretty for me.” Taehyung’s words hit you like a ton of bricks, making you clench around his cock. You had never realized that you wanted him to say that, especially in a context like that, but it made you melt instantly. And because he knew you so well, he rapidly noticed the way your body responded to it. “You like that?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes.”

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he moaned, placing a sloppy kiss against your neck. You could feel Taehyung throbbing inside you, signaling that he was close. “So fucking perfect. I love you so much.”

“L-Love you too,” you said back.

Taehyung sighed at your words, a last moan reverberating in his chest before he was spilling himself inside of you. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned at the feeling, getting utterly lost in the way that your walls milked his cock clean, taking everything that he gave you. “Fuck, that’s it.”

With a final, shuddering breath, Taehyung collapsed against you, placing a bunch of kisses on your shoulders. You giggled at the random softness of his actions, feeling as his cock slipped out of you. He rolled around until he was falling backwards on the bed, a final puff of air exploding upon his lips.

“Well, damn.” Taehyung laughed. You could only do the same, pushing your body closer to his. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

You rested your head on his chest. “Because adult life fucking sucks, that’s why.”

“Fair enough.” He sighed. One of his arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you close, kissing the top of your head. A fond smile curled up on your lips. “Was I too rough?”

“Just a bit, but I liked it.” You angled your head up to look at him. Taehyung took his cue to kiss your lips instead. “Can you get something to clean me up?”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m feeling pretty lazy right now. Besides…” he trailed off, “Kinda like you like this.”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing nature of your tone gave your faux-annoyance away. “I figured,” you said. “Wanna talk about the baby situation?”

Taehyung’s face swiftly grew serious. He apparently discovered a new source of energy, because, within a second, he was pushing you off and bolting out of bed. “Suddenly I need to find a towel.”

And you could only laugh because, as it has been proven, you were kind of a mastermind when it came to making evil plans. If Taehyung needed another one to get him talking, you wouldn’t mind elaborating it.

You wouldn’t mind at all.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts #kim taehyung #x you #x reader #reader insert #bts x you #bts x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #smut #pwp #marriage au

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ppersonna · 3 years

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out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults.

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow.

“What’s got you so perky this morning?”

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead.

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness.

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts.

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag.

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams.

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer.

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words.

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists.

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares.

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer.

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces.

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”.

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?”

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches.

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic.

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help.

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?”

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply.

“Yes, I would l-love that.”

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away.

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey!

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp.

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?”

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes.

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.”

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off.

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer

#kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon #bts smut #bts fics #namjoon smut #out of my league #knj #knj smut #rap monster smut #JOOOOOOOOOONie

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mostly-marvel-musings · 3 years

Text

DIY

A/N: This wasn’t planned. Or was it? @babyboibucky and @lil-stark Hope y’all like it!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: 18+, a little breast kink, soft pregnancy smut, tons of domestic fluff.

Word count: 1400

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist: @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @suchababie @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Taglists are open folks! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be tagged :))

Afternoon naps during the weekends had become a new favourite activity of yours. Waddling around the house with a heavily pregnant belly tired you out beyond belief, forcing you to take cat naps every chance you got. Bucky had developed a habit of joining you almost always because he never wished to miss a chance of holding you while you slept, also because he knew you were having trouble sleeping in the night.

There had been so many occasions when you would wake up only to find your husband gazing at your belly, hands lightly caressing while he whispered about anything and everything to the baby. The sight would fill your heart with love every single time, it had even brought you to tears the first time he did it.

However today, as sleep made it’s exit, you couldn’t find Bucky lying next to you where he usually was, instead there was some muffled cursing and muted thuds coming in from the nursery.

Pulling on Bucky’s old sweater, you padded towards the room to find him focused on his task at hand which was trying to read the instructions given on the manual of the crib you had purchased the day before.

He eyed the pieces of furniture he was supposed to put together warily before giving a confident nod to himself, as if mentally assuring himself that he could do it. And that was just too adorable to watch.

Leaning against the doorway, you stared at the love of your life for a while before announcing your arrival by clearing your throat.

“I thought we were going to do this together.”

Bucky glanced up in surprise before his face softened and he gave you a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck.

“I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

You shook your head and made your way towards him, stopping when your swollen belly met his flat one and giving him a small peck on the cheek.

“So, you figure this thing out?”

“I think so. You wanna help?” He asked softly,

hands automatically placing themselves on your bump. Bucky couldn’t help but get a little excited seeing his clothes on your pregnant body, even though you had been doing that for years. According to him, you’d never looked more radiant.

“Alright let’s build this crib.”

Fifteen minutes into it and you found yourself getting irritated and snippy because Bucky wasn’t following the directions you’d been giving him.

“Are you sure that’s the right way?”

“Yes doll, I’m sure.”

“Because that’s not what’s given here—”

“I know what I’m doing (Y/N)!”

He snapped, clenching his jaw as he stared at you as you held up the instructions manual for him to see.

“Fine. Seems like you don’t need my help after all! Have fun.”

You threw the piece of paper on the floor and stormed back to the bedroom, nostrils flared and fists balled up tight. It was probably an unnecessarily extreme reaction but you couldn’t help it, your hormones were on overdrive.

Pacing about the room, you took a few cleansing breaths, ready to apologise for your outburst when Bucky walked in silently.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you sweetheart.” He spoke first.

“I’m sorry too Buck, I just I don’t know why I get this hyper so easily, it’s my—”

“Pregnancy brain, I know.” He nodded, giving you a small smile, the kind that asked permission to call a truce and move past the whole thing.

“How is my little girl?”

“She’s sleeping. But Mommie’s wide awake…”

He chuckled and approached you once he saw you grinning wide, pulling you close to capture your lips in a soft kiss. He broke the kiss but you grabbed him by the back of the neck to resume, murmuring a ‘not done yet’ against his mouth.

Bucky grazed his hands along your bare legs upwards, taking his sweater with them, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Your tongues danced in harmony until you broke apart only to throw the piece of clothing out of the way.

He took his time to let his darkened eyes rake over your naked form, the kind of look that made your pussy quiver in anticipation. There were times when you’d get aware of the fact that your body looked awkward and bloated because that’s how it felt for months, but not to Bucky. He was mesmerised by the way your beautiful body adapted to this new phase, the way your body shape changed to accomodate a baby, his baby.

He loved how sensitive it had gotten over these last few months, the way your breasts had swelled up in size along with your belly.

“So beautiful…” he whispered before guiding you over to the bed, helping you to climb on top of him after he’d removed his own clothing.

You had been a little extra sensitive and uninhibited in all departments during pregnancy, including all those times wanting to ride Bucky hard at any chance you got. It was almost a second craving along with those weird food demands you were making, all of which was considered normal in the ten thousand books he had got for you to read.

You licked your lips at the sight of Bucky’s erection waiting so eagerly for your warm touch before wrapping a hand around the length, a few pumps and a flick of your thumb to collect the precum later, you maneuvered yourself so your entrance lined up. Pulling your damp panties aside, you sunk down on his cock slowly, eliciting a sinful groan from his mouth.

The feeling of being so stretched out made you throw your head back and sigh as you stayed in that position, giving yourself some time to adjust.

Your hips rolled against his own at a languid pace as you anchored your hands on his chest, your hair cascading around your face before Bucky gently pulled them aside to watch your face.

His pubic bone grazed against your clit with every move as you rode him, your shallow breaths and pants filling the room. Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his metal hand come up to fondle your breasts.

Sitting up as best as he could, he latched his mouth around your nipple and sucked, making you cry out loud while his hand attended to the other one with gentleness. They felt heavier in Bucky’s hand, full of milk meant to feed and nourish your child after she would arrive. They were for him now, today to caress, to love and cherish.

“I can feel you’re getting close, doll.” He breathed, laying back down and bringing his flesh hand over to your stimulated nub, rubbing it in tight circles.

“Fuck that’s it. Keep doing that.”

He obliged, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, you felt your insides tighten and walls flutter around his cock before you let go. A loud cry escaped your mouth as the coil in your belly snapped and you shuddered, the intensity of your orgasm triggered Bucky’s as he dug his fingers in your hips, grabbing them roughly.

A few sloppy thrusts into your quivering pussy was all it took for him to paint your walls with thick ropes of cum, his head thrown back and a look of bliss on his features.

He laid you down on your back carefully after pulling out, watching his cum dribble out onto your thighs before he cleaned you up with a washcloth and returned to bed.

Your skin was flushed and a lazy grin decorated your face as he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing feather light kisses there while running a hand all over your heated body.

He felt his little girl kick against his hand as he splayed it across your bump, making you look at each other and back down where she kept nudging, letting you know it was time to eat.

“Alright alright! I’m getting up. You want Daddy to make his delicious grilled cheese?”

Your eyes held a glint mischief as you looked at Bucky, giving him your best puppy dog look which you knew always worked.

“Come on Momma bear. I’ll make you all the grilled cheeses you want.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #dad bucky #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

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blueprint-han · 3 years

Text

soothing — lee felix.

pairing — felix x (gn) reader

genre — fluff.

word count — 1.9 K

warnings — the reader has hair long enough to braid, other than that,

note — husband felix brain go bzz bzz <3

“Whoa—” Felix immediately lifts his coffee cup into his hands when you plop down headfirst on the sofa right next to him, groaning in relief as the soft couch fabric surrounds and engulfs you. You throw your bag onto the floor, squirming your way out of your coat before doing the same with it. Felix giggles, the motions you’re adopting to try and not move from the couch but still get yourself a bit more free looking way too funny to the other person.

Your hair is out of it’s ponytail that Felix had surely seen you leave in, and completely disheveled, as though to prove how tired you truly are. Placing his coffee cup on the center table, he scoots closer to your sprawled out figure on the couch, biting his lip to hold back his laugh, but failing to do so.

“Hello to you too, welcome back!” He says all happy and smiley, which you can clearly hear in his tone. His voice instantly brings you some calm, and you sigh, pulling yourself out of your comfortable position to give Felix what seemed like the most adorable expression your husband had ever seen. Your shoulders are slouched yet they seem stiff, as though you’ve been housing tension in them all day. There’s a pout on your face, directed towards Felix for indirectly making fun of your actions, but he knows it’s not serious.

“Hey, I’ve had a terrible day today. Cut me some slack.”

“I can see that,” Felix points out, reaching out to push away the hair that falls over your face and restricts your eyesight. Your eyes immediately flutter shut, and you lean into his touch, almost landing headfirst in front of Felix’s lap if he hadn’t started giggling again in that awfully serotonin-inducing tone and propped his hand against your forehead.

“There, there. Why don’t you go to our room and sleep for a while, hm? We’ll order takeout today, if that makes you feel better.”

Mm, yes. Pizza. Comfort Food.

“That sounds good…” You smile dizzily, still resting the weight of your head against Felix’s hand. Then, you open your eyes, meeting his soft ones and let yourself admire the beauty of your husband for two seconds. He’s been growing his hair long nowadays, and that long hair is tied into a neat ponytail behind him. His smile is as bright as ever. It’s the kind of smile that makes you want to cry and tear up, but also makes your heart flutter whenever it’s directed at you, or literally anything.

His eyes twinkle when they meet yours, and you let your eyes trail over the freckles littering his skin and nose. He’d still be in his makeup most of the times when you’d get home, so this sight is definitely an invited one. You had to admit — to you, there was nothing more beautiful than Felix’s beauty without any makeup, or filter, or editing. He was best when he was himself, his smiley, cute, adorable self. The only one who could make you feel calm without even doing anything, the only person who could make everything seem better with just the smallest gesture.

The only person who made your heart flutter the way it did right now.

You breath in before leaning closer to him, giving him an expression he knew very well. Even after two years of marriage, he could still never not melt whenever you gave him puppy eyes, or whenever you tried to act cute for him to give you something.

“Okay, I know that look-” Felix shakes his head and laughs heartily, leaning toward you too and squishing your cheeks.

“Pleaseeeeee~” You drag, scrunching up your face in the way you knew your husband would give in to your advances. “I’m tired and plus you petting my hair whenever I fall asleep on your lap is very soothing.”

“Okay, but only on one condition — you go change and freshen up before that.” Felix points to your formal clothing, and you huff in disapproval. “Not going to lie, you smell- kinda.” He makes that cute scrunchy face that you can’t help but malfunction over, even though he’d just teased you.

“Alright, fine.” You roll your eyes playfully, getting off the couch and slouching your way to your shared room, letting yourself change and wash your face. It does make you feel a lot less tense and relieved, but all in all, more excited to fall asleep on your husband’s lap. His touch is always gentle, like a violin bow sliding off it’s strings to produce gentle, calming music.

When you come back, Felix has already cleaned up the couch, the blanket that was sprawled on it now neatly spread for you to tuck yourself into. Obviously, this wasn’t your first time falling asleep with Felix on the couch — it happened more often than one would think it would, to the point where Felix insisted there always be a pillow and a blanket on the couch. The pillow is placed against his lap, and he’s already finished his coffee up and scrolling through his phone.

When he feels your head softly land against his lap, he smiles to himself, placing his phone away and immediately tangling his fingers into your hair as you pull the blanket on top of you, tucking it under your chin and snuggling yourself all warm and cozy against him.

“There, doesn’t that feel a lot better than slithering around in your work clothes?” Felix asks, placing another hand on your thigh to rub small circles into it.

“Yeah, it really does.”

When Felix starts running his hands through your hair and drawing soothing patterns on it, your whole body immediately feels like it’s melting into the couch. The warmth from the blanket combined with the magic his hands possessed was enough to push you into a deep slumber, until a question pops up in your brain, and halts your train to slumberland.

“When was the last time you braided my hair?” you ask, any signs of your sleep vanished all of a sudden.

“Huh- that’s sudden.”

“Just something that I remembered.”

“Hmm, I guess it was in the early time of our marriage? I don’t remember doing your hair after that, to be honest.”

“Ooh!” You perk up, turning to meet Felix’s gaze. “Why don’t you do it now? I’ll get the comb! One second-”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Felix pushes you back onto his lap, smiling brightly at your eagerness. “What happened to hey I’ve had a terrible day and I'm tired?”

“Like I said, your hands in my hair is always soothing, plus, my hair's a mess and braiding it would be better.” You push his hand away, running over to your room to fetch the comb before scurrying back to him. You sit down at the couch in front of Felix, pushing the comb into his hand and facing forward.

Felix smiles fondly at you, his heart pounding at your excitement for something so small. He’s lucky to have such a wife, really. A person who knows him truly, a person who loves him for who he truly is on the inside, and a person who can always find happiness with him in the smallest things.

As for you? You’ve lucky to have such a husband. Such a bright, outgoing, empathetic person. You’ve been really blessed to have someone as pure hearted, kind and lovely as him. You’ve been blessed to be the woman he finds his happiness with.

“Okay…” He runs the comb through your hair, and owing to its effect, instantly, your eyes flutter close when he places his hand on top of your head. There was something so exquisite about his touch, it was so soothing. It was like a soft feather running against your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake but always led you to feel relaxed.

Once Felix has smoothed down your hair, he begins braiding it, and you're already half asleep at this point. It’s like a warm cocoon of love and pure adoration for each other is surrounding the both of you, lulling you into the blissful intimacy of just being with each other and sharing this comfortable silence.

You can hear Felix’s laugh and it pulls you out of your trance. You then realise that you’re almost close to falling asleep on Felix’s knee — clearly, you were still sleepy regardless of your excitement.

“Y/N, you’re leaning to the side.”

“Didn’t I say your hands were soothing?”

Felix blushes. He still can’t help but feel shy of your reaction to his touch even after so long, especially when you’re so direct and open about it. He ignores the heat rising up to his cheeks, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your hair and forehead before combing through it again and gathering your hair into a ponytail.

“Okay, just stay straight until the first two plaits, and then you can sleep.”

“Mmmm, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep myself up for so long though. This feels nice…”

“Y/N, come on!” Felix slaps your shoulder slightly, feeling himself blush even more. Of course, you can’t see him because you’re facing forward, but you can sense the overly chirpy, bright tone he’s speaking in. You’d be the first to know about your husband that he gets very shy when he’s praised for anything.

“Okay, okay fine. But do it quickly.”

Felix hums in reply before running his hands through your hair one more time, gently crossing the sections of hair over each other over and over again. The room is filled with a soft, quiet comfortable silence — one that Felix loves a lot. He wants nothing more than such soft and pretty moments, such lovin moments with his wife.

As he braids, your body leans more and more to his knee, and by the time he’s done, your cheek is pressed cutely against his thigh, your eyes closed shut in slumber. He quickly ties the end with a hair tie, and silently stares at your calm figure snoozing on his knee.

“So cute…” He thinks, not being able to hold back his smile as he lets himself admire your sleeping figure for a quick moment, before mischievously poking your cheek.

You whine at the intrusion, squirming around and you’re almost about to fall asleep again if it isn’t for your husband being a little shit, poking at your cheek again.

“What is it?” You whine louder this time.

“You’re gonna sprain your neck.” Felix says as a matter-of-fact.

“Ugh, okay fine… you’re gonna have to give me more of your ramen for disturbing me.” You pout, lifting yourself up before crawling into the blankets and lying down on Felix’s lap again.

“Hey! Who’s the one who ignored their sleep and got their poor husband to braid their hair?”

“You say that like you weren’t just blushing two minutes ago, sunshine.”

Felix has no words for that, and ends up stuttering. You giggle in victory, tucking yourself into the blanket once again before fluttering your eyes close. You bask in the calmness of the surroundings, letting yourself revel in the feeling of warmth that seeps through you.

Except, one thing’s missing.

“Hey!” You call, snapping your husband out of his admiring gaze. He doesn’t know when he got so engrossed into admiring your beauty, but nonetheless, he can’t stop himself from feeling warm internally when you pout once again.

“Your hands.” You rub your head against where it’s rested against his thigh, a frown on your face due to the lack of, to quote you, soothingness.

So cute, Felix thinks again in awe, tangling his fingers into your hair before finally, finally watching you drift off to sleep peacefully.

networks: @inkidz @kpopscape @kdiarynet @fluffyskzclub @destinyverse @skzwritersclub @kwritersworld @lovesick-net

taglist: @cafejjunie @sleepylixie @coco-riki @stayndays @yutassecretheaven @lost-midnight-flower @p2q3r4 @anskiie @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @cuddlychrisbang @orphic-chan

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britishboystm · 3 years

Text

Yoga Antics | Fred Weasley 18+

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut 18+ (minors dni!), unprotected vaginal penetration, male masturbation, kissing, swearing, fluff

WC: 2.9k

Summary: Y/N gets into yoga. Now Fred wants to get into Y/N...

A/N: A little something something while y’all wait for the next chapter of TDWM. Enjoy ya horny bastard!

•••

Stress management was something that you had grown to value a great deal in your free time. Even more so when you wound up marrying a Weasley twin.

It wasn’t that you didn’t absolutely adore your husband. You loved him with every fibre of your being. It was true however that sometimes you just needed a moment to yourself to unwind and recuperate, especially when living with such a hectic personality like Fred.

On the hunt for new tactics to tend to your mental health, you came across yoga, a muggle activity that Hermione had been raving about once her and Ron came back from her hometown during the Christmas break. She had said that her mom got her into it and how it made her stress levels drop drastically.

Admitly, you were skeptical at first. The idea of twisting and contorting your limbs to relax your racing mind seemed ridiculous. A simple spell should have been able to do the trick just fine, but alas one did not exist for such a thing, so you were left with not much to work with.

Hoping to persuade you, Hermione handed you a book from across the kitchen table while Ron and the twins laughed about some absolute nonsense in the living room of your home.

“Trust me Y/N. I’m usually a cynic myself about these things, but when I tell you yoga changed my life,”

She quickly glanced over at the boys to make sure their attention was averted elsewhere before leaning in so only you could hear.

“You would not believe the sex I’ve been having. Ever since I started doing yoga, I’ve been able to do things with my body that I could never imagine even in my wildest dreams.” Your eyes expanded instantly upon hearing her saucy confession. It was very unlike Hermione Granger to be so flippant about something as personal as what her and her husband did behind closed doors.

“Hermione!” You squeaked out as you shot your hands up to your flushed cheeks, embarrassed at the thought of your brother in law and best friend/sister in law in any kind of compromising situation. The image was now ingrained into your brain, an image you could easily do without no less.

Hermione lightly giggled but quickly covered it up with a cough when she noticed Ron and the twins look over at the two of you with interest.

“Everything alright ‘mione?” Ron asked, clearly oblivious to the raunchy conversation taking place between the whispering women.

“Nothing, go back to whatever you were doing.” She spoke, pursing her lips to hide a smirk. He gave her a look that read what are you up to over there? but quickly dropped it when he turned back around to continue the conversation he was having with his older brothers.

“I’m serious though, it has been an absolute godsend. I’m sure you and Fred can both get something out of it.” Your cheeks grew an even deeper red at the thought of what all of that might entail.

“Thank you for the advice Hermione. I’ll keep it in mind.” Maybe you would give the book a quick look through, if you were able to find any time during your insanely busy schedule.

“Love, time to head out?” Ron spoke as he stood up from the couch and brought over his finished cup of tea to the sink for washing later.

“Yes, we best be going. Remember what I said Y/N.” She nudged the book further towards you and got up to pull you in for a warm embrace.

“I’ll see you soon.” You spoke, giving her a warm friendly rub on the back before she went over to the door to get her ballet flats on.

“Y/N, always a pleasure.” Ron came over with a dopey smile, opening his arms to give you a big bear hug.

“Bye Ron.” He then headed over to Hermione, giving her his arm to hold on to as she struggled to get on one of her shoes.

“Only thing I’m good for, it seems.” Everyone laughed as Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked him the chest playfully.

“Oh shut it Ronald,” She jeers before opening the door.

“Bye!” The couple speak in unison as they head out the door, Fred closing it behind them.

“Well, I best be off too. I think I’ve left poor Angelina with the kids long enough.” George let out a sigh, bracing himself for what he knew he would be coming home to.

“Good luck with that mate.” Fred chuckles as he pats his brother on the shoulder.

“Bye love,” George speaks as he comes in for the usual kiss on each cheek with you.

“Bye George. Tell Angie we say hi.”

“Will do.” And then he makes his way out the door, Fred once again closing it behind him. He then turns around and looks down at you, a sly smirk dancing along his lips.

“Alone at last.” He groans before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Gah! You big idiot, if you drop me I swear to Godric!” You screech out. Fred let’s out a laugh before abruptly bending his knees, pretending to lose his grip on you. Your hand comes in contact with his back with a loud smack.

“I’m serious Fred, don’t do it!” He chuckles again before plopping you down on one of the couches in the living room. He shifts about so he was now straddling your waist. His hair, which he had been growing out, covered his face slightly. You brought your hand up to caress his light stubble ridden cheek.

He sighs out in contentment and flutters his eyes shut, leaning into your touch and kissing the knuckle of your thumb.

“Hi.” You say sweetly with bright sparkling eyes as you begin to twirl his fiery red locks between your delicate fingers.

“Hi.” His soft voice makes your stomach flutter. To this day you still experienced the same excitement you would get when you first started dating Fred back in school.

“Can we have sex?” He asks out of the blue.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his request. Ever since you tied the knot, the mystery and suspense your sex life once had began to simmer. Being upfront about both of your wants and needs became a part of the beauty of your marriage. No secrets were kept and no childish games were played. If one of you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.

“Only if you carry me, ‘m tired.” You spoke, going back to playing with his hair.

“Works for me.” His face lit up as he lifts you up off of the couch and carries you bridal style up to your shared bedroom.

You had to admit, Hermione was right.

The morning after that visit, you began to read tidbits of the book she gave you.

Not wanting to answer a billion questions, you kept the material out of your husband's sight. You knew he would become super curious and make you explain everything to him, and having just begun learning yourself, you decided it was best to keep it hidden away. Again, this concept was feorgein to the wizarding world so you couldn’t blame him.

It really did work out perfectly. Once you felt that you had gotten the hang of it, every morning after Fred left for the shop, you would set up in the living room and practice your yoga.

It honestly felt awful at first. Your body was so tight and tense that you had almost given up completely after your first time doing it.

But not wanting to throw in the towel so early, you kept it up until you began noticing a slight change in your body. Little things like being able to touch your toes or go into a deep lunge were gratifying and it almost became a bit of a drug to you. Not to mention it helped you sleep like a baby.

Fred was also starting to notice a difference. Knowing you were tight all over, sex usually consisted of fairly mild positions that didn’t put to much of a strain on your body. But that one random night in which you were suddenly able to bring your legs up to wrap around his neck as he pounded into you set off alarms in his head.

You had done something and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

That was a while ago.

Since then, you had fully converted to a life of zen, and yoga was your remedy to all of the worries that plagued your mind. Mornings were becoming easier and easier to face as Fred would shut the door behind him and you would pull out your yoga blocks and mat.

And this morning began like any other. The sun seeped through your white translucent curtains which made Fred groan in irritation. He hated getting up in the morning.

He turned over to face you and slowly opened his eyes, watching you shift about and slowly begin to wake up yourself.

“What time is it?” You spoke, nuzzling your face into his bare chest.

“7:15.” He was able to croak out in his scruffy morning voice.

“Off to work then?” You asked, finally looking up at him with this innocent and soft look that never failed to make him turn into a puddle of emotions.

“Off to work indeed.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, flopping on to his back to allow himself to wake up more.

“You're going to be late if you don’t get a move on.” He smiled at this before deciding to scoop you up into his arms so you were now laying on your stomach on top of him.

“George can manage for a bit can’t he?” He asked as he moved your crazy morning hair out of your eyes so he could get a better look at you. Your chin rested against his sternum as you rolled your eyes.

“Remember last time you tried to pull that stunt? He threatened to hex you.” Fred winced at the memory.

“Better not then huh?” He grimaces slightly, already knowing the answer to his question.

“Well unless you are willing to have your hair be green for the next year, then yeah I wouldn’t. Now stop stalling and get your arse up!” You say, pinching his hip which makes him arch up slightly underneath your touch.

“If you do that again I may never get out of bed.” His smirk would usually get to you but no one could ever get between you and your yoga sessions. Even Fred Gideon Weasley.

“Nice try Casanova, that isn’t going to work this time,” You lifted the sheets off of both of you and got out of bed to take a shower.

Later that morning, Fred ran over to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before grabbing a orange from the fruit bowl and rushing out the door for work.

You smiled knowingly, waiting for at least a minute before jumping up from your spot on the couch and ran back into your bedroom. Never in your life had you been so excited to wear spandex.

Once your setup was organized, you quickly got into child’s pose, hoping to give your begging joints and muscles a gentle wake up. It felt so good that the groan you emitted covered up the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Fred was back.

He had come from downstairs, having forgotten important paperwork he had to fill out for some possible investors. But the heavy package of documents seemed to have slipped his mind for a second time when he came across your arse stretched out in the bent over position.

His trousers tightened almost instantly and his finger had to come up and tug at his shirt collar that had suddenly become too tight.

Unaware of his presence, you continued your late morning with no care in the world. Feeling satisfied, your body moved up into a downward dog. Your lower legs and ankles gasped out in gratitude as you slowly leaned deeper and deeper into the upside pose.

That’s when you saw him.

Between your legs, you were able to notice a pair of brown dress shoes, one tapping away impatiently. Your eyes went wide and your throat let out a squeak, making you collapse to the floor and quickly turn to look up at your amused and very turned on husband.

“So this is what you’ve been doing when I’m away?” Your cheeks were all flushed, partly from the blood rushing to your face when you were upside down and partly due to Fred looming over you in a dominating stance.

“Fred I-.” You quickly tried to cover your tracks. Explain that it was a stupid thing Hermione told you about and that it didn’t matter.

“Hush love, I’m not mad.” He said through a relaxed chuckle.

“You’re not?”

“How could I? You are so fucking fit babes.” Your cheeks burned stronger and your eyes flitted down to the mat beneath you.

“Hey dove, no need to be shy. I liked what you were doing there. What was it anyway?” He was now crouched in front of you, lightly tracing his thumb against your cheek.

“Yoga, supposed to make you feel less stressed and more flexible.” You could see the gears turning in his head.

“Oh so I have yoga to thank for the amazing shagging we have been having recently then?” His comment made you giggle, making him swoon in return.

“Show me more. I want to watch.” God he knew how to make your stomach twirl. His face was no longer soft, but rather dark and naughty. The lust that was connecting the two of you caused your leggings to dampen. You shifted, now feeling slightly uncomfortable with sitting in your own wetness.

“What, you feeling uncomfy? Here I’ll help.” Before you could respond, he laid you on your back and dragged you towards him along the mat, his hands gripping the back of your thighs.

“Shall I take these off then?” He asked, an eyebrow raised in question. He was playing a game and he knew he had already won.

“Yes please.” Your voice was breathy and soft. He aggressively grabbed the waistband of your legging and tugged them down your legs.

Once they were in a wet mess somewhere in a corner of the living room, he bent down between your legs to pull you in for a kiss. Your hands went up to his hair and your legs wrapped around his torso, slightly grinding up into him.

His lips detached from yours and he looked down to notice your desperate actions.

“Awe love, you all worked up now?” He was obviously teasing you. Hell if anything, he was more bothered then you were, but he was always better at keeping his emotions below the surface.

“Want you to show me what you were doing again. This time in your undies babes.” You nodded urgently and turned yourself around, going into a cow position.

His heavy breathing and warm palms on your arse cheeks made his presence very much known.

You pushed back slightly, hoping he would get the hint.

“Patient, I’ll deal with you in a minute. Want to see more first.” Gaining some power, you got up and pushed him back, indicating for him to move onto the couch, giving him a front row seat to what would become his favourite show.

You pulled out every suggestive pose in the book. At one point, when you were able to look over at his reaction, his tie had come undone along with some buttons and his hand was fisted around his cock.

He looked heavenly sitting there, one arm draped along the top of the couch and his head thrown back in pure pleasure. He should have been back to work by now but neither one of you cared.

“Fuck, keep it up love.” You wanted his finish, not his hand so you stopped your performance and crawled over to him, kneeling between his spread open legs.

Without speaking a single word, your mouth opened wide, your tounge stretched out in a plea for his cum.

“You want me down your throat darling?” You nodded, eyes shut in patience. His groans increased and your palms began to sweat as anticipation grew all through your body.

But nothing came.

One of your eyes opened in confusion only for you to be met with him coming off of the couch and pushing you back into the mat once more. He stretched your legs open wide and moved your thong to the side. There was no time to adjust as his length rammed into you. Instantly gripping his biceps you let out a cry of submission and pleasure.

“Feel so nice and warm. Want you nice and wide for me when I finish yeah? Are you going to finish with me little dove?” You could only let out a wail of acceptance as you sobbed.

His drilling quickened and quickened until you both finally were able to come as one, something you had yet to achieve in your relationship. He let out a surprised laugh at the accomplishment before collapsing on top of you in exhaustion.

“Thank Merlin for yoga.” He spoke through heavy breaths.

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