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#It's very much giving: your love is lingering in the store and they already found what they need
saltpepperbeard · 10 months
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stepping through scenes™ as i do and
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...there was another shoulder touch?
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THERE HAD BEEN ANOTHER SHOULDER TOUCH?????
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harvest-selfshipping · 5 months
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love languages!
your f/o’s take your love languages into account my source is that they came to me in a dream!!
for example, if your love language is physical touch, they will be so affectionate with you!! (even if they’re reserved/not very touchy) they’ll give you hugs from behind, have their hand on your thigh when you sit, and kiss you in public so that everyone knows you are theirs!! going to sleep always ends up with snuggles <3
quality time likers— your f/o has got you covered!! they are already planning fun places for you guys to go and things for you to see. they’ll always make sure that they set aside time for you, and would never cancel any plans. sometimes you guys will go to the most fun amusement park ever and sometimes you’ll spend a cozy night together watching movies. they adore it either way <3
if you need words of affirmation, your f/o knows just how to show you love! they’ll write you love letters, their handwriting so utterly them while they confess their love for you. don’t be afraid to ask for reassurance, either! they will wash away any bit of worry you have. also, expect compliments— whether that be in person, a message, or written onto a sticky note, taped onto the bathroom mirror <3
acts of service is absolutely something your f/o will do for you. they understand that some days, it’s nice to come home to the dishes washed, and the floor sweeped. if you need help with any of your chores, they’ll be more than happy to lighten your load! it can be endearing to make inside jokes while you two fold the laundry, or reminisce about a sweet memory while they cook dinner. they never want you to feel bad when they help you, because you help them just as much <3
if your love language is giving gifts, your f/o definitely will take note of it! (they spoil you, shhh). they notice the item you lingered on just a bit too long in the store. they spend time picking out a gift that feels just right for you. and expect to come home to little trinkets they found/flowers they picked outside, because— “it reminded me of you!” <3
-Mod Autumn 🍂
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emeritusemeritus · 2 months
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HIII im so happy your requests are open you’re one of my favorite writers on here!!! i’ve been craving more twins x reader content and i’ve always wanted to see them pining after an oblivious customer at the shop like literally spelling it out for her and just her being a bit dense thinking that she’s just a valued customer 😀 love your work and hope you have a great week!!
Thank you so much!! This was an absolute pleasure to write, I really hope it’s okay for you! 🖤
Warnings: None? Mentions of implied kissing, reader is completely oblivious. Fred is as charming as ever and George is a sweetheart.
Word count: 1.8k
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Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had quickly become your favourite spot in all of Diagon Alley. It was vibrant and exciting, a draw for many witches and wizards without any hint of discrimination and it didn't hurt that the two owners were two of the most handsome men you'd ever seen, not that you'd dream of telling them that.
Your first visit to the shop has been an accident really, hunting down a perfect gift for your nephew who was just about to start his first year at Hogwarts. One of the owners, who you found out to be Fred had helped you find the most perfect gift that had been an overwhelming success with your nephew. The second time, he was slightly different than you remembered and you'd convinced yourself that you had just remembered him differently until the very man you'd been secretly thinking about since your first time at the shop walked out and greeted you with a big smile. That was the first time you met George, and unceremoniously found out that they were identical twins.
Since then you'd been back numerous times, sometimes for gifts, sometimes for more personal reasons and has even started dropping in on your lunch break just to chat to the twins as your friendship grew. They were abundantly friendly and chatty, so naturally funny and charming that it was easy to talk with them and they always made you feel incredibly welcome. Fred had invited you to the shop to share your lunch break together multiple times and you'd even found yourself hanging around as the store closed around you because George wanted company.
"I'm so excited!" Valerie, one of your best friends says enthusiastically as you step into Diagon Alley. She was from France and was educated at Beauxbatons, missing the cut off for the Triwizard Tournament by one year, something she was still peeved about. She was visiting you in London and she'd made you promise to take her to the place you kept mentioning in your letters.
You laugh along, seeing her excited face as you round the corner, walking past Ollivanders until the figurehead of the twins appeared up ahead, the brilliantly vibrant orange building standing out against the muted palettes of the other shops.
"Afternoon ladies," you hear from beside you, waking a grin spread across your face. Fred.
"Hi Freddie," you smile up at him, seeing his broad grin already stretched out across his face. His gaze flashes to Val and you briefly introduce them until your attention is pulled away by George who appears on your other side, already eagerly talking to you about the new product he'd been working on, the same one you'd offered to help with only the other night, pausing briefly to introduce himself to Val.
"Right Georgie, reckon we best get back to the paying customers," Fred says with a wink in your direction, pulling his brother away as they go back to assisting the other customers in the shop. George touches your shoulder gently as he squeezes past and gives you a sweet smile before heading off, immediately going over to a little boy and his mum who are looking at the Pygmy puffs. Your eyes trail towards Fred who's lingering around the love potion stand, trying to flog them to a group of witches who look to be around their third year. When he spots you looking, he gives you a little smirk and another wink, gesturing towards the love potions with a wiggle of his eyebrows. You can't help but smile, giggling a little before you look away, turning back to Val.
Her eyebrow is raised at you and her face holds a knowing smirk, already implying something.
"So what did they mean 'paying customers', are you not one?"
You give a little shrug, "they give me a discount, sometimes they let me test things, it's nothing really."
Her face says everything she isn't saying, she's delighted but judgy, as if she doesn't believe a single thing you were saying. You laugh and nudge her gently, "really, we're friends."
"Very friendly friends?" She teases with a wiggle of her eyebrows but you nudge her again and tell her to behave, not wanting to get into it, especially in a place that created and sold extendable ears, nothing was safe from the Weasley Twins.
She walks over to the Peruvian instant darkness powder, picking up a crystal and examining it in her hands with a smile on her face.
"So how can you tell them apart? You knew straight away," she says, casting her gaze over to you as she puts down the crystal and moves across to the next shelf, the display of wonderwitch products; carefully avoiding the puking pastilles on the way.
"Oh I don't know, they don't look that similar to me anymore. I suppose it's mannerisms mainly, Fred usually talks first and George is better at explaining things," you explain, stopping your eyes from wandering back to the owners.
"Hmm," she says with a smirk, still holding back what she was going to say.
Suddenly, the rolling ladder appears from the side with George clutching on to the steps, his smile splayed across his face as he appears.
"Pimple vanisher, yeah it really works," George says nodding his head, "tried it myself, well on Ron anyway. Ten seconds and your spots are gone."
"But how?" Val says, beguiled by the magic behind it. You stand back and watch, enjoying seeing George so effortlessly charming, showing what he'd created.
"Course, some of us don't need it do we y/n?" He says, looking up to you with a sweet smile, "must be good genetics."
"Or maybe I'm an avid Wheezes tester with a very rigid skincare routine," you play along, holding up the little pot of vanisher.
"That's a good sale!" He says with excitement, "want a job? Could do with prettying up the employees."
"Pretty sure you and Fred were trying to work out who was more handsome last night, I think you know you're pretty enough," you smirk, earning a chuckle from George.
"Clearly I won," he adds, flashing a grin at Val.
"What are everlasting eyelashes?" She says, picking at the pink and black box.
"Exactly what they say on the box," George flashes her a teasing smirk before pulling you closer to him by the hand, displaying you. "Want lashes like these? Make the boys really notice your beautiful eyes? Just need this box and your dreams will come true."
"You think she has beautiful eyes?" Val teases, goading George but it doesn't work, he bites back almost instantly, nodding enthusiastically.
"Wanted to put her photo on the box but she wouldn't let me," he chuckles with a little shrug before pausing for a moment and reaching up high for the little package of flirting fancies.
"Make any man fall at your feet with these, just one bite and they'll be smitten," he says, handing the neatly wrapped box to Val.
"Think you might have accidentally ingested one," she mutters, just quiet enough for only you to hear and covering it with a smile as she looks over the box. You subtly nudge her and she relents, but not before shooting you a wicked look.
"Anything you want, on the house," George smiles, flashing you one last look before rolling away and starting anew with his next customer.
"Right tell me honestly, how many of these have you given him?"
"Val! I told you we're friends," you say with a roll of your eyes.
"You might want to tell him that," she quips, nodding her head towards the space behind you. As soon as you turn, you're met with the rather solid chest of Fred Weasley.
"Ladies," he smirks with a dramatic bow of his head, his hand reaching up to touch your shoulder gently.
"You give all your customers this much attention?" Val asks with raised but playful brows, completely ignoring your glare.
"Only the prettiest ones," Fred replies, reaching out to grab the little pot beside the love potions. Val shoots you another knowing look with her eyes and you wordlessly tell her to shut up with your own, doubling down on the harsh glare.
"Kissing concoction," he says, holding up the little pot of almost clear liquid, "makes the drinker become longingly infatuated with the giver, just long enough to ensure only the best kisses will be shared. Made with real pearl dust as well."
"Maybe I could try it on you?" Val asks, suddenly getting flirty with Fred, "prove that it really works."
You don't miss the way his tongue slips out to meet his lips as he clears his throat, fidgeting somewhat uncomfortably.
"No can do I'm afraid, store policy," he smirks, recovering quickly with the banter.
"But if y/n asked?" Val says sweetly, smiling devilishly between the two of you, making you have to fight to stop your eyes rolling at her insinuation.
"Well she is a valued customer," he says with a pause, pretending to think, finger tapping on his chin, "but rules are rules and who am I to ever break them?"
You can't help but snort out a little laugh, knowing exactly how Fred Weasley felt about rules but you don't say anything, knowing it would only fuel the fire. He looks at you with a teasing smirk but you look away, feeling Val's gaze flicking between the both of you.
"You're so oblivious aren't you," she says whilst walking around the shop, keeping the Pygmy puff she’d painstakingly picked out tucked protectively under one arm.
“What do you mean?” You ask, frowning in her direction, pausing to grab a trick wand for your nephew from the basket near the till.
She shoots you a look, showing her disbelief, “let me think, they give you a discount, one of them has said in no complex way that you had beautiful eyes and perfect skin.”
“George was just,” you interrupt, only for her to look at you with a mild glare, not open to listening to your excuses.
“The other said he’d kiss you and that you were pretty, they clearly like you!”
“I just come in a lot, they’re good businessmen, you know flattery gets your everywhere right? You’re not gonna be rude to a valued customer,” you argue.
“You don’t have to be that friendly either,” she retorts with a sarcastic smile, checking out the pyro display in front of her, dropping the subject.
Your attention drifts away and you subtly turn to your left, feeling eyes upon you. There’s a brief moment where you realise that both Fred and George are watching you from the middle landing on the stairs, both leaning on the rail, before they notice that you’re watching them. As soon as you turn further, they instantly spring into action, pretending they weren’t watching you and spring into action helping the customers, almost comically so.
Your gaze shifts back to Val and you begin to wonder, could she be right?
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alohastyles-x · 2 years
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🌺“Hide! We’re not supposed to be here” with Natasha please 💓💓💓
🌺  Hibiscus
In the Dark  
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*let’s ignore that this gif doesn’t match the story- ya girl struggled finding one she liked best :( *
Prompt: “Hide! We’re not supposed to be here” 
Character: Natasha Romanoff x reader
Warnings: little tiny bit of angst, very very very light smut- like just mentions of kissing really
I hope you like this lovely! | Join me on my mini vacay!
When Nick Fury told you your next mission was with the Natasha Romanoff, you couldn’t help but be ecstatic. In any other scenario, you would have been fine to express your giddy feelings towards her, excited to be working with her. 
However this was a stealth mission. Generally speaking, you have to stay pretty silent to not get caught. 
You could already tell you were getting on Natasha’s nerves as she gave you sideways looks in the jet as you bounced in your seat next to her. Mumbling an apology, you directed your attention to your destination: Russia. You grimaced. The cold and you did not mix. You preferred to be somewhere warm, maybe in a beach lounging next to the grumpy red head who sat beside you. 
“Alright, we’re almost there.” 
Speaking of, Natasha’s stern voice filled the jet, pulling you from your day dreams of her in a bikini. You shook the thought away, and began preparing yourself for landing. 
Natasha skillfully landed the jet in a field, where you would then have to trek - silently- through the woods until you stumbled across the bunker the Russian soldiers used to store vital informtation. 
Usually you’d have the other avengers with you, but they were all busy on other missions Fury had assigned them too. This was supposed to be a small, easy mission that two people could accomplish. 
As the two of you unloaded yourselves out of the jet, you slipped, nearly falling out but Natasha’s hands found your waist steadying you.
“Thanks,” you muttered, your cheeks instantly turning a bright shade of red that you blamed on the cold. The feeling of her hands lingered on your was it as she helped you climb down the rest of the stairs. 
You began your silent hike into the dark woods. Fury had given the two of you boots that trekked silently over snow, you just had to be mindful of twigs. 
It wasn’t long before the silence became too much for you. You wanted so desperately just to talk to her, the woman who had encompassed your day dreams for months. You decided you were going to do just that… talk to her. 
“Psst!” You whisper-yelled, trying to get her attention. She was a good few feet in front of you. When she didn’t turn around you tried again. 
“Psst!” You whispered louder, cupping your hands around your mouth. 
“What?!” She whispered back, turning back to look at you. 
“So do you think the others are having this much fun?” You asked. 
“Just focus on finding the bunker,” she responded, rolling her eyes and turning back around. 
You glared at her. A mere twenty seconds passed before you had the urge to speak again.
“Hey Nat, do you want to grab some food after this? Maybe some milkshakes?” This time you didn’t whisper, causing her to stop abruptly and turn to face you, a bewildered look spread across her face. 
“What are you thinking! Shh!” 
You gave her an apologetic look, before focusing your gaze just past her. You pointed to a snow covered bunker sitting amongst the trees. When she turned to look, her eyes grew wide, and she turned back to smile at you. 
There were no guards posted out front, that much you knew from your research. The place was supposed to be abandoned, yet full of vital information. It was a shock when you found out they left the place completely abandoned. 
“There has to be some kind of booby trap,” Nat whispered as you made your way to the door of the bunker. 
“Heh, booby,” you whisper-laughed to yourself. Natasha heard, much to your demise, and turned to give you a look that read “seriously…”. You shrugged, not standing down from it being a funny word. 
“I dont see any wires, meaning there’s probably no electricity, so if it’s a booby trap then it’s a shit one,” you said, before reaching down to the door handle and yanking it open. Sure enough, a large cement block fell in front of you, spreading a cloud of dust into the air. 
“Told you.” You looked at her, smiling, before turning your flashlight on. You began looking around taking one half of the small bunker as Natasha took another.
There was a sudden noise that came from outside, loud enough to be heard inside. Natasha was quickly by your side, pulling you towards a dark corner. 
“Hide! We’re not supposed to be here” She whispered, pointing out the obvious as she shoved you into a small space between two objects. She pressed her front to you, squeezing into the small space as much as she could, and closed what sounded like a locker door. 
You were too distracted by the heat of her body pressing into you, making you ache in ways you didn’t know you could. Her sweet perfume filled the small space, sending you in a frenzy. 
Too distracted by her, you hadn’t realized how much time had passed until she finally spoke. 
“I think we’re in the clear,” she whispered, opening the door. She began to pull herself off of you, but your hands found her waist and pulled her back. 
Even in the dark you could tell she wore a confused expression, so you tried to cover your tracks. 
“You’re… warm,” you whispered, your hands still placed firmly on your waist. 
There was a slight pause before you felt her lips brush yours. It was quick and gentle, but enough to send you spiraling. You pulled her in by the back of her neck, deepening the kiss as your hands wandered her body. You could feel her red lipstick transferring to your lips, the smooth cream feeling warm and soft.
After a few moments she pulled away, breathless. 
“We need to get out of here so we can finish this later,” she whispered, pulling herself away from you, leaving you cold and breathless. 
You couldn’t help the smile that formed big on your face, hurrying after her to try to find the information you needed. 
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majestyeverlasting · 3 years
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You're Always What I Need
Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x Shorter!Reader
Word Count: ~1,770
Summary: There’s nothing quite like a new place to call home. After the kitchen is organized just the way you like it, you begin to notice small changes within the following days. And it just might be because a certain somebody happens to like when you ask him to get things that are out of your reach. But because he’s very sweet and very handsome, you let it slide.
A/N: This piece is based off two prompts requested by a lovely Anon. I really enjoyed writing it so I hope everyone finds it to be an enjoyable read. Feel free to let me know what you think!
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The white curtains danced in the breeze entering through the open windows. They were the first thing Bucky noticed as he padded into the living room. The hardwood was cool beneath his bare feet, and a yawn escaped him as he paused to stretch his arms above his head. You walked out of the pantry in time to see the hem of his shirt rise to expose a sliver of his stomach. Upon closing the door behind yourself, his gaze diverted to you. A smile grew on his face, small and easy as they often were.
Different baking ingredients were spread across the kitchen island countertop, and he eyed them as he made his way to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. It forced you to still with a new bag of flour in your grasp, but you welcomed the warmth of his body behind you. You always did. Outside, the sun was well into the sky and, like you, the neighborhood had been wide awake for some time. Parents had already bid their children goodbye as they climbed onto school buses, and people were out walking their dogs. Bucky, however, had slept in because he’d flown back from a ceremony in D.C. the previous night.
“Feeling better?” From the corner of your eye, you saw him give a small nod. “At least you have the next few weeks off. There’s gonna be plenty of time to relax and just take it easy.” He hummed and gave you a gentle squeeze.
“I was about to start making some muffins, but I can make you breakfast first, if you want,” you offered. “I wasn’t sure how much longer you were gonna sleep in so I held off on it.”
“It’s fine. I can whip up something for myself.” He kissed the crook of your neck. “Don’t wanna interrupt your flow.”
You turned to look at him as best you could. “Are you sure? I don’t mind. I’d be happy to, actually.” The kitchen had become one of your favorite rooms in the new house. It was spacious and all yours. No more small countertops and limited storage.
“Alright,” he finally said. “Thank you.”
Bucky made sure to thank you a hundred times more after he finished eating the meal you prepared. It hadn’t been anything extravagant, just the typical scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, but after going the previous week without a home-cooked meal from you, it was divine. He lingered by your side as you proceeded to place the wet and dry baking ingredients within their respective bowls. You had him do the mixing as you took out the muffin pans. And upon searching for the package of paper baking liners, you found that they were stored higher in the cabinet than you remembered. Standing on your toes did little to assist you in reaching them.
A sigh slipped past your lips. “Hey, Buck? Can you reach that for me?” You pointed a helpless finger. Even after asking, you attempted to reach it once more, groaning.
“Easy, doll. Let me help you.” He placed one hand on the small of your back as he reached over you with the other to retrieve the colorful liners. You almost melted.
“Thanks.”
“Any time, shortcake.”
The nickname made you roll your eyes, but getting to hear him chuckle was worth it.
When he’d finished stirring everything, you told him that you had the rest under control. So he went to stand at the sliding door to look out at the patio.
“I think I’m gonna go sit outside for a bit,” he said.
“‘Kay.”
After putting the muffins in the oven, you went to join him. From his spot on the wicker couch, he turned around upon hearing the door open, and his eyes followed you as you rounded to stand before him. The patio was made of smooth, gray stone and the furniture set was one you’d picked out together. Going from having a fifty-square-feet balcony to a backyard fit with plush grass was a dream.
“Is this seat taken?” You pointed to his lap. Rather than waiting for a response, you smiled at the light flush of his cheeks, and took a careful seat onto his right thigh, letting your legs fall between his.
Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your chin. “Guess it is now.”
A silence settled between the two of you, and the sounds of rustling trees and sparrow melodies prevailed. The woods began where your backyard ended, filled with tall and slender trees. It wasn’t uncommon to see wildlife, whether it be squirrels scampering about during the day or even deer early in the morning when the sky still bore shades of pink and lilac.
A huff of laughter left Bucky’s nose.
It made your lips curl upwards. “What?”
“Just thought about something from when I was a kid.”
It didn’t look like he planned on continuing so you ran a hand through his long hair. “Well, you have to share now. Can’t just leave me hanging.”
He smiled, and bounced his leg just to make you squeak. “My dad used to sit outside and drink coffee in the mornings sometimes. And the first time Becca and I joined him, he insisted that we stayed quiet for five minutes straight to just listen to the world. But we were young so we thought it was the most boring thing ever.” He paused for a few beats. “But I get it now. It’s nice.”
So that’s what the two of you did, listen to the world. You ended up getting off his lap to sit beside him, letting your head fall to rest on his shoulder. It felt good to have him by your side in that way. You wished the moment would never end.
That evening, the water of the sink ran softly as he washed the dishes. The sight of him standing there, slightly hunched, brought a pleasant warmth to your chest. Under his breath, he was singing a song. You weren’t able to decipher the lyrics until you got closer. As you passed behind him to stand in front of the other section of the sink, you delivered a gentle smack to his backside. He nudged your arm as a halfhearted retaliation. For the next few minutes, he cleaned and you dried. Afterwards, both of you began putting everything back in its place.
The ringtone of your phone eventually pierced the air, and you stepped out of the room to answer the call. The young woman on the other end of the line was one of your neighbors calling to confirm that the two of you were set for a café date the following morning. When you made it back to the kitchen, Bucky’s broad back was facing you as he placed a bowl you primarily used on the incorrect shelf because he knew it’d be just out of your reach.
Instead of making your presence known, you retreated to your bedroom given the fact that he’d be able to handle the remainder of the chore. There would come a day when you’d enforce the way you’d organized the kitchen. But for the moment, you welcomed the sense of endearment that refused to go away.
“You.” You pointed a finger at him as he later entered the room. And went on to poke it into his chest when he curiously came to stand in front of you.
“Me.” Bucky took your hand and peppered kisses over your knuckles. “What about me?”
You almost wanted to tell him that he wasn’t slick. Almost.
It looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he only smiled as you continued to hold his gaze. Little stars might as well have been contained in his eyes with the way they sparkled. They flitted down to study your lips, and he was leaning in to kiss you a moment later. The entirety of your body came alive as he cupped your face in the most tender way. A gentle hum rose up his throat and, though it was impossible, you swore you felt it travel through you.
It wasn’t long before he sought to intensify the kiss. But even against your own desire, you continued to move your lips slowly, gently, against his—simply to see what he’d do. Like a mirror, he matched your pace again. You pulled away just enough to get a glimpse of his face. His eyes fluttered open and his lips remained parted as quiet breaths passed them.
“What?” He murmured, beginning to smile. “Why are you smiling?”
You shook your head. “You’re just something else.” You hadn’t forgotten what he’d done.
Your lips met his again, and that time you followed his lead as he began to kiss you with more passion. The two of you ended up on the bed, you on top of him as his hands gripped your waist. And soon, he gave your hips a gentle push as a signal for you to stop kissing him for a moment. You pulled away, but not before pressing stray kisses to the tip of his nose and the dimple of his chin.
His voice was low and curious when he spoke. “What do you mean I’m something else?”
You pecked his lips. “You just are,” you said. “But in the best way.”
Before he could say anything else, you ducked your head down and started placing soft little kisses to his neck.
“Shortcake...”
You sat back up and placed your palms on his firm chest. As you looked down at him, you saw him for who he was; undeniably sneaky when he wanted to be, but also warm, and kind, and every ounce of good capable of being sealed within one person. Your next words came easy.
“I’m lucky to have you in my life.”
Bucky realized your voice sounded sweeter and more sincere than before. Part of him was still dizzy from your affection but he managed to give you a look that conveyed the fact that he felt likewise about you. You memorized the light in his eyes and the small upturn of his lips in that moment. And you stored it in a place in your heart where it’d never fade away. Of all the whims and pursuits capable of arising in life, at the end of the day, it would always be him; he’d always be the one you sought and returned to time after time again. He’d always be exactly what you needed.
-
♡ Thank you so much for reading!
♡ More fluffy Bucky fics here
♡ To join my "taglist," turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting
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seijorhi · 3 years
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Choke.
another soulmate au nobody asked for :)
Akaashi Keiji x female reader x Bokuto Koutarou
TW dub-con, implied future non-con
It wasn’t a good day to begin with.
You’re late, rushing through the busy campus hallways to make it to an exam that quite frankly you’re at least 70% sure you’re going to fail, mostly because instead of cramming last night you’d been… otherwise occupied with your boyfriend.
And you really, really just want this whole thing to just be over with already.
With your nose stuck in your textbook, frantically pouring over your notes right up until the very last second, it’s hardly a surprise that you don’t see the two of them rushing down the hallway in the opposite direction until you’re quite literally colliding with the taller of the pair – the broad shouldered one.
Your notes go flying, the last of your coffee too and for one split second, you’re pretty positive that you’re gonna end up flat on your ass with a little more than some bruised pride. But just as you’re about to hit the ground, not one but two hands reach for you, catch you, and the very second they do, you feel it:
A flash of guilt and momentary alarm, embarrassment, you think, and chagrin, each emotion hitting you like a sledgehammer, overwhelming you, one after the other in a dizzying blur that’s distinctly other, and then–
Shock.
Dawning surprise. 
A rush of something warm, adoring, a happiness so bright and blinding that it makes you physically jerk backwards, almost slamming your head against the wall in the process. And two pairs of eyes – one a deep, luminous gold, the other a cool, gunmetal blue – stare at you in wide eyed wonder a split millisecond before you wrench yourself free, gasping. 
The moment their grip falters, the torrent stops. You can breathe.
Blessed silence, save for the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Everything fades out around you – the students and lecturers alike bustling through the busy hallway, the humming drone of chatter that’s nearly deafening. Nothing exists but the three of you; caught in your little bubble.
And it’s dread, you think, that seeps through your blood as you stare at them. 
They’re both handsome, albeit in their own ways. The taller of the two – the one who’d almost barrelled you over – looks like he could probably bench press you without breaking a sweat. His shirt isn’t exactly clinging to him, but you can see the hints of well defined muscles beneath, and the size of his biceps alone are enough to make your heart skip a beat and your mouth dry up a little. With rippling muscles, spiky black and silver hair, a strong jawline and those round, golden eyes, he looks like a modern day adonis. 
His friend might’ve been shorter, his build leaner, but with his softer features, pretty eyes and dark hair, you think he’s perhaps the prettiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. From the fineness of his nose to the gentle curve of his lips and his long, dark sweeping eyelashes, he reminds you of those white marble statues you’ve seen before in museums and art galleries– a beauty so divine, so perfect – so devastating – that it steals your breath a little.
And they’re both watching you, frozen entirely. Smiling in breathless delight, as if they can’t quite believe it either.
Soulmates. 
You’ve spent your whole life wondering what it would be like, experiencing somebody else’s emotions. Studies have been done and countless books and articles written about the bond between soulmates; the intimacy of sharing emotions through touch, but nobody really knows why or how it happens.  
And for some, it’s a subtle thing. A suggestion, a whisper against their own consciousness, easily brushed aside. Others feel it stronger. 
For you, it was like drowning. Choking under the sudden, intense barrage of feelings that weren’t yours. Maybe it’s because there’s two of them – and that much at least you’re sure of. You don’t have the words to explain it, but they’d felt separate somehow, distinctive from one another – kind of like fingerprints, you suppose.
There’s no denying the bond, no denying that they’re both your soulmates, and all you can think of is that you don’t want it. Not here, not now. Not them.
The dark haired one seems to realise quicker than his friend that you’re not reacting how you’re supposed to, you’re just standing there, rigid and tense, gaping at them. And the slight smile that graced his perfect lips starts to waver, his brows drawing together when finally his friend cottons on.
He reaches for you, the beginnings of a pout taking shape on his face, and you move without even thinking, jerking out of reach with a sharp breath. His hand hangs outstretched for a beat too long, a noise like a kicked puppy leaving his lips as he realises that you’re flinching away from him; away from your soulmate. He looks heartbroken, and he’s yet to utter a single word. 
You don’t give him a chance. You’re not some cold, unfeeling beast; there’s a twinge in your heart, a heaviness that’s far too close to guilt settling in your stomach, but you just can’t. And with shaking hands you bend over and hastily grab up your things, forcing yourself not to meet their confused, hurt stares when you right yourself. 
“I– I’m sorry,” you murmur, and before either one of them can try to stop you, you disappear into the crowd, racing for your exam. 
The lights are on when you make it back home, the familiar, comforting scent of home cooked food filling your apartment.
“Hey, babe,” your boyfriend calls out as you wearily drop your purse by the door and kick out of your shoes. His back’s to you, attention fixed on the simmering saucepan on the stovetop, but he glances over his shoulder as he continues, “How’d your exam go?”
And you can’t help it, you burst into tears.
Painful, heaving sobs that might’ve had you collapsing onto the floor if he hadn’t swept across the room to snatch you up into his arms. “That bad, huh?” Kuguri jokes, but the words sound hollow.
“I found them,” you mutter into his chest, and the way he stiffens, his grip tightening for just a moment has your heart breaking all over again. 
Kuguri doesn’t say much as he leads you to the couch, he just lets you talk. It’s almost worse, you think, the way he doesn’t react. 
Because you both knew this was coming at some point. For months you’ve tried to convince yourself that you could feel him when you were together.
You felt his love when he held you, right?
Happy when he was happy?
But you’d known, both of you, that as much as you wished it otherwise, he wasn’t your soulmate, and you weren’t his. And whether it was today or six months down the line, this was always going to happen.
“You don’t have to…” you trail off, searching his eyes desperately for anything other than the gentle resignation lingering there. “I love you.”
He smiles at that, cups your cheek in his hand and brushes away the stray tear that spills. “I know you do, but–” it’s not enough. “They’re your soulmates. Don’t you think they deserve a chance to make you happy?”
He’s gone when you wake the next morning.
In a university of thousands, a sprawling city campus, you honestly believe that in spite of everything, you probably won’t see them again. They don’t know your name, or what you study, you don’t live in the dorms like some of the other students; the chances of just randomly bumping into them again are slim, soulmates or no.
Of course, there are facebook groups and pages set up to reconnect lost soulmates, but you’d have to actually want to find them to try something like that.
(Part of you wonders whether they’ve tried)
The universe has a sense of humour, it seems, because when your paths cross next, it’s not at uni, it’s at the little corner store a few blocks down from your apartment. 
At 2am in the morning. 
And you’re staring intently at the freezer, mentally weighing up exactly what kind of ice cream you need to sate your craving when you hear the sharp intake of breath behind you.
“Holy crap, you’re here.”
It’s stupid, you think, the way your stomach flutters when you turn to find him staring in wide eyed wonder; the taller one, with the spiky hair and those impossibly wide, honey eyes.
He’s smiling, his entire face lit up like a christmas tree at the sight of you. As if you hadn’t run off without so much as an acknowledgement the last time you’d met. As if seeing you here, looking like shit – makeup free and dressed in your old favourite sweats – is the absolute best thing that could have happened.
And when your cheeks grow hot, you’re not entirely sure if it’s embarrassment over the way you look, the fact that he’s caught you buying ice cream that you fully intend to let melt just a little bit before polishing off at two in the morning, or if it’s shame over how badly you’d reacted the last time you’d seen him.
But if he notices your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it, grinning widely as he calls back over his shoulder, “Akaashi!”
You still haven’t uttered a peep, haven’t moved. Just like last time you’re caught feeling like a kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar as your other soulmate rounds the corner, his attention fixed on the ingredients list of the rice cracker snacks in his hands, a basket full of groceries tucked into the crook of his elbow.
“Bokuto, I was just around the corner, there’s no need to shout.”
Pretty steel blue eyes flicker up for a split second, then quickly do a double take as he realises that it’s you – his errant soulmate, standing struck dumb, here of all places. “Oh.”
Oh. 
Akaashi eyes you for a moment, and you watch as his throat bobs unsteadily, but just as with Bokuto, he can’t seem to help the smile that creeps across his face. It’s softer than his friend’s, not so blinding but warm nonetheless. Genuine. There’s no animosity there, and it should put you at ease – they don’t seem to blame you, at least. 
It should, but it doesn’t. 
Even now, there’s a little voice in your head urging you to forget your late night cravings, turn tail and run. Nevermind that they’d likely just follow you, much less that you’d look like an absolute fucking idiot, fleeing from your soulmates who so far have done nothing wrong.
It’s not supposed to be this awkward, right? It’s not supposed to be difficult, but even when they’re smiling at you, there’s a tension that digs its claws into you and refuses to relent. Your heart thumps unevenly, like a scared little bunny caught in a trap and the wolves are circling.
If it’s normal, then your parents and every other soulmated pair you’ve ever met certainly kept it to themselves. Maybe it’s the guilt, you think. Maybe you’re just being overdramatic. They’re your soulmates, right? They probably just want to talk, to get to know you, and right now you’re the one being standoffish and rude. 
It occurs to you then that you still haven’t spoken, and they’re both staring at you somewhat expectantly. You really are fucking this up, aren’t you?
“H-hi,” you manage to muster, forcing yourself to smile back. Tiny and timidly, perhaps, but it’s a smile. 
It seems to work, because Bokuto positively beams at you and Akaashi sets down his basket to slide in closer, a pleased little hum escaping his throat. 
Aside from the faint sound of the radio playing in the background and the cashier casually flicking through a magazine up at the register, the store is quiet. It’s just the three of you, except this time there really is no running off and disappearing into the crowd. Which is fine, you need to face them sooner or later, right?
Give them a chance?
Otherwise everything else, all that heartbreak and the lonely nights since will have been all for nothing. So you swallow tightly, take a soft, steadying breath, and press on.
“I, um… I’m sorry about last time. You know with… everything,” you finish lamely, mentally cringing at the sheer awkwardness of it. “I had an exam.”
But again, your soulmates don’t seem to take it personally, the darker haired one (Akaashi, your brain helpfully supplies) nodding slightly. 
“It’s okay. You’re here now.” He has a nice voice, calming and smooth, and though the words seem to carry a different weight you find yourself nodding along with him. You can do this, you can make an effort.
This is fine.
You swallow again, tongue darting out to wet your lips, “I’m Y/N,” you introduce, clutching just a little bit tighter at the handles of your own shopping basket.
You don’t extend a hand, nor try to go in for a hug, but standing there rigidly feels wrong too. They’re strangers, yes, but they’re also not, and you don’t quite know how to act around somebody like that, somebody you’re supposedly fated for but know nothing about. All you know is that the last time they touched you, it was too much. It hurt. And even as you catch sight of the slightly disheartened expression on Bokuto’s face, you’re hesitant to put yourself through it again.
“It’s pretty,” Akaashi compliments, and there’s a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks as he says it. “Suits you.”
Your own probably aren’t much better, with the blood that rushes to your face. You drop your gaze a little, nibbling on your bottom lip, “O-oh, uh… thank you.”
When you glance back up to Bokuto, you find him staring at you again, not with the same hurt expression as before, but something akin to wonder. He seems speechless, in awe of your flustered state, and you wonder how he can bounce that quickly from emotion to emotion without giving himself whiplash. But it seems like your attention is just the thing he needs to pull himself out of it, because he closes his gaping mouth and grins again.
“Y/N,” he repeats, like he’s testing it out, rolling your name over his tongue. “You probably heard, but I’m Bokuto– you can call me Koutarou, though.” 
There’s a beat of silence, and he’s quick to add, “And that’s Akaashi.”
“Keiji,” Akaashi corrects, shooting you another gentle smile. 
First names. It makes sense, you suppose, but the familiarity of it all still doesn’t sit quite right with you. But now that introductions are out of the way, you don't have a clue what you’re supposed to say now - ‘so, soulmates; crazy, huh?’ doesn’t exactly feel appropriate, given the circumstances.
You’re distinctly aware that it’s the middle of the night and you’re at a convenience store and while this might not be the worst time to run into your soulmates again, it’s not far off. 
Maybe that’s not a bad thing, though, because at least it kind of gives you an out. Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you clear your throat, “I hope you guys don’t think I’m being rude or anything, but it is kinda late…” you trail off, hoping they’ll pick up what you’re putting down.
And while Bokuto’s brow furrows, Akaashi at least has the decency to look a little abashed. “Yeah, no, of course. We’re just so… we’re glad we ran into you again.”
 Your cheeks heat again, and to save yourself from having to meet their gazes head on, you quickly spin around, open the freezer door and grab the first pint ice cream that you see. “I just came for this,” you laugh, fighting back a wince at how hollow and fake it all sounds. 
“Here,” Bokuto says, and before you can react he’s snatching it from your grip (thankfully keeping his hand from brushing against yours) and places it atop the basket in Akaashi’s arms. “Our treat.”
He beams at you, and you’re honestly too stunned to reply. You don’t really want him paying for it, but if it gets you out of this awkward encounter any quicker, you’ll swallow down your protests and let it go. 
And so you trail meekly after the two of them as they head to the cashier, and when Akaashi passes you the bag you’re so careful to avoid his touch, a fact he notes with the slightest of frowns, but he doesn’t comment on it. 
“It’s late,” he says instead as the three of you exit into the brisk night air. And then those gunmetal eyes are on you, studying you for a moment. You realise what he’s about to say the moment he opens his mouth again, “Can we walk you home? Or to the bus stop at least?”
Your stomach lurches at the thought of it, of two veritable strangers knowing where you live, but–
He’s not wrong, exactly. It is late, and in hindsight it was probably stupid for you to have come out at this time of the night alone in the first place, whether it was a safe neighbourhood or not. And they’re not strangers, they’re your soulmates.
You have to try. 
So you nod. ‘It’s just down the road,” you murmur, but as the two of them fall into step either side of you, sharing a distinctly satisfied look between themselves, you think that it wouldn’t have mattered how far it was. They would have walked with you anywhere.
Yet their expressions of mild surprise (disappointment, maybe?) when you stop them less than five minutes later in front of your apartment block almost makes you laugh. “This is me.”
Bokuto eyes the building for just a moment before his attention returns to you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
Lie, that little voice inside your head urges, but you force yourself to ignore it. You have to try. “Uh, not much, I guess…”
Even as you say the words, your hands tighten on your bag, twisting nervously – a sign they either don’t read or wilfully ignore as Bokuto brightens up once again.
“Awesome! Wanna swing by ours to chill for a little bit?”
Like a date, you think as your gaze flickers between the two. Yet Akaashi’s watching you just as intently, those dark eyes far more inscrutable than Bokuto’s, which doesn’t help ease the uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach. There’s really no reason for you to say no, no polite way for you to turn them down. They’re your soulmates, you’re supposed to want this. “Um…”
“Or we can come here, if you want? Or head into the city and do something there, maybe go see a movie or something? Whatever you’d prefer.”
“No!” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them, the idea of the two of them in your apartment, your home just feels like… too much. “No,” you repeat again, quieter, forcing your features to soften into a hesitant smile. “Your place is good.”
That way you can leave if it all gets to be too much. It’s just a casual hang out. It’ll be fine. 
Both of them seem to relax at your agreement, and you quickly take out your phone to grab Akaashi’s number – sending him a message so he has your number too.
“Perfect,” he says, his voice a purr that sends a ripple of something running down your spine. “I’ll text you the address in the morning.”
You smile at both of them, thanking them again for the ice cream and for walking back with you, even if it was only a few hundred metres. And you think you’re in the clear as you start walking up the steps, trying to balance your keys, your phone and your bags when the sound of your name being called makes you turn around.
Bokuto’s there, a step behind you, and before you can even so much as blink he’s grabbing at your hand, tugging you forward and kissing you.
Just like last time, it’s instantaneous and overwhelming. You feel it all – his giddy excitement, the stirrings of something deeper, less innocent as he cradles your body to his.
And the love. 
Oh god. It’s not mere affection, not some fleeting, superficial thing. It pours over you in unrelenting waves, crushing you under the force of it – you can’t even feel his tongue moving against yours, or the way he sucks on your bottom lip, groaning quietly.
You can’t breathe, can’t think. It’s too much, too much, too strong, too sudden, you can’t BREATHE.
Your trembling hands finds his shoulders, and as your head spins, nausea churning in your gut you don’t waste a second, shoving him away from you with enough force that he actually stumbles back a little.
Though you’ll admit it’s probably more from shock than any strength you actually possess. 
And you don’t dare look to Akaashi as tears fill your eyes, a heaving gasp leaving your lips. Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his mouth agape; he looks confused more than horrified as you stumble back, almost tripping over the last step.
“D-don’t touch me,” you gasp, “please.”
There’s pain in his eyes as your tears well up and spill over and you choke back another sob, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything else. Limbs trembling, you force yourself upright, clutching at the keys in your fist as you skitter towards the door.
You hear one of them, Akaashi you think, calling out your name, but you don’t pause, don’t look back – throwing open the lobby door and slamming it shut behind you. 
And your heart pounds as you climb the steps two at a time, and it’s only once you're in the safety of your own apartment, with the door shut and firmly locked that you allow yourself to breathe. You realise distantly that at some point – probably on the steps outside – you dropped the ice cream they’d bought for you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. The first time you realise was an accident, they had no way of knowing you were their soulmate, much less how you’d react when they’d touched you. But that–
That wasn’t right.
It wasn’t normal.
Those feelings, that love, you’ve never experienced anything like it, and yet it’s left you feeling filthy; tainted. Scared. It was too much; boundless and abundant, the kind of love that devours and chokes, selfishly strangling everything in its environment to thrive. Overpowering and solely directed at you. How was it supposed to do anything but terrify you. And how can he possibly believe that he loves you like that already?
Soulmates or not, you don’t know him!
This– this whole thing is wrong.
You can’t stop yourself from checking the locks on your apartment another three times before you slip under the covers of your bed, trying to will sleep to find you.
On the nightstand beside you, your phone vibrates, but you refuse to check it, knowing full well that it’s them.
It doesn’t stop.
And with every new notification your blood pressure climbs, and there’s a part of you that’s telling you you have no reason to be reacting like this – whatever happened on those steps, it’s not like they’re going to hurt you.
It was an accident, a misunderstanding.
But they’re still blowing your phone up with notifications and they know where you live and no matter what you tell yourself, you can’t seem to quell the disquiet that eats away at you.
And it’s a cruel thing to do, you know it is, but you don’t know what else to do as you finally give in, swiping your phone up and searching for his contact. The phone rings once, twice, three times and there’s a sinking feeling in your chest when you realise he’s not going to pick up–
“Hello?” Kuguri’s voice is groggy, heavy with sleep and you can almost picture him, sitting up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes, running a hand through his messy bed hair. “Fuck, do you know what time it is, Y/N? Why’re you calling me so late?”
There’s a pause, pregnant and heavy, and the only sound that leaves you is the soft hitch in your breath.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, quieter this time, an edge of worry in his tone.
You haven’t spoken to him in weeks, since he’d left without a word and broke your heart, but he’s the only one you want to talk to right now.  
“I-I’m sorry for calling,” you begin, sniffling back your tears. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
When you drag yourself out of bed only a few short hours later, your body’s still crying out for a little more sleep, but you can’t afford to indulge.
Like you’d planned, you send the message first thing, ignoring the flood of unread texts above – both from Akaashi and an unknown number you can only assume is Bokuto’s.
I’m sorry about last night, just need some space. 
You have nothing to be sorry for – even if it wasn’t for the frankly unsettling emotions you’d felt, Bokuto’d still kissed you without your permission. But Kuguri said it was better that way – they were less likely to freak out and panic or whatever. You hadn’t questioned it too much, it didn’t really matter what you said so long as they knew you didn’t want them anywhere near you… at least until you figured this whole thing out. And you trusted Kuguri on this.
God knows why he’d even answered your call in the first place, but you’re impossibly glad that he did. Gladder still that he hadn’t hung up on you the moment he’d realised why you were calling.
You scoff down a quick breakfast, before hopping into the shower. The scalding water’s a welcome relief, waking you up more than your coffee had and allowing you the space to think.
Kuguri’s got errands to run this morning, but he’d said you were welcome to stop by his place anytime. He’d insisted on it actually, telling you in no uncertain terms to pack an overnight bag.
‘Look, I’m probably being an overprotective asshole, alright, but I don’t want you there by yourself, so either you come here or I’m coming over there.’
And the thought that you’d need somebody there to protect you, that either one of your soulmates would do anything–
But it’s not so much about them, you think, but you. You’d been a mess when you’d called him, and despite how everything had gone down, Kuguri still cared about you – you can’t just turn those feelings off overnight – is it any wonder that you’d worried him?
Distantly, you register your phone going off a few more times as you busy yourself in washing your hair. You assume it’s Kuguri checking up on you, making sure that you’re alright – you pay it no mind, humming quietly as you reach for your conditioner.
And by the time you slip from your bathroom, wrapped in a big, fluffy towel it’s probably closer to mid-morning than you’d like. You don’t bother blow drying your hair or putting on makeup, instead heading to your room to get dressed and grab some clothes to take to Kuguri’s.
Except there’s a knocking at the door that stops you in your tracks.
You hadn’t heard the buzzer for the building’s main door go off, which meant that it was probably just your landlord stopping by, or one of your neighbours. You know the little girl who lives in the apartment next to yours likes to bake with her dad and sometimes drops off freshly made cookies and treats, so you hastily throw on enough clothes to pass as decent. 
“Coming,” you sing out, racing across the room to reach the door. 
Except when you throw it open, it’s not one of your neighbours standing out in your hallway, nor is it your elderly landlord. 
Akaashi and Bokuto crowd the empty space; Bokuto grinning widely, Akaashi’s dark eyes fixed on yours. 
“You weren’t answering your phone,” he murmurs, a faint frown tugging at his features as studies your face. “We were worried about you.”
And there’s so many things wrong with the fact that they’re here; least of all being how the hell they got into the building to begin with, but you can’t afford to think of any of that. You simply need to get them out of here without causing a fuss. Now.
They’re still your soulmates, you remind yourself as your heart rate picks up. They won’t do anything to hurt you. 
“I-I told you I needed space, please go,” you mutter, clutching so tightly at the edge of the door that your knuckles turn white. “Please,” you beg again when neither of them make a move to leave.
“I told you, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto says, his smile slipping in favour of a wounded pout, “She’s afraid of us. Her soulmates.”
And you don’t know what compels you to shake your head instead of just slamming the door in their faces, “N-no, I just–”
“She’s just skittish,” Akaashi interrupts, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Overwhelmed – this is all new to her. It’s okay, princess,” he says, addressing you this time with a teasing little smirk, “We’ll be gentle, okay? We’re going to take good care of you.”
It’s the final blow to your tentative politeness. As panic sinks its teeth into you, you skitter backwards, scrambling to shut the front door before they can get in–
Bokuto’s faster. They both are.
Stronger, too. 
1K notes · View notes
writerpeach · 3 years
Text
Lights & Cameras
Jeon Somi x Male Reader
5575 words
Categories: smut, daddy kink, rough sex, dirty talk
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Three hours. Endless outfit changes. Barely an hour for lunch.
Jeon Somi had done photo shoots before, both as part of a group and as a soloist, for commercials and for album covers, but she had never had the focus be on her just like this. Her beautiful face was going to be on the cover of a magazine for the very first time for the entire country to see.
It took countless people to make a magazine shoot run smoothly. Stylists, photographers, directors, makeup artists, interns, and a plethora of untold staff members whose titles were unbeknownst to you.
Somi’s first magazine shoot was exciting. If she was nervous, she hid it well, radiating confidence behind the camera as hundreds of flashes went off every second.
You had lost track of how many times you saw Somi disappearing from the set into her personal dressing room, reemerging in an outfit that either tantalized or confused you. Each ensemble brought out several emotions and at least one change that left you scratching your head.
Fashion never made sense.
There wasn’t a moment behind the cameras that Somi wasn’t swarmed by staff - fixing her hair, touching up makeup, and preparing her for the next set of blinding lights. Somi basked in it all, she loved the attention and loved every moment of being in the spotlight.
You weren’t hired by anyone, yet had one of the most important jobs in the building.
Your job was just to be there. You were a familiar face to the gorgeous young model, keeping the couch warm in the first-story studio where you could be seen at all times when Somi felt a pit in her stomach from being overwhelmed.
One look into your eyes across the distance brought a bright smile to Somi’s lipstick painted lips, one that melted you like a hot summer’s day.
Another outfit change. One more shade of lipstick applied to her lips, her cheeks now a shade of pink instead of red. The fumes of hairspray lingered in the air as her dark big brim hat was swapped out by a simple white ball cap and blue sunglasses.
Truth be told, Somi could make any outfit look good. Whether it be tall high heels that almost made her trip, short skirts that showed off her amazing legs, or puffy coats that she looked adorable in, anything and everything looked great on Somi. You’re pretty sure she could make an astronaut’s spacesuit look sexy.
Somi loved dressing up, wearing expensive clothes and outfits she only dreamed about, each time she was presented with something new feeling giddier than a kid in a candy store.
This outfit you particularly liked on Somi, a rather long green dress that almost touched the ground, perfect for summertime. At first glimpse it seemed to cover her up, the sacrifice worth it as it did a terrific job of hugging her body nicely, leaving her shoulders bare and just a tease of her exposed back.
The best part of her fancy dress was how good her tits looked in it. Her wide hips were plainly visible, curves everywhere and outlining her delicious backside, the perfect woman.
Four hours in, Somi's energy level was just as high as at the start. Perhaps it was your company, or the high of her first solo photo shoot that kept her spirits lifted, filling her tank to get her through the rest of the day.
Bright lights went off again as Somi rotated through a myriad of poses, from sensual, to serious, to downright goofy, conveying a multitude of expressions that seemed to please the director.
Somi was a natural, the camera was in love with her and the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t hear her cute voice over the constant shutter sounds of the camera drowning out her playful laughter, but you knew she was having the time of her life.
Sitting there for hours at a time might have been dull as a spectator, but not so much as you loved watching Somi in different outfits and different styles of makeup. She stepped back into the dazzling lights appearing as an almost completely different person.
The brightly lit set became flooded with staff again. Somi was handed a bottle of water to her left, while on her right someone wiped her brow carefully with a white towel, heading out of view as if that were their only job.
“Thirty minute break!”
An echoing voice from the director rattled the walls as a much needed break was called. Somi was filled to the brim with unlimited energy as she headed to catering and you followed in her footsteps.
The catering table was surrounded in no time flat, trays of pastries and sweets spread out, an assortment of fruits and cheeses, sandwiches and skewered meats all made up a fantastic spread.
“Oh my god, I’m starving,” Somi said as she picked up a plate, stuffing it as high as she could, not even bothering to take a seat as she stuffed her face, forgoing the image she was portraying as a model as soon as she took her first bite.
“What do you think so far?” Somi asked as she found you, mumbling her words as she talked with her mouth full as she approached your position.
“You must be bored out of your mind.”
You shook your head and smiled. “I don’t mind. You look cute wearing all these outfits.”
“Which one was your favorite?” she asked, practically inhaling a bite of strawberry cheesecake.
“I liked the pink dress. And the white top with the jeans. This dress looks really nice on you too,” you said, trying your best not to stare at her chest while dozens of eyes were on you.
“I like it too. It’s light and comfortable and I can move around in it freely. Some of those other dresses I could barely walk in,” she said, annoyed.
Somi waited for a handful of staff members to pass by, exchanging polite bows and smiling as they headed off with equally filled plates.
“I want you to take it off me,” she whispered, flashing a mischievous smile, one that had you seen before.
“You want me to help you change?”
Somi shook her head cutely, keeping her lips pressed close enough to your ear that you could feel her hot breath nuzzling your earlobe.
“I want you to fuck me in this dress, daddy.”
Thankfully nobody was in earshot.
“It’s going to be several more hours before I’m finished shooting. There’s a spare dressing room in the back that nobody is using...” she playfully said, her expression the same as when she tried to convince you her vibrator was a neck massager.
“You’re bad, Somi,” you said, her gaze agreeing with you as you stared into each other’s eyes as if you were wondering what you were about to get into.
You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Lead the way. I’ll stay a few steps behind you.”
Somi nodded gleefully, putting her half finished food down on the nearest table.
“I’ll uh, be back. I think something I ate didn’t agree with me,” she announced, letting the staff know she wasn’t going to be available for the time being.
If your calculations were correct the break was called about ten minutes ago, leaving you with twenty minutes left, yet also Somi leaving herself an excuse if extra time was needed.
But twenty minutes was more than enough time for what you wanted to do to her.
You carefully followed Somi, taking care to leave additional space in trailing her as you weaved through makeup tables and desks full of equipment, disappearing behind the set as your heart raced at what was about to happen.
“Come on,” she said, waving you down a long dark corridor and looking behind her as she took purposeful steps. Shortly after, she opened a door and stepped inside, ushering you in as the two of you looked around, making sure the coast was clear before entering.
Somi entered first, locking the door behind you as her lips smirked. She placed her hat and sunglasses on a nearby countertop, ruffling her hair messily.
“You’re so naughty, Somi.”
“Am I? What are you going to do with me?” she asked, putting her arms behind her back.
Stepping closer, you moved her hair out of her neck, planting your lips on her soft skin and sucked for several seconds, careful not to leave a mark. You took each of her dress straps in your fingertips, playing with them as you looked deeply into her eyes.
She stared back as if to say do it as you pulled the top of her dress down to her waist in one swift movement, exposing her full supple breasts as they bounced freely. You kissed up her stomach, marking her soft skin with your mouth until you reached her large heavy breasts, practically drooling all over her chest.
It was regretful that you couldn’t spend the entire hour worshipping her perfect tits, lips closing around a sensitive nipple that had already hardened as you latched on, sucking gently while you squeezed her free breast.
“F-fuck, daddy,” Somi moaned, as you took your time in sucking her tits, enjoying the sounds of satisfaction she released as your lips wrapped around each of her nipples, covering them in your saliva.
You loved Somi’s huge breasts as much as you loved breathing, the threat of a deadline hovering over her almost didn’t deter as you devoured her breasts.
Your pants tightened as you alternated breasts, slurping loudly and slicking up her stiff pink nipples with your tongue, leaving them swollen and doused in drool as you gave equal attention.
“I wish I could suck these all day,” you said, giving a disappointed look as you kept your focus on her beautiful tits, squeezing and kneading them, never wanting to leave your hands from them.
“I want you to do just more than suck them, daddy,” Somi said, moaning at your touch. You simply couldn’t get enough of her delicious tits, biting her swollen nipples as she whined and threw her head back.
Somi’s attention shifted to the bulge in your pants, and without another word she lowered to her knees and began to undo your pants. Her needy hands cupped your crotch, giving a firm squeeze.
She looked up for a second before she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your thin boxers, yanking them down with power and unleashing your stiff erection as her eyes widened, her lips smiling hungrily.
Her gaze never broke as she rubbed your leaking tip on her stiff nipples, spreading precum on and using your shaft to slap her large breasts with your cock. Somi loved getting your hungry shaft ready for what she was about to do, but no amount of work would ever truly prepare you for what was next.
Somi opened her mouth without a word, spitting on your shaft several times and stroked your cock furiously, lubricating you nicely with her own saliva. She took control of your shaft, placing it in the comfort of her pillowy soft breasts, trapping it as you moaned at the warmth enveloping your hard shaft.
Her chest began moving slowly, massaging your throbbing shaft and causing a torrent of pleasure as she created orgasmic friction, causing your shaft to twitch. Your cock had no chance to escape, surrounded by flesh that wrapped around it, causing your breath to be taken away as several sensations flooded your body.
Somi had the biggest grin on her face as she squeezed her tits around your cock firmly, using her hands to cup them and make sure you weren’t going anywhere besides her abundant cleavage.
“How does it feel daddy? You love fucking my big tits, don’t you?” she pointlessly asked, picking up the pace just enough to drive you wild with intoxicating pleasure. Your eyes were glued to her huge tits, watching your cock disappearing, every inch of throbbing flesh being swallowed up by her lubricated cleavage.
“Fuck yes, baby. It feels so damn good,” you replied, matching her rhythm and helping pump your shaft in between her tits, so much warm flesh hugging you tight that never wanted to let you go.
You couldn’t help but moan freely at the intense pleasure. You loved the way your leaking cock felt snuggled in between her cleavage, you wanted it to stay there forever. Her breasts felt so soft, softer than silk as you thrusted endlessly, savoring every moment of ecstasy.
Somi loved the feeling of your hard cock trapped between her sizable tits just as much as you did, trying to lick the sensitive head of your cock when it showed itself again, adding additional spikes of pleasure each time she succeeded.
You were more than content to keep this up, keep the incredible pleasure going until you couldn’t take anymore, but things were just getting started.
“Daddy…” Somi whined, moving her breasts up and down as you thrusted in her deep suffocating cleavage.
“What is it, baby?”
“I want to suck your cock. I’m still hungry,” she said, anxiously waiting for permission.
“So suck my cock.”
Somi gave an ear to ear grin as you pumped yourself in between her chest a handful more times as she slowly let your cock slip out of her tits, rubbing it between her wet cleavage. Her delicate small hand wrapped around your shaft, throbbing at her touch as she stroked your cock up and down gently from base to tip.
"You're so hard, daddy,” Somi hummed, pumping your shaft and squeezing it tighter as you leaked over her slender fingers, giving your shaft a single solitary lick from base to tip, proudly tasting your precum.
“So yummy,” she said, giving repeated licks of your cock, teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, causing more fluids to leak out of your slit.
You would have loved Somi to spend more time teasing your cock, but time was of the essence here. She planted a soft wet kiss on your swollen tip, followed by another, kissing up and down your throbbing shaft and leaving her lips everywhere she could.
“This is much better than our catering,” Somi giggled, her voice full of desire and need, her wet tongue roaming every inch of your shaft. She pressed her lips on your flesh for one more deep kiss, causing a loud smacking sound to escape.
Her beautiful lips parted as the head of your cock disappeared inside her mouth, Somi sucking ever so softly on your tip and nothing more, causing you to groan softly at the intense sudden pleasure.
“Fuck, baby…”
Nothing ever matched the way Somi sucked your cock. Her small soft lips wrapped tightly around your cock, staring intently at you as her cheeks hollowed, applying the perfect amount of suction. Her mouth felt incredible, warm and wet in all the right ways. She took you deeper into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down in a short rhythm and as she held her gaze.
“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, scrambling for something to anchor yourself to. Thankfully you were inches away from the nearest countertop, finding the edge and gripping it tightly as Somi pleasured your cock expertly.
“I love sucking your cock so much, daddy,” Somi said as she lowered her head, nudging her nose against the base of your cock as she gave a few teasing licks on your tender balls.
“I love the way I can feel it throbbing inside my mouth. I love the way it tastes, it makes me so fucking wet, daddy.”
Somi’s filthy words aroused you even more as she dove her mouth onto your sensitive balls, tenderly sucking on them individually with just as much hunger. She kept a tight grip on your cock, giving slow strokes that accentuated your pleasure until your balls were doused in her warm saliva.
The combination of pleasure made you groan endlessly as she withdrew her lips from your balls after a few loud slurps, carefully fondling them.
“They feel so full. Is all this cum for me, daddy?” she asked, returning her focus to pleasuring your shaft, spitting on it several times and stroking it.
“Every last drop. They’re ready to be drained, baby.”
“I can’t wait, I want a nice big load inside me, daddy.”
Somi gave an approving smile, taking you back in the comfort of her wet mouth and sucking you off loud and wetly, lips almost to the very base of your shaft and leaving a glistening trail of saliva that followed.
Given the circumstances Somi wasn’t able to take her time with much regret. In a matter of moments she was furiously bobbing her head and taking every inch, letting out a shallow gag with every few strokes. She never quite conquered her gag reflex but didn’t seem bothered, she was just happy with every second her throat was filled.
Somi poured all her energy into giving you such a mind-numbing blowjob, moving her lips from tip to base, spilling saliva out of her mouth, covering your shaft in it. Her lips rested at the end of your shaft as her cute nose pressed against your stomach, smiling with a mouth full of a cock.
She came up for air, saliva dripping down her chin that she didn’t bother to wipe, her expression lust-filled.
“Fuck my face if you want,” she invited, taking your shaft and smacking herself in the face with it, rubbing it on her cheeks and lustfully grinning.
“I’d hate to ruin your makeup,” you replied, the one and only time you had that concern. Somi’s expression was full of disappointment, her smile fading and forming a pout.
“That’s the point,” she said, matter-of-factly. “My makeup artist can fix it later. She gets paid too fucking much anyways.”
Well, that settled that. Somi went back to slobbering on your cock as you placed your hands on both sides of her head, running your fingers through strands of hair and started thrusting inside her pretty mouth.
Consequences be damned, you were going to fulfill Somi’s wishes and desires, thrusting your hips back and forth and sliding every inch of your shaft down her tight warm throat.
Satisfied grunts and moans escaped your lips as you used Somi’s mouth for your pleasure, gagging her with your length as you struck the back of her throat to the point of tears from your forceful use, only encouraging you to give harsher thrusts.
“If only everyone knew what I was doing to you,” you said as Somi kept her mouth wide open for you as you furiously fucked her gorgeous face, slapping your full balls against her chin as she held onto your thighs and slurped hungrily.
“I bet that director had no idea what a cock-hungry little slut he hired did he?” you said, using Somi’s mouth as your personal toy, the constant sounds of gags and erotic slurps filling the small room as your pleasure sky-rocketed.
“Or your stylist unnie, she has no idea her cute innocent model loves choking on cock does she?”
Somi hummed around your cock in satisfaction, the vibration spiking your pleasure as you forced your cock down her throat, streaks of mascara starting to run and drip down her face.
Her makeup artist would certainly have her work cut out for her.
That wasn’t enough for you as you thrusted harder down her throat, slamming every inch nonstop without mercy, drool spilling out of her mouth and dripping onto her beautiful exposed tits as she choked and gagged on your needy cock.
“Take it all, baby,” you growled, holding the back of her head firmly against your crotch, not
caring if she could breathe or not. You desperately wanted to fill her messy warm mouth with cum, coating the back of her throat with it, but that dress looked so fucking sexy on her and you had other plans.
Instead, you savored the intoxicating warmth of her mouth for a few more thrusts, slowly withdrawing your drool-covered shaft as several lines of messy wet spit ejected from her lips, connecting to your swollen tip.
Somi gasped for air, rubbing her drool-covered face all over your wet shaft as she got the treatment she deserved, gargling the leftover saliva and spitting it onto your already drenched shaft.
You smirked at what you saw, once perfectly brushed hair was disheveled and out of place. Her eyes were still filled with tears, whatever leftover mascara she had staining her cheeks, drool glistening on her chin and her chest, an absolutely beautiful mess.
If only her staff could see her like this.
“Was I a good little slut, daddy?”
You nodded proudly and grabbed her dainty wrists and gently helped her to her feet, sharing intense eye contact as you kept the anticipation in the air high.
“I want to fucking ruin you,” you said, squeezing her breasts again, the drool coated on them making them glistening in the lights.
“Do it, please. Fuck me like the whore I am, daddy,” Somi begged, flashing the deepest set of fuck me eyes you had ever seen. You had gotten this far without getting caught, there was no reason to stop.
The dressing room was small with just two countertops, mirrors resting on top of each one waist high, used beauty products still scattered on both surfaces.
There weren’t that many options, no chairs in sight and the floor looked dirty and unkempt as it most likely hadn’t been touched in months if not longer. The counters provided ample space, but not enough for what you needed.
Somi looked at her designer watch she still had kept left on, and you saw you had ten minutes left before they would be looking for her. Plenty of time.
“How do you want it, baby?” you asked as you hiked her green dress up, surprised to see she had on a dark pair of blue panties for once.
“I don’t care, daddy, as long as you’re rough with me,” she said, biting her lip. You couldn’t help but smirk, roaming her tight body with her hands as you gripped her wide hips, harshly spinning her around as she gasped in delight.
“P-please, daddy. I need you. I need to be fucked so bad,” she pleaded, her eyes wide and bright. You kissed her bare shoulders, planting your lips behind her neck and whispered into her ear.
“I want you to watch me ravaging your pretty little cunt, baby.”
Somi dripped between her thighs and her muscles tensed up as you slid her skimpy thong to the side, exposing her gorgeous pussy to you, pink flesh dripping with arousal.
“O-of course, daddy,” Somi said, bending over the makeup countertop, sticking her plump round ass out and placing her palms flat on the surface, ready and willing to be taken right there.
Had there not been time restraints placed, you would have loved to make her beg and tease her pussy until she was as needy as could be, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option right now.
You spread her long legs, grabbing your throbbing shaft and rubbing her aching sensitive clit, pressing it against Somi’s hot wet flesh as she looked back, eyes full of desire.
“Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me like a whore.”
You didn’t hesitate for a second and pushed yourself in deep, her warmth suffocating you as you sank inside every inch of hot flesh, her cunt clenching hard as she moaned loudly. You didn’t waste time, thrusting immediately without any build-up, harshly gripping her hips as you began fucking her tight body from behind.
“Oh my god, daddy,” Somi moaned, her erotic expression visible in the mirror. Your rhythm was frantic from the very start, pistoning your hips and smacking them against her beautiful ass, causing her cheeks to ripple with every stroke.
“Such a tight little whore aren’t you? You like your pretty pussy stretched like this, baby?”
“Y-yes, daddy! You’re so fucking big, pound me daddy, pound me with your big fucking cock.”
“I’d fucking love to,” you replied, grabbing a rough handful of hair and wrapping your fingers around it, forming a ponytail and yanking back hard on it, tugging her head back. Her pussy clenched as she looked directly into the mirror, her eyes barely able to keep open as her mouth let out nothing but needy moans.
“Watch yourself, baby. Watch what I’m going to do to my pretty little cumslut.”
“Y-yes, daddy. R-ruin my pussy, please. Fuck my tight little hole until you blow your load in it!”
Somi’s filthy mouth only served to bring out your carnal desires, increasing your pace rapidly as you slammed her body against the counter, causing her back to arch perfectly as she screamed in delight. You really hoped the dressing room was far enough away from the rest of the staff to not be heard, but at this point you didn’t give a shit if they were listening right outside the door.
“F-fuck me harder daddy, p-please fuck me like the naughty whore I am!”
Your strong grip tightened on her hips, firmly pressing both thumbs into her toned back hard enough that you’re pretty sure was going to leave a bruising mark, one of the myriad of things Somi was going to have to figure out how to explain.
“Treat me like your pretty little fucktoy and break me!”
You watched intently in the mirror in front of you as Somi’s expressive features grew more contorted by the second, her lips only able to form breathless whiny moans and several strings of profanity.
Her pussy tightened to the point of almost causing pain, your shaft being lubricated thoroughly by her abundant slick that dripped down her thighs as you gave it your all, watching her breasts bouncing in the mirror in a way that hypnotized you into a trance.
“Choke me, daddy. Please, fucking choke your whore,” Somi said, as you seemed to be taken aback by every new sentence that left her lips.
You didn’t know what had gotten into her, but you didn’t have time to care as you dropped the bundle of hair you had, bringing the same hand to the front of her body, fondling one of her breasts before finding her warm, soft neck and wrapping your fingers around her throat and giving a gentle squeeze.
“More,” she demanded, and placed her small hand on the back of your own, increasing the pressure as she felt more airflow being restricted, thriving off the feeling she felt.
Somi’s dripping hot pussy pulsated wildly as you pumped into her, keeping a hand on her delicate throat as you looked at the sight in the mirror, something you’d never forget. Her chosen dress barely still on, mascara stains still visible underneath her eyes, her breasts bouncing deliciously with every rock of your hips as you choked her.
Somi kept her eyes focused straight ahead and loved every second of it.
It was hard to remember where you were, that this was still a designated break for Somi and that she would still have to return to work in a few short moments. Yet, you continued to pound into her tight cunt, giving such powerful hard thrusts she was liable to forget her own name.
“God, you’re so fucking deep inside my tight little pussy. Don’t stop fucking me, daddy, use me until you’re done with me!” Somi said, her words becoming an unrecognizable slur that all ran together.
Her warm wet walls grew wetter the harder you drilled her as the room became an orchestra of pleasure - the wet squelch of her pussy, harsh sounds of flesh smacking against flesh, and the constant rising volume of her loud needy moans and gasps, every second that went by without a knock on the door caused a sense of relief.
That satisfying smack of flesh grew louder and louder as you released your grip on her throat. earning a whimpering moan. Your hands weren’t kept idle as you grabbed Somi’s arms and pulled them back, gripping her wrists as her back arched even more, hammering into her pussy with as much energy as you could exert.
“Oh f-fuck, daddy! D-don’t stop, don’t stop fucking your slutty little whore!” Somi said, her clouded eyes barely able to watch herself in the mirror as you saw her vacant stare. You used her slender arms as handles to fuck her senseless, feeling her gripping pussy squeezing the life out of your cock as it pulsated wildly as the stale air in the small tight room grew hotter.
“I’m going t-to cum, daddy! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy-”
Somi didn’t even have time to finish her sentence, her body already trembling, her held back arms shaking as her pussy tightened even more. Her hips bucked, toes curling into her expensive heels as she shrieked, juices flooding out of her cunt as she came the hardest she had in some time.
You didn’t let up, not that she would have wanted you to as you fucked her through her intense orgasm, pounding away and maintaining the same breakneck pace, harsh stroke after harsh stroke into her heat.
Somi's constantly clenching pussy sent tingles up your spine, and you weren't that far off from your own release if the aching tightness in your balls was anything to go by.
"I'm gonna fucking fill your needy cunt with cum, baby," you hissed, not asking for permission, hooking her arms and bringing her body upright until her back was pressing against your chest, making sure she wasn't going anywhere.
"P-please cum inside me, daddy. Cum inside your filthy little whore! Please, daddy, dump your huge thick load inside my slutty wet pussy, please!"
You loved using Somi like this, her pussy begging for cum as you railed her without mercy, the use of her arms taken from her and nothing to hold on to and at your mercy, taking every thrust into her body and pleading for more. You watched her lustful expression in the mirror as her breasts never stopped bouncing, chasing that sweet release you both desperately wanted.
It wouldn't be much longer now, your hips smacking harshly against her ass as her cunt was fucked so hard she would definitely have trouble not only walking out of her but for the next few days. Savoring every thrust into Somi’s tight warm body, you never let up, keeping the pace as fast your limbs allowed you to move until you finally were pushed over the edge.
“I’m fucking cumming!”
It took less than a handful of thrusts as you buried yourself in Somi’s wet warmth, groaning loudly as you spilled your seed deep into her cunt, throbbing with each shot of hot cum that you emptied into her inviting body, filling her to the absolute brim.
You used the last remaining energy in your body, hips tiredly working until you had no more to deposit in her. Thoroughly drained you never stopped thrusting, trying to fuck your hot deep as it possibly could go, spilling every drop into her womb.
Your moments slowed down little by little until they halted completely as you released her arms as she collapsed against the counter, both of you spent, filled with fatigue and gasping for air, an equally exhausted mess of bodies.
You rested inside her for one final moment, wanting to savor her smothering warmth for as long as possible as you gave her ass a quick smack and slowly pulled out, a flowing stream of thick semen dripping out of her roughly used pussy, staining her beautiful thighs.
“H-holy shit, d-daddy, you fucked me so well,” she said, her words trembling as you slid her thong back in place and pulled her dress down as she turned around to face you.”
“You asked me to.”
“I’m going to be so sore,” Somi smiled as she leaned in and kissed your lips, her bare breasts pressing against your chest.
Your breathing resumed gradually as you wiped the sweat off your brow. You wanted to say something but were rudely interrupted by a voice from the intercom.
“Jeon Somi to the set please!”
The two of you frowned as Somi took one more step, lips locking on to yours deeply, gasping for air as they withdrew.
“You really made me a mess, daddy,” she said proudly, as she pulled her top back up, trying to fix her hair as best as she could.
“I better get cleaned up. Fuck me again after I finish up?”
“Of course, baby.”
She kissed you on the cheek as she made her exit, walking gingerly and taking slow, tired steps out of the room.
You felt a little guilty that her staff would have to put in so much extra work, but that was their problem not yours. The fact that your load would be dripping out of her for the rest of the photo shoot, just the thought putting a smirk on your face.
You pulled your pants back up, stopping by the nearest bathroom to try and fix your hair, freshening yourself up before heading back.
Somi had a lot of explaining to do.
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moon3thereal · 3 years
Note
Hey, i have a natasha x reader request. So Natasha is a very composed person always know what to do and basically everybody is terrified of the ex-assassin. But when she sees you for the first time she gets so flustered and ends up stuttering over her words, and it doesn’t stop every time she sees you her cheeks will turn red and and don’t know what to do, but it’s worse when you will compliment her or tease her, she will blush so hard when you “accidentally touch her” or throw a suggestive joke at her. The avengers will tease her relentless because of this because she is so lovestruck even in important meetings they will tease her to embarrass her in front of fury. Fluffy ending where reader kisses Nat and a very flustered and happy Nat after.
Title: Forbidden Rendezvous
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none but if you find any do lmk
a/n: thank you for the req! I enjoyed writing this one very much and i hope you guys like it <3
1.4k
Natasha Romanoff, the black widow herself, seemingly had a reputation to uphold. She was cold, ruthless, efficient, her instinct uncannily accurate. In short, she was one of the best agents in S.H.I.E.L.D if not the best. The Avenger was also pretty much the most stone-faced, cold-heartedly composed person in the world. She was a force to be reckoned with
That all went to hell when she met you, it was an avengers meeting, to be acquainted with the newest recruit to the Avengers initiative, all the Avengers had been told was that this recruit was a she and that she was one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s most elite agents and was probably here to babysit them and keep them out of trouble.
Which is why Natasha never expected someone like you to walk into the room, back straight, with the same elegant strut she’d found herself using more often than not. There was an air of composure around you, people could take one look at you and know that they shouldn’t mess with you. You had somehow managed to look daintily pretty but if they looked carefully at your posture, ready to attack should a threat arise, highly dangerous.
Once Natasha’s eyes landed on you, she couldn’t seem to tear them away, she was completely fixated on you, all the way from the door to when you took your place in an unoccupied seat with a bright smile on your lips that were painted just the right shade of red. Natasha studied the way a few strands of your hair fell out of your ponytail and curled around your jaw perfectly, framing your face. The way your lips parted to speak, presumably to introduce yourself, the Russian was put in a trance and there was an awkward silence when it was her turn to introduce herself
Clint, who was sitting next to her, raised an eyebrow at the dreamy look on her face and had to nudge her twice before she jumped slightly, startled and glared at him, he gestured to you and Natasha’s expression of indignation morphed to one of embarrassment and back to her original neutrality. You had noticed Natasha’s lingering stare on you, not the stare you’d seen her use on so many interrogatees and victims of her wrath, this stare was softer, almost like she was captivated by you
After a solid five seconds of Natasha pulling herself together, she extended her hand to you with a soft “hi, Natasha Romanoff” and before you had the chance to introduce yourself, she said “I mean, I’m Natasha Romanoff, you’re y/n y/l/n, I didn’t, I know you’re not Natasha Romanoff” The Avengers all had looks of astonishment on her face, she was always composed, even in the worst situations, none of them had ever seen her like this. Damn you Natasha she thought, she had absolutely no idea why her brain was short circuiting like this, it had never happened before
You laughed lightly before extending your own and shaking hers that was slightly sweaty, “hi, nice to meet you” she nodded, evidently flustered. How can someone be this perfect she thought. She’d seen you training in S.H.I.E.L.D quarters a few times but since she spent most of her time in the Avengers compound now, she’d never seen you up close.
After the meeting, which she hadn’t paid attention to anything else but the crease in your brows when you were concentrating, the way you knew how to disagree without offending the other individual, how intelligent you were, within the 2 hours you had joined the Avengers you had already solved a major problem with ease
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It had been a month since that day, you were settled in the compound, you had a room to yourself, and you found it pretty comfortable, you’d gone on a few minor missions, nothing serious. You were already enjoying their company and was getting used to the new environment. But you enjoyed Natasha’s company most, from what you know and what you heard, she was supposed to be an extremely dangerous individual, but around you, she was an absolute klutz and also the most adorable person you’ve met.
All the interactions between you too had always ended up in Natasha blushing furiously and you adoring how her cheeks got all rosy and her face would turn the same fiery red of her hair when you casually threw a suggestive comment her way, basically you both being absolutely whipped for each other and refusing to admit it first
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You were hacking into a computer system with Tony’s tech when Steve said “there’s no way you can pull that off, I know, I’ve tried” you simply scoffed, your hands flying over the keyboard typing in several coordinates “I’m y/n y/l/n, I can pull off everything” seizing the opportunity to once again fluster the redhead you pointed at her “including your clothes” just like you predicted, her cheeks immediately flushed red and a panicky chuckle fell from her lips
Steve rolled his eyes “see, according to you, I’m a million year old fossil, but still, even I can see that you are completely and irrevocably in love with her” you had successfully hacked into the system and pumped your fists triumphantly, transferring the information into a hard drive “I never said I wasn’t Rogers” you said sending a wink Natasha’s way and ‘accidentally’ brushing her bare arm lightly with yours as you passed by earning yourself a nervous squeak from her
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Even in important meetings, Natasha was often caught giving you heart eyes, like this one right now, Fury was staring at her waiting for her to give him a plethora of solutions like she normally would. This time however, she was busy staring at you and were practically making out with you with her eyes. Fury cast his glance around the avengers silently inquiring as to what happened to his best agent. “she’s infatuated with her new girlfriend” tony said
The abrupt voice snapped Natasha out of her thoughts and she sent him her killer glare “I am not” knowing chuckles reverberated around the meeting room, even you let out a soft laugh at her obliviousness. “Did you know that Romanoff let y/n borrow her motorbike?” Clint said in a faux conspiratory voice. The director’s eyebrows shot up “is that so?” one corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk
“So what if it is, its just a bike” Natasha tried to act nonchalant but the flush in her cheeks betrayed her. “Ah look, the adoptive murder daughter has found love” tony said sarcastically “I will cause you pain in ways you can’t even imagine” Natasha gritted out. Taking pity on her, you snapped your fingers “Okay okay, this has been fun, but back to the tesseract?”
After the meeting, and more relentless teasing, resulting in an extremely irritable Natasha, she had pulled you aside into an empty store room “ooh is this our forbidden rendezvous” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. Even in the dark, you could swear that Natasha was blushing like she always did even if you so much as looked at her
“no this is me apologizing on behalf of the team and what they said back there, it was disrespectful-” catching your quirked eyebrow and look of amusement indicating that you were in fact not at all offended by the team’s teasing and she was the only one amongst all of them that didn’t know you had feelings for her too. Deciding to be bold for once, she smirked “it could be our forbidden rendezvous though”
You smiled and closed the distance between you. You could feel her breath hitch when she noticed how close you were, how she could tilt her head slightly and her lips would meet yours, how much she wanted to feel your lips on hers. So that’s exactly what she did, when your lips touched, it was just like how they described it in books. It ignited something resembling a thunderstorm in you and you couldn’t acknowledge anything else except how her lips felt perfect against yours. You reached to run a hand through her crimson tresses, and when breathing became a difficulty she pulled away, ruffled and lips parted she smiled showing all her impossibly white teeth
“Who knew you were such a good kisser”
“Who knew you would ever get bold enough to find out”
Taglist: @phoenixofash @michelle-dsn @midgardianweasley @zolvaska @jokertgkk @yeeterthekeeper
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sopxhiea · 3 years
Text
Disturbance
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Alfie Solomons X Reader
Summary: The scary gangster realizes that there’s only one creature that will not do as he says and his soft spot for the eldest girl grows into something else before he can prevent it.
Part 1
“She’s cranky.”
“Move away if you don’t want this kiss.”
He’s not going to say it.
Not when he watches you fiddle around with the buttons in your hand, the one your younger sister ripped off her jacket the same morning. He will not open his mouth when you come around to talk to him about some shipments and some things that don’t add up. Not even when you’re so close to him, standing right next to his seated form that he can smell the vanilla off you. 
Although everyone knows it.
The match was rather uneventful, a test of some sorts for the gangster to make sure he kept his hands to himself. He had behaved, asked after the girls and about you and you’d given him vague information while wearing what he thought seemed like a golden shower. He had gone out to gather himself a few times, leaving a confused pretty lady and snickering Ollie behind.
He was a man that got everything he wanted.
People never said no to him, most of the time they already knew what he wanted anyway but you just toyed with the gangster. A few smiles here and there, a slight touch on his arm and he was feeling some type of way already. He had dropped you off at your house after collecting your sisters and found his eyes searching for you in every little corner.
He was right fucked, as he’d put it.
It’s been a couple of months of you working for the gangster. The workload is significantly demanding and the more time passes, the more jobs he gives you but you don’t dare complain. Your sisters are all in school, some sort of daycare in the weekends whenever you have to work and he’s the one making sure you’re all taken care of. 
There’s less screaming in the mornings, as Essie has grown fond of the broad man who shows up nearly every morning with breakfast in his hands. She’s young, and even Lily doesn’t see the way he steals glances your way but Emily, the oldest is not blind and the gangster forgets that. Although he doesn’t mind in the slightest.
The bakery is hot with the changing season, hot to a point where short sleeves do not cut it anymore. The women at the front bakery store have told you to wear skirts, long ones with less garments underneath but you have decided on a dress, nothing fancy but something to get you by around the house as well. It almost hugs you too tight in some areas and you realize this once some bakers start giving you a look but are too afraid to flirt or even comment.
Since you’re off limits.
Apparently everyone knows but you. The workers, the bakers around the front, even Emily but she won’t say a word because she thinks Alfie will take away her going out at night privileges she’s earned by taking care of Lily. You climb the stairs, footsteps soft against the wood and he hears it, almost feels a lump in his throat but decides he’s too much of a man to feel light-headed around a woman, whatever that means.
You knock once and enter, don’t realize the way his eyes are ogling you in the dress you’re in. A smile is apparent on your lips and he knows what day it is. 
“Mr. Solomons-”
“‘s Alfie, lass.” he says, like a plea at this point to try and get you stop calling him by his surname. Not only does he want to hear you say his name but the formality does things to him where he has to shift in his pants.
“Mr. Solomons, Lily has that ballet recital today and I was wondering if I could leave early to get ready.” you say and he nods, looking at your eyes the entire time. 
He knows what day it is, since Lily has spoken of it so much and you realize the gangster remembers everything, well almost everything, they say. She’s been showing him some moves she’s learned for the recital every morning he’s around and all he’d do was to clap with Essie on his lap.
“When is it, pet?” he asks, the pet name stuck on you after months of working for the man and you don’t mind. If anything, it’s the evident mark on his soft spot for you but you don’t ponder on it too much. 
“Around 7, I think. Shouldn’t last too long.” you speak and he throws a light smile your way. His lips are closed this time as he watches you, head to toe and you wonder about how appropriate some things he does around you are.
That is not to say that you’re not oblivious but you’ve been around enough men to know the signs. The way he leans towards you while walking, the small nods he throws your way each time you’re around his perimeter and not to mention Essie telling you that Alfie had been calling you ‘the pretty sister’ for a while now. 
But you decide some things take time.
And you speak this time, before he can ang the slight glisten in his eyes do not help. “You want to come with?” you speak, and his eyebrows raise slowly.
He’s a smart man.
Taking care of his late employee’s girls as much as he could, that was smart. Offering them all his help and even visiting them in the mornings, that was smart. Hiring his pretty little daughter who happens to be an excellent bookkeeper to walk around in dresses, that was not smart. 
Going to the younger one’s ballet recital, that would not be smart.
He didn’t care for the talk around town, people loved to gossip and he knew it from being around the streets but he figured it would hurt the little girls and her. And he wouldn’t let that happen, it simply wasn’t smart. 
But he did want to see you in a different dress, all dolled up.
He wasn’t too proud of the dreams he’d been having, they were mostly daydreams but he’d caught himself envisioning you in too many scenarios that involved a lack of clothing and an expression of pure bliss. He knew the boundaries but the looks you would give him didn’t help.
“Lily would like it.” you speak and it’s the last blow.
And you know it.
Unlike what many would’ve thought, the gangster is not all he was told to be. Sure, he’s scary looking and very cruel to some but not to little girls. He’s soft, too kind at times you find out as you watch him play with your little sisters every morning. 
He doesn’t care, he realizes and the words leave his mouth before he can stop himself, although it doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “I’m fuckin’ there, lass.”
------
He can hear the screaming.
He knocks once on the door and braces himself. The man has been to war, seen dead bodies with their brains all over the soil but this, this he has to get ready for. Emily opens the door with a scowl, which then turns into a smile when she sees it’s him. She’s wearing a pretty dress, hair done beautifully and Alfie wonders how the other ones are looking.
“Hello, Mr. Solomons.” she speaks, Alfie can tell you have taught her to speak that day but reckons he can do better.
“Aye, Emily, what did we say about ya’ callin’ me that, hm?” he asks, not swearing although it takes all his might to be careful.
“But Y/N said-” she says and confirms his suspicions. Alfie throws a smile at the young girl before stepping in and realizing the living room is empty, although the screaming has not stopped.
“Eh, your sister says a lot of things, don’t she.” he asks and sits down on his usual place on the sofa and Emily sits next to the gangster and nods. She’s changing by the passing day and Alfie feels like he can’t catch up.
“Good thing she’s pretty.” Emily says in all seriousness and it causes him to burst into laughter, laughter in which Emily joins her.
And that’s when you emerge from the bedroom.
Lily is holding your hand, wearing a purple dress with ribbons on her hair. Alfie can tell she cried from the hiccups that come and go but she has a smile on her lips now. Essie, on the other hand, is still crying as you hold her on the other side. Her dress is slightly different in color, looks wonderful nonetheless.
And there’s you.
Your dress is slightly shorter and completely different in color. The olive green material ends around just under your knees, with a generous look around your collarbones. Your hair is tied, a low bun which Essie threatens to ruin at any given moment. Alfie feels himself get stuck for a second but Emily slightly elbows him so that the brute can gather himself and speak.
“’ello, pet.” he speaks and Lily slowly approaches him, as she sometimes does and reaches for the beard. Alfie lets him, eyes traveling from the little one to you.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” you say, voice soft as you put Essie on the couch next to Emily so you can get your coat and theirs.
“Em let me in.” Alfie says and Emily nods, her youngest sister on her lap.
“Oh..okay.” you say and disappear behind the door. The entire time, Alfie is watching you go and Emily is watching him. She’s amused to say the least.
And that’s when Essie starts crying again.
You emerge from one of the rooms with all their coats. The little one is not coming with you, as your trusted neighbor has agreed to watch her for the night. You dress Lily and Emily dresses herself in their coats and Alfie clears his throat, making you look up at him and he signals Essie and her crying.
Although he’s far too used to it at this point.
“She’s just cranky, I don’t know why.” you say, clearly frustrated as you finally let go of Lily and reach for Essie to put her coat on.
“Tried the bribin’?” he asks with a smile on his lips and you shake your head.
“Well, if you’re talking about giving her sweets to shut her up....yes.” you say and he chuckles with a curt nod.
Then all of you get in the car, with Alfie’s hand on the small of your back and you carrying Essie. You don’t miss the way Emily looks at you, eyebrows wiggling each time she catches your eye but you just tell her to stay put. Then you drop off Essie, with much trouble and get to the recital with a gangster sitting next to you.
----
The recital goes on pretty smoothly, all cheers and smiles as Alfie lingers at the back. Emily claps for her sister, a smile on her lips as she does so but you excuse yourself a little after to get some air as they get ready for the next act. Alfie watches you walk towards the back part through the exit and decides Emily is old enough to take care of herself.
He finds you sitting on the pavement around the back part of the building, breathing deeply as you look around every now and then. He knows you need these moments. Moments of stillness without any screams, without Emily asking you for a dress or Lily’s chocolate covered hands. He knows you love them but the deed is much too strong for you.
“Y/N.” he says, cautious as he approaches you. You’re no longer sitting but leaning against the concrete block. 
“Emily’s inside?” you ask, your prior concern always being your sisters. He nods and speaks.
“Yeah, she ‘s.” he says and you nod this time.
You search his eyes then, for something that will tell you why he’s there. It’s easy to grow fond of him, you think, especially when you see him so much but there’s another side to the coin you don’t like to think of. The danger that comes.
“Something wrong?” you ask and see the heaviness in his gaze. You don’t quite know what it is, since he’s not a man easily read but you figure you know a thing or two by now. 
He shakes his head and then looks at you. There’s uncertain things swimming in your orbs much like him and he wonders if they’re the same things. Doubts and then turns his face to look at the sky. 
“There’s somethin’, yeah..” he speaks and you know better than to interrupt him.  “.....somethin’ I really wanna fuckin’ do.” he says and you nod, urging him to go on but he seems to stall for a second. He then speaks, he’s not looking at the sky anymore but you. “But see, pet, there are things yeah, fuckin’ things blockin’ my way.”
he says and watches you nod, understanding but then you stop and a smile graces your lips. It’s not mocking but not sweet either.
And then you speak, not afraid to counter his words. “I never took you as someone who’d stop just because there were....things blocking the way.” you speak and you half-know what he’s saying. 
He’s not the most subtle of admirers. You’re not bothered by it, quite the opposite if anything. You know he’s a man of power, known as cruel to some although you’d speak to differ. His lines are all harsh, you’re too soft compared to him so you don’t count on the opportunity of anything happening. 
He takes a step towards you, and then one more until he’s entirely too close. You don’t dare move and his eyes are locked into your lips. You are right, he thinks, he’s not a man that stops at anything just because he’s had a couple of doubts. But then, the doubts are worth taking into account if it’s you. He’s all harsh lines and your softness seems unreachable to him.
His eyes look at your lips for a solid second, his entire presence looming over you as you stay still. He’s tall, a bit too tall for you if you’re honest but you just crane your neck and he leans down slightly, you’d know what his lips would feel like against yours.
And then he moves and speaks. “Move away if you don’t want this kiss.”
He’s not a man of doubts, he gathers and yes, there is a lot at stake but he goes after what he wants. Alfie always has and currently, the thing he wants is standing right in front of him and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna pass up the opportunity to kiss the pretty lass.
His lips are soft, unexpectedly so as his hand finds your waist and resides there while the other cradles your skull with a gentleness that seems foreign to him. He kisses you softly before pulling away slightly to see if you’ve moved in any way but sees you staring at his lips, standing exactly still.
Then you reach for him.
He thinks he’s dreamed it until your lips peck his for the last time and you break the kiss. He sees the blush rising on your cheeks, lipstick smeared and hair slightly puffier than before. He doesn’t take a step back, stares down at you as you fix yourself too fast for him to realize what’s happening but he remembers you’re good at fixing people up.
You sigh, licking your lips once more to savor the feel of his lips before you speak. Your voice is breathy and he has to stop himself from assaulting your lips once more. “Come on, then. Emily will be waiting.”
And he follows you like your tail for the rest of the evening.
-----
He’s smiling like a damn fool.
It’s easy to realize that the big scary gangster is not all that cruel. Sure, there is a side to him that’s simply cruel. He’s not the most forgiving when it comes to some either but he also happens to be a huge teddy bear, you think as you watch him handle Essie after you’ve opened the front door to the house.
“Emily, can you take care of Essie for a minute?” you ask, not waiting for an answer from your sister before you drag Alfie by his sleeve to the kitchen. The girls stare at each other for a while before they all move to their rooms, except Lily who waits for you in front of the door.
You close the door, immediately after he enters the kitchen and look at him with a stern gaze. He’s making it obvious, all of it. The big scary gangster has had a stupid grin on his face ever since you’d kissed him and it makes you frustrated. 
“What?” he asks, still smiling a little as you stand in front of him, arms crossed and not amused at all.
“Are you going to stop smiling?” you ask, a slight mock to your words as you stare up at him.
He takes a step towards you then, his aim to trap you between his broad form and the door almost achieved before you escape his embrace by ducking under his arm. 
“Lass, come ‘ere.” he says with a tone you haven’t heard before and you don’t follow his orders, as much as you want to.
“Alfie, the girls are right outside.” you say, trying to take steps back each time he takes one towards you. Your back meets the cold wall then, a ‘shit’ passes your lips and he chuckles. His breath tickles your face. It’s not that you don’t want to kiss the gangster but the chance of Emily barging in to see the scene is too high to risk it.
But it seems as though he doesn’t care.
His lips are greedy this time, not as soft as they’ve been as he devours you within the short amount of time he’s given. You moan lowly at the way he’s kissing you and hear a thump against the kitchen door which makes both of you stop.
“Let me in!” Lily screams and it makes Alfie chuckle while all you do is glare.
Before you can open the door and pick your sister up, Alfie traps your small frame between the wall and him again and speaks. He’s not daft and knows how he wants to carry this out. His voice comes out muffled between his small pecks.
“We’ll talk once they’ve gone to fuckin’ bed, yeah, I’ll wait, pet.” he says, eyes greedy as he lets you go. You nod once more before opening the door and taking a red-faced Lily in your arms.
She doesn’t say anything at first but then speaks, connecting the dots a bit faster than you’d initially thought she would. She speaks as loud as she can and you swear she’s doing it on purpose.
“What were you doing?!” she says and finger points at Alfie but before he can answer you put her on the sofa and speak.
“Grown-up stuff.” you say and that seems to shut her up for the time being.
Emily then comes in the living room with Essie on her arms, Lily now sitting on Alfie’s lap as he tells the little girl a story about another dog he had. You watch him as his eyes meet yours in the middle of speaking, a childish glisten before he cradles her in his arms and speaks.  “Now, time for bed, innit.”
The rest of the night is filled with you running around as Essie screams and Alfie rocks her around. She doesn’t seem to mind the rocking until she almost throws up on him and it makes you laugh entirely too much for an accident. Emily takes care of herself, in bed before bedtime and you take care of Emily in the meantime. 
When you walk into Essie’s room, you see her on his arms as he rocks her back and forth, the little one sound asleep. You note the way she’s holding onto his bracelets and how he hesitates to put her in the crib. You give him a small nod and close the door behind you. He pecks your lips once more before taking your hand and dragging you away into your room and murmurs under his breath to not wake the little one. “Time for grown-up stuff.”
----
Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras​ @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum
A/n: Heyyy I hope you liked this chapter, do let me know what you thought and if you’d like to be added to the tag list !!
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helloalycia · 3 years
Text
The Wrong Lifetime — Fourteen // Wanda Maximoff
chapter thirteen | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | epilogue
author’s note: the last chapter is finally here! i hope you like it 😊
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There were many times when I'd get distracted by thoughts of Wanda.
I could be going for a walk and remember that time she tripped over the flat pavement, almost bringing me down with her. I could be shopping for stationary and remember that time she almost bought the whole shop in one visit. I could be sitting by the water fountain and remember that time she tried to make a wish, only to drop her whole purse in it.
This time, I'd just woken up to the sun streaming through my curtains. I rolled over to an empty bed, hand brushing against the cold sheets as they expected more. For some reason, my subconscious decided to taunt me with a memory taking place just after we'd first made love in her room...
"I love you so much," Wanda told me with an enchanting smile.
I turned to face her, one arm comfortable under the pillow as the other rested outside the duvet, covering my bare chest. She raised her hand, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear before resting her hand there. I smiled at the contact and felt a warmth spreading all over me at the affectionate gaze she sent my way.
"I know, love, you only said it several times," I teased lightly, making her chuckle. "I love you, too, though, in case you didn't know."
She sighed contently, eyes closing. I admired how beautiful she looked with her hair sprawled over her bare shoulders, smile on her lips and freckles dusting her skin. Her touch still ghosted my body, taste still embedded between my lips, scent still wavering in my nose. She was permanent and I was certain she'd never leave.
"We should probably get up in case somebody comes to check on us," she said, interrupting my moment of admiration.
Her eyes flickered open slowly, blue with golden flecks glistening right back at me. Suddenly, anything that happened after this didn't matter to me. For once, I appreciated where we were, what we had and nothing more or less. No wedding, no future... just now.
"We should," I agreed regretfully, though her leg moved closer to mine and made me wish we could stay here longer. "I wish we didn't have to."
She smiled halfheartedly, hand moving down my cheek, caressing the skin, before they rested at my chin. She outlined my lips with her thumb before leaning forward and stealing a kiss.
"Can't we have a few more minutes?" she asked, lips brushing mine as she spoke.
She was making it very hard to deny her and judging from the playful smirk on her lips, she knew that.
"I guess we can," I agreed quietly, making her smile with satisfaction.
She rolled on top of me, capturing my lips in a kiss as her bare chest pressed to mine and my hand found her waist for support. As usual, the effect she had on me was indescribable and I couldn't imagine us ever leaving the bed. I knew for sure that I'd never been happier than I was in that moment.
It was such a perfect moment, but it haunted me. Nothing felt right without her. She'd overwhelmed all of my senses and remained, even when I didn't have her by me in person. The wedding was literally in a few weeks, but I hadn't managed to get over her.
How could I be her maid of honour when I could barely speak to her? Not without wanting to curl in a ball and cry afterwards. Every thing I did seemed to be filled with memories of her. She was inescapable.
A groan left my lips as I dragged my hand down my face with frustration. I couldn't let her get to me yet again. I had an interview with the local paper today. The last thing I needed was Wanda as a distraction.
So, with that lovely thought lingering in my mind, I dragged myself out of bed to get ready for the day ahead.
Press interviews weren't something I was used to.
Whenever Y/B/N had them with journalists for his books, I wasn't present. The only thing I heard was when he came back and told me how it went, then I proceeded to read about it in the paper the next day.
I was sat in Steve's office at Maximoff Publishing with Steve sat by my side, sending me a supportive smile. A journalist from the local paper sat before us, notebook and pen in hand as he watched on with curious eyes.
"So, Y/N," he began. "I'll start with the obvious, if you don't mind."
I glanced at Steve who nodded encouragingly. Clearing my throat, I looked to the journalist. "Sure thing."
He smiled and glanced at his notebook before asking, "How does it feel to be published? You're Pietro Maximoff's first female author."
"An author who happens to be female," I corrected, hoping I didn't come off as rude. "And that isn't something that should be new, in my opinion. It should be normalised."
He nodded, noting it down in his notebook. "Controversy... I like it."
Swallowing hard, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
"I think the readers would like to know how you managed to score a publisher," he began his next question. "How exactly did you get noticed amongst the many authors that look to be published?"
Okay, not so difficult, I could answer that.
"Well, it was actually my–" I paused, Wanda's face flashing to mind. Okay, maybe a little difficult.
"Your...?" the journalist prompted.
I blinked, attempting to find my words.
"Wanda," Steve answered, starting me off.
I looked to him with grateful eyes before looking back to the journalist. "Right. Yes. Wanda."
"Your brother's fiancé, right?" the journalist asked for clarification.
"Yes," I answered, with an accidental clipped tone. "She... she was the one who gave my work to her brother. Asked him to look at it. And the rest is history."
The journalist was making notes as I spoke, nodding and humming in response, before looking to me with raised brows.
"So, the wedding," he said, making me wince subtly. "Are you excited?"
Forcing a smile, I said, "Ecstatic."
"How does it feel to have your two families uniting?" he asked, and I chewed on my lips, unsure how to respond.
"I– er–"
"Are you afraid that Y/B/N marrying Wanda may put him in Pietro's good graces?" he interrupted eagerly, leaning forward in his seat.
I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn't know what to say that wouldn't land me in hot water or make me look like a jealous sibling. Glancing to Steve questioningly, he thankfully noticed my speechlessness and gave the journalist a warning stare.
"Can you stay on topic, please?" he asked the keen journalist. "Y/N is here to talk about her book and nothing more."
"Okay, okay," the journalist gave in, making me exhale slowly. "What's next in store for your readers, Y/N? A sequel, perhaps?"
"I'm not sure," I answered truthfully. "I'm still in awe at the reception from the first one."
He nodded, note taking as he listened. "How many books do you think you'll get out of your career before getting married like your brother?"
I raised my eyebrows with disbelief. But I didn't get to answer as he was already moving onto his next question.
"Are you not worried about getting married? You know, men don't like smart women."
Narrowing my eyes at him, I clenched my fists by my side and was very close to strangling him before we were interrupted. A servant whom I recognised from home knocked on the door and earned everyone's attention.
"Oh, tell him to go away," the journalist said dismissively, waving his hand.
Steve looked to me and I plastered a bitter smile on my lips as I glanced at the journalist.
"I'd let him in if I were you," I told Steve, and he seemed to understand that I was about to pummel the journalist if I wasn't distracted, because he nodded and motioned for the servant to enter.
The journalist sighed rudely and I clenched my jaw before looking to the servant with a quirked brow. He looked out of breath, panting for air and face flushed red.
"Did you run here?" I realised, cocking my head to the side with confusion.
He nodded, straightening up and attempting to catch his breath. "Yes, Miss Y/L/N. Very sorry to interrupt, but your mother insisted I hurry."
My eyes widened. "Oh, God, what happened? Is she okay?"
"Kind of," he answered, before clarifying, "The wedding between your brother and Miss Maximoff has been cancelled."
"What?!" everyone in the room asked at the same time.
What did he mean the wedding had been cancelled?! Wanda and Y/B/N weren't going to get married?
"I don't know the details," the servant got out quickly. "I just know that your mother sent me to fetch you as soon as possible. She's distraught and requires you home immediately."
I nodded instantly, already making a move to stand up, then I remembered where I was.
"You mustn't publish anything you just heard," I told the journalist with a stern finger, but he seemed over the moon at the news.
"Go, Y/N, your mother needs you," Steve said, resting a hand on my shoulder as he, too, stood up. He side-eyed the journalist as he added, "I'll take care of this tool."
At that, the journalist's eyes widened with fear and judging from the smirk on Steve's lips, I knew things would be okay.
"Thank you," I told him, hugging him quickly, before looking to the servant. "I'll go now. Thank you."
After giving the servant some money to grab a treat and calm him from his breathless state, I got a carriage home with my mind racing a million thoughts a minute.
Why was the wedding off? My mum was distraught, according to the servant, so that could only mean it hadn't been her choice. Was it Y/B/N? Had he broken it off? Or maybe it was Wanda? But no. She'd never do that. She wouldn't hurt her family like that.
I wasn't sure what it was, but I definitely didn't know how to feel. This could either be heavily in my favour or go against me in the worst way possible...
When I arrived home, I found my family in the dining room. My mum was sat down, upset and shaking her head in her hands, tear marks on her face. My dad was sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly and whispering calming things to her as my brother stood to the side, looking apologetic and uncomfortable.
"It's okay, mum, it'll be okay," he was saying to her from across the table. "It's not a big deal. I can find somebody–"
"Hello...," I began awkwardly, standing in the doorway and hesitant to move forward. "I just got the news from our servant. What happened?"
"Oh, Y/N, you shouldn't have–" my father began regretfully, before my mum slammed her hand on the table and glared at my brother.
"Y/B/N broke off the engagement!" she shouted with frustration.
"There you go...," my dad mumbled before returning his attention to his wife.
"Mum, I–"
"You did what?!" I cut Y/B/N off with raised brows. "You broke off the engagement? You dumped Wanda?"
He looked to me with sad eyes. "Y/N–"
"You idiot!" I shouted, feeling angry as I imagined the effect this must have had on the Maximoff family. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you–?!"
He grabbed my waving arm and dragged me out of the dining room, making me shove him off when we reached the hall.
"Why the hell did you break it off?!" I yelled at him with a glare. "Why would you–"
"I didn't!" he whisper-shouted back, looking down at me with a downcast expression. "She did!"
My anger faded as I realised he was telling the truth. He looked genuinely hurt, eyes glassy and a frown on his lips. Wanda was the one to break it off? What?
"She broke it off with me," he elaborated quietly, so our parents couldn't hear. "She told me this morning. She said she didn't love me and that she couldn't marry me."
I swallowed hard, looking away from him momentarily. "Why did you tell mum and dad that it was you who broke up with her?"
He pinched his forehead with agitation. "Because it looks a lot less foolish if I say it was me rather than her. She doesn't love me, Y/N. She never did."
I risked looking at him, seeing his disheartened expression. Part of me felt guilty because I knew it was my fault this had happened, but I couldn't exactly say that to him, so I stayed quiet. He shook his head once more before walking away, leaving me standing there with shock.
"Er, Miss Y/L/N?"
I spun around when one of our servants approached me.
"I know now isn't the best time," she began, "but a letter came for you earlier. I left it on your desk as you were at work."
Nodding, I offered the servant a halfhearted smile before watching her leave. There was so much to unpack right now...
I headed upstairs and to my room to see what letter was here for me. But I was finding it hard to focus since all that was on my mind was the broken engagement and Y/B/N and Wanda... I needed to see her. What the hell was I doing here?
Planning on going to see Wanda as soon as possible, I grabbed the letter from my desk with the intention of reading it on the way out, but then I recognised the handwriting on the front and paused at my desk.
It was Wanda's handwriting.
I hurried to tear open the envelope, wondering what she had to say. It was no doubt related to the broken engagement.
Dearest Y/N,
I hope that you manage to read this letter before you hear the news, but knowing our families, you'll read it afterwards. In which case, you will know that I have broken off the engagement with Y/B/N.
It was the right thing to do. I chose to do it and I'm sorry if it's caused tension between your brother and your family, but I knew that I couldn't go forward with it when I'm in love with you. I'm not expecting you to come back to me and run away together all dramatically – this isn't about that.
I did this for myself. I'm not in love with your brother and I never was. He should have known that. He had to. Because if not, I'm afraid I broke his heart. And that's the last thing I wanted.
I also did this for you. I need you to know that I'm not heartless or horrible and I didn't expect you to sacrifice anything for me. Cheating on your brother with you... I never meant for this to happen, nor did I mean to get in the way of you both. Falling in love with you was completely accidental, but I don't regret it.
I don't want to go on too much, but I just needed you to know the truth, from me, that I am truly sorry for causing you such pain. I'm still in love with you and I'll never forget what we had. In another lifetime, maybe we could have worked. I'm certain that you were always perfect for me, as was what we had. You are magic, Y/N. I just wasn't powerful enough to keep you.
When I finished reading, I flipped the page over, expecting to find more, but it was blank. She'd ended it there and I didn't know what to think. My heart was racing, mind adjusting too slowly for my liking. She'd broke it off with him for me. I knew she loved me, but I guess I'd never realised just how much.
After recovering from my shock, I put the letter away and left for Wanda's, not bothering to tell my family where I was going. My dad was attempting to console my disappointed mother as Y/B/N moped around somewhere else, so I took that as my chance to nip out without them noticing.
I was trying to plan what to say to her – I didn't even know what I wanted to say to her. She said she didn't expect me to get back with her, and even without Y/B/N and their engagement in the way, we still couldn't be together. Not like how we wanted to be. But I wanted to. I wanted her. All this time without her had been heartbreaking – I didn't want to leave her again. I didn't know the specifics of how we would work, but we could work. We had to.
When I reached her house, it was her mother who opened the door. And that's when I realised that I wasn't sure if she blamed Y/B/N or her daughter for the engagement breaking apart.
"Iryna, hi," I greeted with a nervous smile. "I'm sorry if this is a bad time–"
"Y/N, I'm glad you're here," she cut me off, immediately pulling me in for a hug. "Thank you for coming."
I nodded with mild confusion, returning the hug, before pulling away.
"I'm so sorry for the pain Wanda has caused to your family," she said regretfully. "I hope that your parents aren't as distraught as we are."
I eyed her strangely, still not sure what Wanda had told her. Either way, I didn't bother questioning it as my urgency to see Wanda was overpowering my curiosity.
"It's okay, Iryna, there's no need to apologise," I reassured her. "My family will be okay... I just thought I'd come and check in on Wanda. It's a lot, what happened."
She nodded sympathetically. "Thank you, sweetheart. You're such a good friend to her." She stood to the side to let me in. "Go on up. She's in her room. Hasn't come out since this morning."
I offered a small, awkward smile Iryna's way before letting myself in and going upstairs to Wanda's room. My palms were sweaty and my mouth was dry – stupidly juxtaposed – when I stopped before Wanda's door. On the way over here, I still hadn't decided what to say. I figured it would just come to me when I saw her. One could hope.
Knocking on the door, I heard her sweet, accented voice give me permission to enter. My stomach flipped at the sound and I did as she said. Closing the door behind me, I turned and saw Wanda sat at a stool before a canvas.
Noticing I didn't say anything, she glanced over her shoulder casually, probably expecting a family member. She widened her eyes when she realised it was me and immediately stood up, smoothing out her paint-covered smock in an attempt to look neater. The simple action warmed my heart – she was adorable and I couldn't help but smile.
"Hi," I said quietly.
She cleared her throat, eyes darting around nervously. "Hey. I didn't– what are– hi."
I let my eyes wander, admiring her messy ponytail and the strokes of paint on her face that she definitely wasn't aware of. She was stunning, even with her confused eyes and pursed lips. Better yet, her hand was ring-free and I was reminded of the fact that she wasn't engaged anymore.
"I assume you're here because you read the letter," she began apologetically, but I didn't let her finish because the longer I was in her presence, the more I realised I wanted to kiss her.
Approaching her, I found her eyes before pressing my lips to hers. My hands cupped her cheeks as I held her close, revelling in her taste and scent and touch. She was quick to react, her fingers curling around my waist and tugging me towards her, squeezing our bodies together. Breathing became a problem and we regretfully had to pull away, but remained close enough to exchange breaths and swim in each other's eyes. I'd never been more relieved to see the colour green.
"You're not mad," she realised, looking between my eyes as if trying to search for some anger.
"How can I be mad that you broke off your engagement for me, knowing we can never be together in the way that you deserve?" I asked with disbelief.
She smiled beautifully, making my heart flutter in my chest. "You still love me."
I stole another kiss from her lips. "I never stopped, Wanda. Of course I still love you."
She rested her forehead to mine and closed her eyes peacefully. "Thank you for coming back."
I laughed, feeling tears brim my eyes. "I'm not leaving again, love. We'll find a way to make this work. I promise you that."
Wanda Maximoff deserved the world. And I was going to give it to her in this lifetime and beyond.
347 notes · View notes
niskoo · 3 years
Text
Burrito run
pairing: rich kid! Jake x rich kid! reader
genre: fluff, crack, bff2l! AU
warnings: food, swearing, sneaking out (??)
word count: 3k words
a/n: my dumbass posted this on my nct acc omfg
this was originally for haechan of nct for my nct acc (@daegall) but i thought i could treat you guys to hehe
networks: @enhypennetwork
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You had known Jake for more than half of your lives. Thanks to both of your rich ass parents setting you two up for a playdate at the age of 12, now you have found your rock and partner in crime. You know when he's feeling down, when he wants to cause trouble for no reason, when he has an eye for someone, heck, you know when and how to get him out of any situation when needed.
Like right now, as he gives you a side glance as he talks boringly to a group of men. All they talked about was business. Jake wanted to talk about that one burrito place down the block, he wants to get out of there and go get some. He wants to get out of this stupid high class party he has no part of.
He knows you do too, he knows by the way you keep glancing at the back door by the kitchen, and how you occasionally move to each group closer to the door. You know he catches up to the plan, how he also moves from group to group, excusing himself every 2 minutes.
You politely excuse yourself from the many unknown rich aunts who just questioned your love life, giving them a very passive smile, before turning to move to another group.
You don't get to go to another group, because you're already so close to the door, and Jake approaches you.
"Why, hello there, miss Y/n."
You feign shock at his greeting, holding a hand to your chest, "My, Jaeyun, wasn't it? It's been too long!"
Your best friend nods, playing along to the small skit you two have created, "About 2 hours, I think? You've grown very beautifully,"
You flick your hand at him, nudging his shoulder not-so-gently, "Oh stop."
You bite your lip to hold back a loud laugh when Jake winces at your harsh push at his shoulder, watching as his face twists in playful anger. You can't help but thin he looks absolutely adorable, nose scrunched up and eyes narrowed in a non meaningful glare, you ought to kiss his puffed cheeks.
You shake the last thought from your mind, bringing the elegant glass of champagne to your lips, sipping lightly at the sweet and slightly sour liquid. You then take a double check around the spacious room, to see if anyone is watching.
Your mother and father were chatting at the far corner with the parents of Jay, a guy you met earlier this evening. He looked just as bored as you. Jake's parents stood not too far from your parents, greeting anyone who approached them.
This was your chance.
Quickly, as Jake was mumbling something about you growing up strongly as well, you grab his arm. He yelps in surprise, as you drag him through the back door, lightly blushing at your gentle touch at his wrist.
The back door soon slams behind the both of you, and you are met with a large yard.
"Y/n! What if someone caught us?"
Giving Jake a side glare, you start to trudge down the flight of stairs to the garden, "You were too busy complaining about my guns to notice we had a chance to escape. You're welcome."
"You're weak!"
"Am not!"
"Are to!"
You ignore the upcoming argument you could've started, taking off your painful heels. They were absolutely stunning, but stung your feet constantly. Beauty is pain, as mother says.
"Lead the way to the burrito truck you claimed to see on the way here!"
Through the many bushes, and many guards, and even more bushes, you finally make it out the the big mansion, and into the dark streets. It's 10 in the night, you hope the burrito place is still open or your only choice left is a McDonalds about an hour away or convenience store food. Not that you minded, but you haven't had a burrito since you were 18. You had it right after graduation day with one of your closes friends who you have no idea of her whereabouts now.
The last time Jake had a burrito is about last week, the first time he met another rich kid named Sunghoon. Their parents gave them a bunch of money to go spend on expensive and top quality foods, but they both mutually agreed to get cheap burritos that would probably give them a bad stomach.
Jake takes the lead, as expected, for he was the one who spotted the food truck. He took off his blazer some time ago, you don't remember when, but with his jacket thrown over his elbow and sleeves rolled up like that, you can't help but admire.
You notice every single little thing about him, his slow, rhythmic paces, occasionally kicking stray rocks on the sidewalk. You watch as his hair slightly bounces as he kicks yet another rock, and you want to pet his hair.
There was that one time when you were 16 and you had a movie night as your parents went away for some business, he had his head on your lap, you didn't mind for some reason. At some point you had started playing lightly with a few strands of his hair, but you didn't notice. The moment you softly ran your hands through his hair, you realized, and decided to keep your hands to yourself after that. To your surprise he protested against it, claiming it was very comforting. So now every time one of you come over to the other's house, you would somehow find yourself playing with his hair, like pure human instinct.
But now as you observed your best friend more, you have a different feeling running through you as you had an urge to softly play with them once more, as if it wasn't as platonic anymore. But that was absurd. you've been friends for 10 years now, why are you just feeling like this now?
Your heart jumps in your chest when you are suddenly met with Jake's eyes, shining brightly with a slight mischievous gloss glazing over them. "Can we pick up the pace please? I'm getting pretty hungry and I know you are too."
Your heart softens as he sticks his arm out, gesturing you to come next to him. You jog barefoot to his side, instantly looping your arm with his.
It doesn't take long to find the food truck Jake mentioned, just a 10 minutes from the mansion, somewhere near the center of town. You had to drive about 2 hours to get here, and so did Jake, so it's a bit strange how he knew his way around the town so easily. You guess he just is that way.
You practically drool at the smell of savory foods that lingers in the air, sucking the saliva in your mouth.
Your best friend eyes you playfully, nudging your hip with his, "See? What did I tell you? Burrito food truck!"
You don't respond, simply grunting and dragging him to the cashier to order some food.
It takes a lot of time to decide on what burrito you'd buy, there were even tacos, and weirdly, cookies and croissants. It was your dream food truck, really. In the end, you both went for the classic burrito, nothing could beat it.
There were no seats to the food truck, sadly, so you and Jake opted to sit on the curb, legs sprawled out on the road, hopefully no cars drive by.
"You ready?" Your best friend asks you, looking at you with much anticipation. You stare at your own burrito in much more anticipation, it's been 4 years since you had a burrito. You wonder how you could survive that long.
You nod vivaciously, already opening your mouth to take a bite. Jake chuckles as he watches you take your first bite, your cheeks instantly puffing out full of the contents. You shut your eyes in bliss, licking your lips for anything left on them.
As you continue to chew, you shake your head, "Shit, I haven't had anything this good in sooo long." You exaggerate, taking yet another bite of the heavenly treat.
Jake can't agree more, he just had a burrito last week, but somehow eating one with you feels different. Especially when you don't mind him seeing and pointing out the smeared food around your mouth, simply trying to search for it with your tongue instead.
Your best friend wants to cherish this moment forever, keep it deep in his heart and laugh at it in the future when he suddenly gets reminded of it, he wants to brag about it to his friends, maybe even share it with his grandchildren, he doesn't know. All he knows is that you're it for him.
You're the one he's spent all of his teenage years with, his first heartbreak, first sleepover, first drink was with you, heck, you were his first close friend!
You know so much about him, you share so much about yourself to him, he's the one you trust. He's the first person you call out to when you're down, first person you call out to in the best of your times. It amazing how much you've been through together, and Jake thinks anything is possible, as long as it's you.
Falling in love seems so much easier than ever, especially at that moment, eating a burrito instead of the expensive caviar at the party before, just with him. And nobody else.
He wants to make you his. Not just his best friend, his lover, his soul mate, his whole world. Not that you weren't already.
"What's wrong?" you suddenly ask Jake, startling him. "You nudge your chin at the burrito in his hands, "Why aren't you eating?"
Jake flushes, realizing he's been staring at you the whole time, taking a big bite of his burrito, before looking away bashfully. "It's nothing."
You grow suspicious of his actions, watching as he swallows and bites his lip shyly. You choose to leave it there, instead bringing up your parents being out of town next week.
The conversation keeps going, from one topic to the other, swerving all over the place, but that's just how it is, talking to the person you're most comfortable with.
The conversation goes on and on until you find yourself walking along the streets blindly, fiddling with the paper packaging of the burrito you ate. You also find yourself wearing Jake's shoes instead of walking barefoot, he gave to you after you complained about walking over so many rocks, and you didn't like how your heart swarmed and beat dangerously fast as he claimed it would be better if you borrowed them for the night.
Strangely enough, his blazer he took off about and hour ago now stayed on your shoulders, keeping you warm from the cold breezes of the night. All your best friend's actions made you swoon over him, and that wasn't something you would feel often. Maybe occasionally, but not everyday.
Jake doesn't know what got into him when he took his shoes off for you, or when he draped his blazer on your shoulders, or why he took your heels and held it for you. What he does know, is that he enjoys the way your lips purse and a light shade of pink dusted over your cheeks. Or how you pull his blazer tighter around your body and sub-consciously loop your arm around his again.
You two never really got to go through the proper high school experience, your parents forced you to go to a strict school with strict rules, they didn't even have celebrations.
Jake always imagines what it would be like to go to a dance, prom, maybe? Full of fun, dancing, and definitely you. You had a similar vision. Chugging down punch or soda and dancing crazily together until you both get sick and throw up in the bathroom.
Prom was like a mutual yearning for the both of you.
God, how you would kill to have a normal high school experience.
"You know," Jake starts, "this feels like I'm walking you home after prom."
You can't stop the grin from reaching your lips, giving into it and letting out a soft laugh. Softly, you elbow his side, "Corny."
There are a few laughs here and there after that, but overall just comforting silence that goes throughout the night. The crickets that echo throughout the night are your only noises, and the few cars rushing by. You two come to a stop at a random bench by a streetlamp, settling there until you realize it's time to go back to the party.
You realize it, but you just don't want to let go of the moment.
You feel Jake hook his leg under yours, swinging them together in sync as you rest and stare into the night sky. Tonight isn't that much of a pretty night, no stars, barely a moon, but that's alright, you're enjoying the most of it.
You turn your head away from the boring black sky, instead facing the mot interesting thing you find in life. Jake is staring down at your swinging legs, smiling at the sight. He fiddles softly with your fingers, caressing and tracing them as if they were one of the most precious things in the world.
Your eyes trail from your tangled legs, to your tangled hands, all the way up to Jake's face, tracing each and every detail with your gaze. You don't remember when he matured, you only remember the fluffy cheeked bowl cut Jake when you two were still middle schoolers. Now all that cheek has become more defined, especially his jaw, you can't help but admire him. He was like a piece of art. Your favorite piece of art.
For the second time that night, you focus on his hair, and ought to run your hands through them once again. To pull him into your embrace as he rests on you, to simply relax and twirl his strands around your fingers.
It seems like whenever you're staring at his hair, Jake just startles you with his eyes, still glossy, but this time they hold something different.
They admire you just as much as yours admire him.
Slowly, as if an unspoken agreement, you lean in closer to his face. His breath close to your cheek sets goosebumps trailing your body, and his touch now on your neck warms you inside.
Your eyes flit between his eyes and lips, oh those plump, soft lips you dream of. You would never admit it, but you have had many urges to crash your own upon them.
And that's exactly what you do. Though, crash isn't the right word to describe it. They press together softly more than recklessly, pulling into a soft lock, something much more than just platonic love being poured into it. Pure bliss and love are being poured like gentle and calm rivers, the ones you find clear and beautiful in parks. It runs faster as Jake tilts your head to kiss you closer, lips wrapped up in the warmth of yours. It feels like home to him.
Jake is absolutely perfect, you decide, despite all the many nights spent together breaking down, left for each other to pick the other up, it makes him perfect.
He thinks you're the most flawless thing he's ever seen, despite all the gems and crystals he sees in most parties, you're the brightest one shining, he could never find any jewel more valuable than you.
You pull away with one last soft lock of your lips, but stay close and ghost them together. You find his eyes the shining the most you have ever seen in the 10 years you have spent with him, one different emotion fluttering behind them. Love.
You surely don't feel that big of a person when you're at these big rich parties, even if everyone knew of your name. But kissing your best friend and being the one he sees, he loves, being his, you feel like you could rule the world.
You know you're his after this. How could you not? The way he breaks out into a very bashful smile when you leave one last peck on his lips, the way he holds you so close. There was no way he couldn't be yours after this.
A week later you have a very sleepy boyfriend on your couch, his head resting on your lap as you play softly with his hair. Nothing is all that different, except for all the kisses he steals when reaching up to you. And of course, the corny lines being thrown at each other as a competition to see who can come up with the cheesiest, most disgusting pick up line ever.
"I want to wrap you in my arms and make you my baerito."
"Ugh Jake that was just straight but bad! Not even funny or cheesy!"
Jake simply laughs, and wraps his arms around you just as he claimed to have wanted to, mumbling how he agreed into your forehead.
Being in his arms, you feel like you could fight everything that would try to hurt your lover, but for now you stick to the playful pokes he gives to your stomach and sides.
282 notes · View notes
moominnyu · 3 years
Text
bratty maid. [choi chanhee]
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🐇🎀 mature content ahead !! minors don’t interact !!
🧸🎀 — pairings: choi chanhee (the boyz) x gender neutral reader
🧸🎀 — tw: nsfw. handjob. male masturbation. prostate orgasm (lmao). slight dacryphilia. groping, kinda? like once. use of the word master like two times. man in traditionally feminine clothing (??)
🧸🎀 — wc: 5205
“i look so stupid,” chanhee's arms hug his body as if to conceal it from you, blue hair covering his eyes as he looks to the side to avoid your mocking gaze, “and i feel stupid, too,”
you sit on the emerald velvet sofa of your shared apartment, one leg drawn over the other and arms crossed on your chest.  
in front of you, chanhee— his long, slender legs on display by the short, frilly petticoat he sports. he blushes under your intense stare, feeling himself shrink into the ruffled lace maid dress he's wearing. while long sleeved and quite heavy, the material is thin and breathable, so why is he suddenly feeling so hot?
“i didn't ask for your opinion,” you say, dropping your arms to your side as you signal him to turn around, “c’mon, twirl. let me see you,”
“well, i'm giving you my opinion anyway,” nevermind the spite in his voice, chanhee slowly does a full 360 for you, showing off the maid dress you specifically bought for him, “whether you like it or not, because i'm the one wearing this stupid dress,”
“good maids don't talk back to their masters, you know?”
something coils in chanhee's tummy at the mention of master. as if you hold great power over him, he lets his arms fall to his sides with a shaky sigh to allow you proper sight of his appearance. he's so goddamn weak for that stare of yours, to him your words are absolute and he feels so stupidly in love with you that he can't do other than comply to your every whim. that's the reason why he's wearing this dress in the first place.  
when you said he'd look angelic on a maid dress, he scoffed. he pushed your phone away from his face and tried to keep his eyes away from the male model sporting a rather revealing dress in a pastel pink color, thinking that there's no way he would ever wear something like that just because you looked up at him with doe eyes and a cute pout. the idea lingered on his mind, though, it was impossible to shake off; mainly because you began to circulate through maid tiktok, follow maid dress wearing guys on instagram and twitter, and now every add on your shared chrome account were maid or lolita dresses for sale on cosplay stores. chanhee thought he already had his plate full with his members teasing him for his feminine gestures and posing, the least thing he needed was you, his precious partner, also thinking he was effeminate and that that was his only trait. don't get him wrong, he likes to be quite adaptable and likes that he suits both masculine and feminine things, but teasing can get too tiring and people can get too overly curious of his sexuality, as if that concerns anyone but him and you.  
and, for a week, chanhee would push you off him when you would excitedly show him another dress you found online. you've managed to found a nice, legit japanese website with a variation of maid and lolita dresses and made a point to convince chanhee to give in and wear one for you, knowing him well enough to know that he really was lulling over the idea by the fact that he didn't immediately shut you out after your first attempt.
and he truly was considering it. it didn't matter how high he rolled his eyes at you and how much he claimed he wouldn't look good, the idea lingered in the back of his mind despite his futile attempts to brush it off. eventually, he gave up when you showed him a certain dress you found on that very same page: it was simple compared to the others you've shown him, but still lolita-esque. a long sleeve, pure cotton and lace dress with a corset waistband and a petticoat black skirt with white trim that reaches a bit past mid-thigh. the neck is all frilly and has a big, black bow with a fake jewel in the middle. out of all the dresses you've shown him, this was the most normal, decent and totally not vulgar one, and the one he's currently wearing.  
“that's because they get paid,” chanhee retorts. he won't ever let you win an argument, even though it's purely bickering, and even though he practically already succumbed to you by agreeing to wear this dress in the first place, “i'm not getting paid as i should,”
“be a good boy and i'll reward you,” you say, smirking as chanhee's eyes widen for a careless second on his part at the implication behind your words, before they return back to his expression faux annoyance, “plus, you're allowed to change back at any time. i'm not holding you at gun point, you know,”
he rubs his thighs together to release some of the pressure he begins to feel in between them, he even tries to keep his head up so he can pretend to not notice how a small tent begins to form in the delicate skirt as blood begins to flow south. his head begins to spin. he didn't think he'd enjoy it this much; being so exposed to your hungry eyes that trail down his body, imagining you sneaking your hand up his skirt towards that part that's now aching for your touch, hearing you call him a good boy again, kissing him until his lips are all plump from your bites and he's drunk off your scent— hell, he'd even call you his master if that'd mean you'll give him what he wants. he won't ever admit it, and you'd have to pry such confession from his cold, dead hands, but he feels so pretty all dolled up for you, and it gives him such satisfaction to know that he gets to be the one that your eyes drink up with such lust.
“i want to make you happy,” he mumbles, under his breath, but he knows you heard him, otherwise you wouldn't be smiling so wide and accommodating your legs to receive him either in between them or on top, “but this is a one-time occurrence, so don't get too excited,”
“okay, yeah. shut up,” you beckon him closer with your fingers, and chanhee mentally beats himself up when he's a tad bit too fast to comply to you, almost as if he's too eager to do so. and he's not, “let's put the cherry on top, yeah?”
with the mary jane pumps he's wearing, he's a bit taller than usual height, and so, his breath hitches when he walks up to you and his crotch ends up right in front of your face. through hooded eyes, he looks down at you as your hands hover over his thighs, and he swallows a lump of saliva when you pull at the ruffled garter around his thigh, feeling your cold fingers against his hot skin. all his hopes dies when you let go of him and turn to reach the matching ruffle headpiece that rests beside you on the sofa, making chanhee let out a frustrated sigh.
“lean down,” you order him. chanhee leans down so that you reach his head, slouching his back a bit and resting his palms on his thighs, lips pursed and eyes still avoiding yours. if he makes any eye contact with you at this moment, he might give in and beg for your touch, but that's so uncharacteristical of him, and he won't let you have the satisfaction so easily.
you tilt your head and raise an eyebrow at him, “what kind of lean down is that? be more aware of your looks, do it more sexily,”
“what are you, a pervert?” he rolls his eyes at you for the nth time that night, but still complies and tries to stick his butt upwards, push his shoulders back and straighten his back. he blushes when you give him a satisfied smile, and, again, begins to feel hot as your gaze trails down from his eyes to his waist and finally legs, “yeah, you definitely are a per—”
words get caught on his throat when you, finally, once and for all, sneak your hand under the hem of his skirt. he can feel your palm trailing up his thigh, travelling back to cup one of his buttcheeks and pull it apart from the other. chanhee bites the inside of his cheek to let out any unwanted sound when you laugh at the way his cheeks heat up and his eyebrows furrow, “speaking of perverts,” you tease, bringing your hand down and away from where he most wants it, grabbing the headpiece once more, “you're hard already, aren't you?”
“what do you expect?” chanhee pouts, under his breath, “you keep staring at me,”
“people stare at you all the time, chanhee,” you murmur back, fixing his blue bangs with your delicate fingers to try and style it in a 60/40 part, “do you get turned on even then?”
finally locking eyes with you, he licks his lips as he shakes his head, “only when it's you,” he lets you place the headpiece on him and then finally stands back to let you see all of him once more.
you make that same gesture to get him to turn around for you, and, again, he does, like a puppy being trained, obedient because he knows his reward is coming. and he can feel it, taste it even, when you smile and lean back on the sofa, already licking your lips like you're thirsty for a sip of his.
“you really do look angelic,” you say, and he watches with awe and anticipation as you begin to take your rings off your fingers, one by one, with a pace that's so achingly slow he's sure he's gonna melt before you even lay a hand on him, “i wish i could take a picture, i even have a few poses in—”
“absolutely not,” he cuts you off before the idea gets to bloom fully on your little, perverted mind, “you're definitely going to blackmail me with it,”
“or maybe i'll do other fun things with it,” you chuckle, and chanhee, again, falls victim of your suggestive words and only grows more and more flustered thanks to them.  
but there's only so much teasing and intense staring chanhee can handle. by the sufficient look on your face, the know it all smirk and your lack of invitation, he knows things aren't going to work on his favour unless he moves first. you already got the upper hand of the situation, and it's almost painful for him to have to let go of whatever little dignity he still has to get what he wants, but he feels so hot and he's so impatient, he can't wait for your hands to be on him, for your lips to meet his skin, he can't wait to be lost in the pleasure that only you can give him.  
so chanhee, pretty and bratty as only he knows how to be, pouts and looks at you through his eyelashes with frustration, “hurry up and give me my reward already,” he says, trying to keep his tone down because he knows sounding demanding will only work in favor of his already bad predicament, “i've been good,”
“indeed you've been,” you agree, and chanhee lets out he breath he didn't know he was holding, “a bit too sassy, but still good,”
so, finally, you pat your lap as you spread your legs a bit wider. this time, chanhee doesn't notice how he's, again, way too eager to join you back on the sofa. he climbs on top of you, placing each leg at the sides of your lap and his hands on your shoulders, just like he always does. the skirts opens up prettily and he shudders a breath in when he feels how freeing it is to feel his crotch directly on top of your thighs, better than any pants he could ever wear.  
and he's eager once again to meet your lips, letting his mouth agape so that you can lick into it. when you ease your tongue into his mouth and press it against his own, he's already grinding his hips on yours, his breath catching on his throat like his hands that catch the hem of your shirt to pull you closer to him. he's breathless, light headed, already drunk off you and at your mercy.
the moment you part from his lips to catch some needed oxygen, your hand had already undone the pretty bow that sat on the collar of his dress, and now you work to undo the first couple of buttons to gain access to his neck. he looks so delicious, pale yet pink, and it would feel sinful, a crime to litter such perfect skin with bruises if it weren't for the fact that chanhee himself already moves his head to the side to give you access, his hands that cling to your shoulders bring you closer to him in a silent plead.  
the second your lips touch his skin, he's melting into your touch. you have to grap an arm around his waist to ground him, and chanhee uses the chance to grind into your thighs while encouraging you to guide him, another silent plea to get him off.
“my ears,” he mumbles, or moans, one of his hand clutches yours and moves it to his chest to signal you to play with his nipples, “c’mon, kiss me,” and you laugh against his skin, thinking about how adorable is the fact that he, the most reluctant one to try on the stupid maid dress, is now the most eager and desperate one of the two.  
“you're so greedy,” you comply anyway. you like to let chanhee think he's got control over what you do to him, but when his hips buck upwards and he chokes in a moan when you lick along the shell of his ear you know he's playing right into your hands, already stuck in your cobweb of perversion.
his weak spot— his little ear—, has him covering his mouth with one of his hands when the tip of your tongue teases the little hole. his pleasure gets heightened when you pinch one of his nipples through the delicate fabric of the dress. he's immediately dropping his hand from his mouth to place it eagerly on top of yours and guide it to move how he wants it to, and you take the chance to move your lips back onto his.  
as the kiss grows in intensity and chanhee's hips begin to shake more erratically, your other hand that was on his tiny waist move down to his thighs. he feels you trail up the soft, milky skin until they disappear under the skirt again, and his new found fantasy plays in front of his eyes when your hand hover over his member, covered by his underwear, he feels so perverted when he twitches in your ghostly touch and moans at the thought that you're indeed touching him under his skirt and that he's indeed being such a dirty boy getting turned on by it.  
when you finally wrap your fingers around it, over the hem of his underwear, you notice it: the surprise chanhee prepared for you when he changed into the dress. instead of the boxers you were expecting, you're pleasantly surprised to be met with delicate lace instead, thin and soft under your palm, and sweet chanhee bucking his hips up to signal his need for you.
pulling away from him, chanhee notices your eyes glistening with anticipation, “a thong?” you ask, no tact whatsoever, no consideration of the fact that he might pass out from mortification from you mentioning it out loud. you lift up the skirt to properly look, but chanhee pulls it down before you can even catch a glance.  
“it's not a thong, i'm not crass,” he rolls his eyes, both hands pressing down the skirt so that you wouldn't try to lift it again, “they're just regular panties... your panties,”
and he twitches for a second time when your eyes darken and your mouth seems to go dry. it's not the first time chanhee wore panties for you, but it still has such an effect on you that he feels dizzy thinking about the power he, too, has over you, just like you do over him.  
“well, let me see,” you mumble, thumbing at his tip with reanimated energy, “need to confirm you aren't lying,”
“no, you just gotta trust me,” he puts his hand on the back of your neck, shivering as he brings you close to him again with a lustful look, “keep kissing me,”
and luckily you comply to his wishes, but only because you know you'd eventually get to see it properly once he's completely shredded off his inhibitions. you latch your lips around his tongue, sucking on the wet muscle, for now content with feeling the lace around his hips and butt, while your other hand pushes your panties to the side so that you can gain full access to his throbbing member. messy up and down strokes have chanhee parting away from your lips on a jolt, his headpiece almost falling from his head as he drops it to your shoulder, panting heavily as his hips follow the movement of your hand.
up and down, up and down go your strokes, just like his chest and hips, every movement that he does seems to be around the ones you do, always so sensitive and reactive, his body possesses the honesty that his words lack, and he's so weak, melting in this hot desire, clinging onto you like you're a sip of cold water to clench his painful thirst, when you're, in fact, the very same flame that's making his throat dry in the first place. he's throbbing in your palm, heavy and wet, and he sounds heavenly, soft moans meant for your ears only, whispered with both love and lust, and you're sure he looks heavenly too, but he's too busy hiding his face in your neck, already feeling exposed enough to actually come up and look at you in the eyes.  
you paint loving bruises into his neck and jaw as you pull your hand away from him, eliciting a sultry groan in protest from the man on top of you, who comes chasing after your hand, sticky with his transluscent precum, trying to get you to touch him again.  
“shall we lube you up?,” you offer, your hand hovers over his face, teasingly, as you show off your middle and index finger, covered with his sticky substance.  
“yeah,” chanhee breathes out, his mouth immediately opens to receive both of your fingers inside. like a good boy, he cleans them with easy compliance, and you're sure you'd be dead under his mean eyes if you happen to mention how eager he was to taste himself— but you know the feeling, while salty, perfect chanhee manages to taste like sweet syrup at the same time.  
you fumble with the back pockets of your jeans as you search for something.  
it takes you long enough so that chanhee's halfway back to his senses by the time you finally found that thing you were looking for, and, as soon as he recognizes it, his clouded eyes narrow, “did you plan all this from the beginning?” he eyes the small bottle in your hands with a frown as you flick the cap off swiftly.
“pretty much, yeah,” you smile at him, innocently, before placing a soft kiss to his lips, “lift up your skirt,”
“you're a freak,” chanhee shakes his head in disapproval, but he complies to your orders like a good maid, and finally lifts his skirt up so that you can work with him. with his mind preoccupied with his own pleasure, he doesn't realize that he's giving you a full opening to his surprise that was originally only meant to be felt, and not seen, and only notices when he feels your fingers tracing the soft lace. his cheeks grow red and he frowns in frustration, and he hates that he gets so worked up by seeing you glance at him with your mouth agape and your eyes dark, almost as if you're eating him up whole.
when the embarrassment gets too much and he plans to pull his skirt back down, your hand immediately comes to stop him, you're tsking at him while shaking your head, “you look so pretty, though? i don't understand why you wouldn't let me see it,”
“are you kidding?,” he mumbles, his cheeks still tinted a flustered color, “it's embarrassing enough as it is that i felt the need to put it on for you along this stupid dress, you seeing it makes me want to bury myself underground and never come out again,”
“nonsense,” you chuckle at his words, leaving his wrist to drape your hand over his member again, feeling the lace under your sticky palm. chanhee's breath hitches and he leans into your touch despite your annoying smirk, “cyan is definitely your color, actually. maybe i need to buy a couple of pairs for you,”
“eat my ass,” he retorts, his lips purse when he a moan threatens to rip off his lips when you softly take your nail alongside his vein.
“i might will,” again, he purses his lips before he can let out the sigh your words prompt from him, and he looks off to the side as he runs out of witty comebacks, “but first, let's lube you up,”
chanhee's eyes get hooded when he looks down at his member as you pour the cold lube on it. he shudders with every breath, his hands shaking, almost failing to keep his skirt up against his chest, he can see his cock bouncing with every little twitch. as he spreads his legs wider, the lube drips down his balls onto your jeans, prompting a gasp from him.  
“your— your jeans,” he says, and then he looks around, realizing the place you're at, “the sofa—nnh!,”
your hand that grabs his cock again forces every worry and thought on his mind out the window, and he bites his lip to avoid raising his voice at the touch, “we've done worse things in this sofa,” you say, mouthing at his jaw when he throws his head back, “and i can always wash these, don't worry your pretty little head about it,”
your hold gets tighter as it gets faster, and you move your other hand to play with his balls. they're heavy and hot, and chanhee squeals a little when you squeeze one of them with more force than usual.  
still stroking his cock, your other fingers travel down his balls, middle finger slowly circles around his hole, teasing. chanhee feels himself immediately going into a frenzy, lifting his hips so you get more access to his hole, shaking just from your single finger trailing around his little pink rim, already high on his pleasure.
testing it, you slowly press your middle finger into his hole, finding it easy to slide it in, and making chanhee shake on top of you, his face contorting into that of pure pleasure, as he gasps and hangs his tongue out his mouth.  
“ah!,” he gasps, thighs trembling as he slouches over himself at the unexpected amount of sudden pleasure, “yeah! just like that! give me another,”
“already?,” you tease, pumping your finger in and out of him to stretch him out, your other hand leaving his cock to push his hair away from his eyes, “can you take it?”
“yes, i can,” he breathes out, grinding down on your hand greedily, but the stimulation isn't enough for him, “‘ve been good. please,”
“mkay, baby,” you find his lips at the same time a second finger finds his hole, and you greedily swallow every moan that he lets out when his pleasure gets heightened. you pull away from him, and he chases after you with a broken little moan, “you know what to do, right?,” and chanhee nods, immediately closing his eyes to prompt you to kiss him again, moaning into your mouth when you do.  
he hugs his body with one of his arms to hold the skirt up while the other gets a grip of his own member. you let him set his own pace, following it with your fingers that still pump in and out of him. and you smile tenderly at him when drops his forehead on top of yours as he teases himself, slowing down his strokes and palming at his sensitive tip, lustful eyes locked on yours as you slow down your movements as well, trying to match him. he gradually speeds up, his strokes growing sloppy as he loses focus and begins to bounce on your lap, long lashes stained with salty tears and pink lips wet with his own drool.
he babbles something incoherent, tongue out for you to suckle on as you can't reach his covered nipples. you realize that, by this point, he's doing most of the job himself, squirming and shaking, teasing himself and stroking his member in the way you usually do, using your hand for his pleasure.  
you get drunk on the way he looks, a dreamy mess of messy hairs and lewd expression, with tears that roll down his reddened cheeks and trembly lips, bruised by the kisses you've shared but still searching for yours eagerly.  
“‘m close,” you can feel him tremble on top of you, the hold on his skirt gets weaker and the frill falls back on his lap, but it doesn't hinder his stroking for a second, “you have to let me cum,” he presses his forehead to yours and breathes out in your face, saccharine breath smelling of honey and himself.
“good maids don't talk to their master like that,” you use your free hand to lift his skirt once again, your eyes traveling down to his red member, watching the swollen tip disappear and reappear in his fist with each stroke of his palm, precum trailing down his long fingers. you curl your fingers inside of him and he reacts almost violently, the nails of his unoccupied hand digging into your wrist as he shakes and his pretty voice breaks into a high pitched whine.  
“please, master,” finally, he gives in, pitifully and embarrassingly, with cheeks flushed crimson and tears flowing into an all out cry. there's still traces of love in your eyes when you drink his reactions with possessiveness, and even in your sinful, perverted state of mind you feel heavenly blessed to be able to see him like this, completely drunken off pleasure and fucked out of his mind, “please, forgive me, master, i just— i need to cum,”
and normally you would press further into it, tease chanhee and make him beg for it to make up all those other times when he's been too bratty and sassy, to show him who holds the upper hand, who's the one in charge of who— but right now, that thought doesn't even cross your mind, you're way too enamoured by him at this moment, by your pretty choi chanhee who's crying diamond tears of pleasure, your perfect choi chanhee who's edged himself so much he trembles even at the mere feeling of your breath on him, your baby chanhee, all dolled up with his little dress and black pumps, who's eyes flutter firmly closed as he frowns at your lack of a quick answer.
“please—,” he hiccups, cutting himself off unintentionally.  
“go on, baby,” you coo, voice so mellow that chanhee melts further on top of you, “let it go,”
his breath stutters alongside his high pitched whines, his hips move upwards, uncoordinated and unintended, as he jerks hard in your lap, grinding desperately into your hand. you help him through his orgasm, curling and scissoring your fingers and using your other hand to replace his, that was clumsily trying to rub his cock out. his eyes widen when he feels it wash over him, the overwhelming amount of sinful, golden pleasure, but he does his best to follow your rule of eye contact even during his intense orgasm, that has hot spurts of white, sticky liquid squirting from his swollen cock and splashing on his pretty face and both of your chests.
he lets out a pornographic moan as he spams hard on top of you, his thighs trembling and eyes rolling at the back of his head. you help him ride it out with languid strokes and soft pumps of your fingers, watching in first class seat how sinful your usually angelic looking boyfriend looks all fucked out, with his pupils blown wide and his lips bitten raw, his own cum staining his delicate face a depraved color, thick globes that fall from his long eyelashes to his soft cheeks.  
when he comes down, he can barely think properly, let alone speak. he falls limp on top of you, head on your shoulder and arms dead at his sides, breath heavy and ragged. he shuts his eyes and whimpers a final time when he feels your hand sneak on his waist.
“see? that wasn't so bad, was it?,” you tease, chanhee still a weak tremor under your touch, “that was such a prostate orgasm, probably the most intense one you've had,” you make a small pause, one of your hands caresses his back, and then moves upwards to stroke his soft hair after taking out the already halfway fallen headpiece, “did you secretly enjoy dressing up? you can tell me, i won't tell anyone,”
you know he knows you're teasing him, you can tell by the way he whines in annoyance and slowly lifts his head from your shoulder. using this opportunity to wipe his face clean with his own skirt, you smile at him innocently when he narrows his eyes at you with spite.
“i didn't,” now with a clean face and a less clouded mind, chanhee blushes and shakes his head with a pout. again, he'd be caught dead before he'd admit it out loud, “it's just been a while since last time, i was sensitive,”
“mmh, yeah, sure,” and he sighs dreamily when you kiss his cheek, salty with a mixture of now wiped tears and cum, and then melts into your touch again when you trail your kisses down his jaw and neck, his hands already clinging to your shoulders, “should we clean you up?”
his eyes widen at your question, and he's quick as lightning to shake his head and bring you closer to him almost as desperately as he did before, hands blindly fishing for yours to place them on his waist.  
“no,” he says, and now he doesn't care how eager or desperate he sounds, “aren't you going to fuck me in this dress? been waiting all night for it,”
“if that's what my sweet baby wants, then yeah.”
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🧸🎀 — luna's notes: this was supposed to be a cute, short timestamp but i am a sucker for men in dresses and choi chanhee and this ended up being super long so sorry lmao. also i had to look up how high can semen go to confirm it could land on his face if he was at the right angle (apparently it can go past 8ft and travel 45kms an hour, you're welcome) but anyways enjoy this mess i wrote in like three hours, i hope the mental image of chanhee in a maid dress lives rent free on yalls minds like it does in mine. xoxo.  
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folkloreguk · 3 years
Text
an angel for a demon (3)
A/N: Here's the last part of this small series! You don't necessarily need to read all of them to understand this one, but it does probably make more sense if you do. As always, feedback is deeply appreciated! Have a good day x
genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), demon!bias, angel!reader, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), reader gives her first bj
words: ~ 6.7 k
PART1 (M)
PART2 (M)
“I’m going out to pick up some food and stuff, do you want to come along?” you heard him ask. You had your legs up against the wall, your back on the bed, and a magazine in your hands. The women on the pages had you gushing, on the verge of hypnotization. You swore if you looked at those infatuating pictures one minute longer, you’d be swallowed whole by them.
When you had worked your way through some science books and were still hungry for more to read, H/N had brought you some magazines, mostly about fashion but also gossip and lifestyle tips. Turns out letting a clueless angel read about what’s supposed to be good for women was not a smart idea. Up in the clouds, from where you used to watch earth’s women, they had all looked equal to you – beautiful, intelligent, and capable. Now, down in the reality of it all, things appeared much more complicated. Which angel could have known it took diets, workout routines, anti-aging creams and the perfect outfit for your body type to be viewed the same way you had always looked at women from above? And most importantly, how did any woman manage to uphold all these expectations the magazines named? It was all too much and seemingly impossible. Abruptly, you were pulled out of your train of thoughts.
“Y/N? Did you hear me?” he asked, peaking his head through the door. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry,” you said, putting down the magazine on your chest. “No, I’d like to stay here.”
“Alright,” he said, “Would you like me to bring you anything from the store?”
He walked over to you and sat on the bed. His hands softly brushed over your hair, down your cheek and neck, barely touching your collarbones. He was in his black, intimidating clothes, per usual, but his eyes held nothing but fondness for you.
“Actually, maybe there is something,” you said. “Look.”
You picked up the magazine and pointed at the page.
“Can you buy me a dress like this one? They say it would fit me best. And could you get some makeup for me? I don’t know much about it, but maybe you-“ you said. Usually, he was one to listen carefully to every of your words, as if you were the most interesting person he had ever met. This time, he interrupted you.
“Stop. Where is this coming from?” he asked. “I want you to forget all those things you’ve read in those magazines, okay?”
You were confused, thinking you were learning by reading those articles. Gently, he caressed your face. “You know I’ll buy you anything in the world, right? But only if that’s what youwant. Everything they tell you to do, everything they tell you to buy, it’s brainwashing. You will wear whatever dress you find pretty, and if you want to wear makeup, that’s fine. But you will only do those things if you want to do them, okay? There’s nothing you need to change about yourself.”
“But they say you need to start early to get a nice body, and to prevent aging,” you said. “They say men will admire me.”
“We’re immortal, my angel,” he said. “And even if we weren’t, what’s wrong with growing old? Wouldn’t you want the traces of your experiences to be visible on your skin? Those companies, they all just want your money and so they try to scare you into believing you’re not good enough. But truth is, you always are. All those times people tug on their skin in front of a mirror, or whenever they break a sweat trying to lose weight, or when they compare themselves to those who look different from them – they’re already good enough. They’re perfect. This worlds wants you to never be at peace with who you are. But you need to promise me you won’t succumb to those nonsensical tactics to make you hate yourself. And don’t you ever wait for a man to give you approval. That’s your job and your job only.”
You listened, wide-eyed and intrigued. No magazine could ever speak so honestly, and you believed every word he said. After all, you trusted him much more than some random author of an article that was trying to sell you the latest weight loss-magic-powder.
“Okay, I promise.” You sat up and leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’ve never even really thought about it, but I think I’m pretty.”
“Not thinking about it might just be the best way to go about it in this world,” he said, and placed a kiss on your forehead. The feeling of warmth lingered on your skin seconds after he had already pulled away.
“I change my mind, then,” you said, “Do you think you can get me a dress like this?”
You showed him a different picture this time. It showed a lot more skin than the one you had pointed out before. You only realized this when he was already smirking at your choice.
“I’ll see what I can find,” he said. “That’s an interesting option, angel.”
“Hey! I just like the color, alright?” you defended yourself, making him chuckle. Over the course of four weeks, you had come to know his insinuations and his little jokes better. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the incredible sensation his eyes on you gave you. When he goggled at you because you had decided to wear his shirt for a day, or the way he watched you welcome him with open arms when he came home.
You now understood that certain words or actions, or even just an article of clothing – or lack thereof – could conjure an insatiable hunger in his eyes. At first, it was a little scary, having a demon stare you down as if he wanted to eat you up. But now that you knew what his hands felt like on your skin, and that his lips were made for much gentler actions than to hurt you, you wanted nothing more than to coax the starving demon into playing with you, any chance you got. And perhaps that dress in the catalogue would do just that, and not only bring you joy. It was a win-win, really.
“I’ll be back in the afternoon,” he said. “Don’t miss me too much.”
“You know I always do,” you said.
“I’ll give you all the missed attention when I get home, alright?” he said, bending down to your ear. “You can have whatever you want, then.”
To be honest, half of the time you didn’t know what you wanted him to do. But with every time his hands explored your body you learned more. There were so many things humans did to make each other feel good, you doubted you’d ever be able to try everything. His promise made you wish he was already back home when he had barely stepped out of the door. One last grin and nod and he left you alone.
What did angels do on a Saturday noon? Usually, you’d be patrolling your village, entertaining yourself by watching children play tag, admiring lovers walking hand in hand or discovering a family that had just adopted a small animal. Their human eyes shined when they felt happiness, and it was infectious to you. You wanted to send your blessing to all of them, make sure they never felt anything but delight, but you knew that wasn’t how business worked down there. Some things were even out of your control. Now, on earth, you were ready to take whichever hardships were to come if it meant you could have been with your demon lover.
You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You had only gotten up an hour ago. Last night, you had been kept awake for long. He was untiring when he was between your legs. You had learned that he didn’t need nearly as much sleep as you did, and when he set his mind to making you come by his administrations, he didn’t waver to do so. But losing sleep in exchange for pleasure was okay with you. Time became meaningless, either way, when you had your face buried in a pillow, tears threatening to spill over from how good he made you feel. Sometimes he made you come while sitting in his lap, then you’d cling to him like a baby and muffle your whimpers by pressing your lips against the skin of his shoulder. He loved telling you ‘Look at me’ right when you were falling. It was hard to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head or not to collapse in his arms, but for him you would try your best. Often you found your thoughts lingering on the memory of his gaze when you came apart under his touch. It had something of fascination and protectiveness, and you’d never get enough of it.
Great, now you wanted him again. And he wasn’t here. How had you gotten this way? On occasion you wondered if one of the other angels had already spotted you and the sins you were committing. You wouldn’t call them sins now, or ever again. It wasn’t like you wanted to adapt to a demon lifestyle. But you felt at home for the first time, here on earth. It was the perfect grey zone between heaven and hell.
As an attempt to appease your needy mind, you picked up your magazine again. Just because you shouldn’t believe everything they said didn’t mean you shouldn’t have read it at all, right? You flipped through articles on fitness and the newest fashion, but after skimming the pages for only a few seconds, you were done with those tips. He wanted you because of who you were – an angel – and you doubted than any beauty routine could make him more obsessed with you than he already was. But then you read something most curious to your angel eyes. ‘How to make him feel best – tips from a porn star’ the title said. Whatever in the heaven a porn star was, they seemed to be some sort of expert on pleasuring men, and you, always eager to learn something new, were intrigued from the very first word.
But soon you had to admit, you weren’t at all sure what they were referring to with those words and actions. When you and your demon boyfriend had sex, he usually did most of the work, while you took whatever teasing or pleasure he inflicted on you. He had said he liked it this way, but now you weren’t so sure. Or was this ‘10 things to do become a blowjob-pro’ – list just another attempt of society to brainwash women? You weren’t one to initiate talk about sexual stuff, but maybe you’d try to question him on the meaning of what you had read.
You flipped another page and finally you had arrived at a page you could work with. It was a bunch of comfort food recipes. Right away you fell in love with the picture of the freshly baked cinnamon rolls in the top right corner. H/N had promised you to teach you how to cook, but so far you hadn’t made much progress. The difficulty level read beginner, and five minutes later you stood in the kitchen. With some music in the background your enthusiasm only sparked more. Baking was new and came with slight overwhelmingness and the stress of making sure you weren’t forgetting to add any ingredient. But the Christmassy scent of cinnamon and the feeling of making something from scratch made you happy, and with rapt attention you finished your first completed recipe ever.
You wiped some flour off your forehead. Hopefully H/N would like the cinnamon rolls too, because as tasty you found your creation, there was no way you were able to devour them all by yourself. As if on cue, you suddenly heard the key slide into the lock of the front door. Probably prompted by the heavenly scent, he called your name.
“Here,” you answered, mouth full of a bite of cinnamon roll. When he walked in, he already had his famous smirk on his face. It was your favorite. You knew it was reserved only for you.
“What did you make?” he asked. But he had his answer when he saw the baked goods in front of you. He set down the bags and put his arms on your waist from behind. With a hum, you lifted the cinnamon roll to his lips, and he took a bite. He almost moaned at the taste and you grinned.
“Do you like them?” you asked, already knowing the answer but still awaiting more praise. You squealed a little at how quickly he spun you around. His nose touched yours and your heartbeat raced.
“It’s like they came with you straight from heaven,” he said. “Hmm…I missed my angel.”
His lips when he kissed you tasted like sugar and spice and you melted straight into his touch. You only noticed he had run his finger over the gooey leftover icing when it was already too late. He was a demon after all. And if demons were good at one thing, it was causing mischief.
“Hey,” you protested at his hands on your neck. Then your reaction quickly altered as his finger slid lower, down to your collar bones and to where your low-cut shirt started. “Great, now I’m all sticky.”
You didn’t understand at first that messing with you wasn’t his full intention. But he tilted his head to the side and ran his hot tongue over the icing on your skin, and you gasped suddenly. This wasn’t just a joke. He wanted you. He made a humming noise, as if the sweetness combined with your own taste were only complimenting each other. When he pulled down the neckline of your shirt a little, so he could have every last drop of the sugary substance on your skin, you couldn’t help but whimper. You wanted so desperately for him to do it again, that you thought about sticking your own fingers into the bowl of icing and smearing it on your chest. His eyes were playful when he looked up at your reaction.
“Oh no. If you’re all sticky I guess you’ll need a shower, will you?” he said, “What a coincidence. I was thinking of taking one, just now.”
You had never taken a shower with him, or anyone, for that matter. But you had a feeling that the both of you wouldn’t be keeping to yourself, standing naked in front of each other. You didn’t mind. And you guessed your approval was written on your face, because he pulled you in and kissed you hard. Again, you remembered the article you had read. Was now a good time to ask him about it?
While you were contemplating, his tongue slid over your bottom lip and met yours. You had been too shy to ask before, but now you were speechless. Gently, he grabbed your hand and led you out of the kitchen and into the hallway. You were a mess of lips and tongues and hands and feet stumbling over each other. Every few meters you stopped to push yourself close against him. It was like a game of who could go without kissing each other for longer. And you were both lousy at it.
He loved pushing you up against the wall, trapping you between his arms on each side of your head. This way, he could brush up against your shaking body and you had nowhere left to go. Needless to say, you had no intentions of getting away, no matter what. He knocked the breath out of your lungs, and you kissed him back like you could breathe him in instead. As if he had become your new source of oxygen, or whatever it was you really needed to survive. It these moments, air seemed like a subsidiary matter. So long as you had his hot tongue licking down your neck and his busy hands on your ass under your dress, nothing else truly mattered.
Your kisses were open-mouthed and far more confident than they had been only weeks ago. You now knew how much he liked when you grabbed his hair tightly, or when you whispered his name against his devouring lips, as if it was the only word you had ever been taught. Like it was the only word you ever wanted to know. Before you had even made it to the bathroom, half of your clothes were scattered somewhere along the way.
“I can’t believe I just had you yesterday and here I am already missing you this much again,” he mumbled against your earlobe, teeth playing with your soft skin. “You really are otherworldly. There’s no other explanation.”
His words made you feel proud. The pleasure was one thing you had come to love quickly, but then you noticed the power you could have over him, by merely existing. It was almost unbelievable, but there he was, hard and needing you, day by day. Again, your mind wandered off to the magazine article.
“Can I ask you something?” Your voice must had been different from your usual timid tone when you were in the middle of something unholy.
“Anything, angel,” he said. He let his lips linger on your cheek, half an inch from your mouth, and your stomach twisted in how badly you wanted him to sip on your lips like he was starving.
“Do you like always doing everything when we- ,“ you said. He gave you a puzzled expression, so you tried to explain yourself better. “I mean, if you ever want me to do more, you can ask me to. I don’t know everything yet, but I can learn.”
You weren’t even sure if you understood what the heaven you had just stammered. His look reminded you of the one he had when you asked him to buy him the dress and the makeup that morning.
“I love what we have, little angel,” he said, “What’s making you think you need to do anything differently?”
How were you supposed to explain what you had read when you hadn’t even properly grasped it yourself? You opted for taking his hand and walking him to the bedroom. There the magazine still lay, like an ancient cursed book you weren’t sure you wanted to know front to back. You picked it up and quickly handed him the article. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you opted to take a seat on the edge of the bed.
His lips curled into a devilish grin upon eyeing the page, and you thought the ground might swallow you whole. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all and spared yourself the embarrassment. But at the same time, you were eager to know.
“I thought I told you, magazines are just trying to make you doubt yourself,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“I know, but if there’s anything I can do to make you feel as good as you make me feel, I want to do it,” you confessed. He bent down, cupping your face.
“No one’s ever felt as good to me as you have, angel,” he said, “You’re heaven to me. Do you understand that?”
With your mouth squished together slightly, you nodded your head that was in his hands.
“By the devil, you’re so adorable,” he said. “If you really want to know, though, I’ll show you.”
Even more eagerly, you nodded again. He chuckled. You couldn’t handle how handsome he was – all messy hair, bare chest and black eyes that made you dream of the most unholy things possible.
“You remember how I kiss you…down there?” he asked. You hummed, cheeks on fire. “And how I’ve asked you to put your hands on my cock before?”
You did. But it had been brief, only a few pumps and small touches, until he had become too needy. You had been whining so deliciously for him to fuck you and so he had to have you on the spot.
“In the way you touched me then…you could use your mouth on me. Make me come with your perfect lips and sweet hands,” he said. “If that’s what you want, too.”
“I do!” you said with enthusiasm that only an angel at the feasibility of making someone’s day could bring on. “Let’s postpone that shower.”
The pride in his eyes lasted for approximately two seconds before the raw hunger replaced it. He climbed onto the bed and pat his thighs. On command, you settled on his lap. The simple feeling of his bulge under your center, even if interrupted by some fabric, made your head dizzy and your stomach drop. You kneaded your hands, not sure where to touch him first. But just as he always did to you, you had the impulse to start by his head and go lower from there. Although you were on top of him, he looked amused at your shy eyes.
“Can I kiss your neck, like you always kiss mine?” you asked.
“Be my guest,” he said, grinning like he had just won the lottery. Your lips met his skin and you used your tongue the way you had felt him do it. His scent was intoxicating. It made the empty bedsheets you breathed in sometimes, when he left in the middle of the night for his demon antics, seem like nothing. You used your hands to stabilize yourself as you moved lower. The hiss he let out when you felt up on his abs and waistline almost scared you. Then you realized it was a good sign. Only for the blink of an eye you dared to graze your teeth on his skin. His reaction was immediate.
“Shit,” he cussed, “That’s my angel.”
So, he liked that. You couldn’t wait to tease him by biting him in the future. Provoking a demon would have sounded like something close to a death wish to you, had you thought about it months ago. Now, with a demon as tame as they come beneath you, the thought only excited you. As he liked to do, you touched him through his boxers while you continued your journey down his chest and stomach. The guttural moan he released made your head spin and you never wanted him to be quiet. Usually, you weren’t in a mind state to notice his groans, or your own noises were covering his.
“You’re doing so good, little angel,” he said, short of breath. Once again, your effect on him surprised you. Where was the intimidating, big bad demon you had been taunted by?
“I’m gonna fuck you so well for this,” he said, “Even the angels in heaven will hear you scream. Wouldn’t you like that?”
There he was. You pressed your legs together at the simple mention of him inside of you, but if he thought you were going to answer, he’d be waiting endlessly. You still had enough respect for your angels not to think of them in this moment. Nonetheless you hummed weakly. When you got to his hipbone, you hesitated. You drowned out your doubts by kissing him there, while you contemplated what to do next. Your hand was still wrapped around his clothed cock. It was rock hard, and a wet spot had formed on the fabric from how much he needed you. When your touch became softer, and you pulled your hands away slowly, he lifted his hips, not wanting you to stop. You supposed this was the part where you took off his boxers. At least he didn’t complain when you pulled them off his legs, so you assumed you were still on the right track.
Watching his face for signs of approval, your hand wrapped around his length. He almost seemed electrified at your touch. His jaw dropped slightly, and his hooded eyes somehow appeared even darker than usual.
“Just like that,” he said, “And now move your hand up and down.”
So you did. As you regarded your hand around his shaft, all you could think about was how it used to be. How did your hands, that were usually folded neatly in your lap while you looked down on earth, end up doing such ungodly things? And how come you didn’t even for a second feel guilty?
“Angel, you’re so good to me,” he moaned. Angel. That’s what he loved to emphasize. But was that what you were, still? Maybe you would simply stop putting yourself in a box. Perhaps you were just you, doing what you felt was right and would make you happy. And right now, having a demon clench his fists in your hair and saying your name in that tone, you couldn’t think of a lot of incidents that had made you happier. Was this the part where you should use your mouth? You weren’t sure, but your eyes jumped from his cock to his face and it caught his eyes.
“You can take me in your mouth if you want. If you ever feel like stopping, just do so,” he encouraged you, “But remember, no teeth there, okay?”
You grinned and nodded. You parted your lips and your tongue placed kitten licks on the underside of his member. When you reached the top, you took him between your lips, mirroring the motion of your hands around him. You were surprised at how comfortable you were, when ten minutes ago you were ready to personally descend to hell from embarrassment. There was something enticing about the power you possessed in that moment. You understood humans just a little better, once again. Knowing that the way he bucked his hips and his groans were caused by you and only you had you smiling inwardly. It was a way you had never caught yourself smile before. You felt brave, and like you could do anything, with a demon so at your pity.
It didn’t take long for you to figure out where he was most sensitive. Whenever you pressed your tongue against the tip of his cock, he let out a sigh. It was almost like relief, as if he had been waiting for you all his life. And now here you were, granting him all his wishes. You bobbed your head, but kept your attention on his sweet spot, his moans just too delightful not to evoke them on purpose.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he said. Often, you looked up at him. His lids fluttered from the pleasure, but he seemed to like it when you made eye contact. For a moment, you lifted your head, needing some air. Gently, he caressed your face, like you were made of precious porcelain.
“Which one of my dreams did you escape from, little angel?” he asked. You smiled sheepishly, lowering your head. Again, you wrapped your lips around his length. You wondered what he was thinking about. Was his mind as free from any worries as yours whenever he fucked you? Was he able to form any coherent thoughts or was his brain going into the same mental blackout you always experienced?
You continued the way you had, sucking the tip of his cock while your hand pumped him. From time to time, you took a breather and pulled away. Little did you know what you were doing to him. With the short intervals of your lips on him and the pauses in between, you unknowingly made everything more intense for him. It was a dangerous game of edging him you were playing, and you were outright unaware of it.
But why would he have complained? In that moment, you were his personal guardian angel, making sure all his needs were fulfilled. When he saw your lips, all red and puffy, he asked himself where you had been hiding all this time. You peeked up at him through your angel eyes and he felt his entire world become whole in front of him. He was completely and absolutely at your mercy, inebriated by your entire being. Never in his long time on earth had he seen someone so ravishingly beautiful, yet so unaware of their might. He swore to himself in that moment, he’d do anything to make you love him forever.
As divinely as you were treating him, he suddenly wanted you in a different way. And if you continued your sweet actions, he wasn’t sure if that would still be possible. He gently cupped your head, making you look up. You hummed in question.
“You’re doing so well,” he said, “Let me give back to you, won’t you? Does my angel want some attention, too?”
You would have been lying if you said you weren’t practically touch-starved at this moment. And having been taught to always be truthful, you nodded before you even knew it.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, “Why don’t you take off the rest of your clothes?”
When you got up to slip out of your dress, your legs were weak. You hadn’t even done anything, and yet your body felt heavy. All you wanted was to go back to him and have him so close, it felt like he could have been a part of you. As much as you had felt on top of the world minutes ago, his hungry eyes made you shrink inwardly. But it wasn’t out of fear. It was almost admiration, or rather anticipation. You knew he knew your body inside out, and you couldn’t wait for him to prove it to you.
“Come here, angel,” he said. You climbed back onto the bed. “Turn around for me, okay?”
You were on your knees, sitting up right, facing the headboard. His breath on your shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. Then his hands snaked around your body from behind you. A small whimper left your lips when he ran them down your chest, fingers drawing small shapes on your breasts. They continued their way down your stomach and to your parted thighs. The cold air was hitting your dripping core, and had you not had enough self-control, you would have moaned at the mere sensation of his fingertips on the inside of your thigh. But maybe that was just what he was waiting for. After all, he was still taking his time with you. But in this instance, you knew what you wanted, and more importantly when you wanted it.
“Please,” you said. You weren’t sure what to say but starting with a ‘please’ was never a mistake.
“Please what?” he asked. You couldn’t see his face, yet you knew his devilish grin that must’ve been plastered on his face. He never missed a chance to make you shy. “Is this what you want?”
He slid two of his fingers down your slit slowly. It would forever be a mystery to you, how such a simple touch could put you in such a mental state of disarray. You whined at how needy you were, fighting the urge to press your legs together. In a second, his fingers were coated in your juices. When he pressed them against your opening, but didn’t push any further, your head spun with frustration. An impulse yelled at you to grab his hand and show him how you wanted him, but you sensed there was a specific aim in his teasing. Above that, you weren’t close to that brave. Purposely lightly, he rubbed circles onto your clit. Your head fell back onto his shoulder and your breaths came out in little, desperate noises.
Before meeting him, you never knew this sort of inability to control your body. Having power over your motions was an obviousness to you. But as with so many things in life, you had been wrong. Or rather, you had not known better. Now, with his lips brushing over the side of your exposed neck, you were willing to let him do whatever he wanted to do to you. If there was a noise or reaction he wanted to coax out of you, he could do so. And if evoking your little melodic whimper was his aim, he was on the right path, fingers teasing your pussy and flicking over your clit. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. In fact, he had a head so full of ideas of things you could do together, you doubted you’d ever start to get bored here.
“I want you…inside of me,” you said, surprising yourself. This was your desperate body taking control of your motor speech center, that little region in your brain that allowed you to let out what you wanted to say. Your cheeks were hot for only a moment, then you realized if it got you what you wanted so badly, speaking your mind was probably a fantastic idea. You should really do it more in the future, you thought.
“What my angel wants, my angel gets,” he said. Just for a few seconds, he moved his fingers much faster. You yelped at the sudden pleasure, your hand wrapping around his wrist. His other hand reached for your hand, softly taking it away as you became a whimpering puddle in his arms. You were ready to fall, give in to the pleasure and let go. It was what you so desperately wanted. But as quickly as it had begun, he removed his hands. His attention was gone, and you were left yearning for more.
“Lift your hips,” he said, softly touching your sides. A part of you wanted to cry out, hold him responsible for denying you your sweet release. But you knew it would be no use, and he would tell you to wait either way. You were still on your knees, but straightened up, arms hanging by your sides, waiting for his touch. He was right behind you, his upper body against yours. When you felt his cock run over your slick folds, you sighed at the awaited sensation. The stretch when he filled you up felt so perfect, so out of this world, you reached for his hand to hold on to.
“Why didn’t you ask me earlier if you wanted me so bad?” he asked. He squeezed your hand as his other pulled you flush against his back while he pushed himself further into you. He’d thrust against you for a while, only to pull out completely, and repeat the whole process. It was sending you into complete overdrive.
“Because I wanted to make you feel good,” you said. “Only you, for once.”
You moaned when he snapped his hips against your ass, picking up the pace. In an attempt to support your jittery legs, you grabbed the headboard in front of you. Your breathing came out in short huffs, uneven and a little shaky.
“You’re so sweet and selfless…my patient angel,” he said, his fingers coming in contact with your clit again. His touch was an allure to you, and you wished you could have stayed this way forever. No thoughts, just his body and his dark voice to sedate your mind. “I’ll give you anything you want. You know that, right?”
You hummed and nodded. “Yes. And I’ll do the same for you.” Your words were interrupted by your small whimpers. There had been a time you didn’t know what it felt like, when you didn’t even know there was a such thing of having someone inside of you. Now you couldn’t get enough of him. You were already so sensitive that every time he quickened his thrusts and moved his fingers on you slightly faster, he had you hanging right over the edge. And he could tell by the way you held your breath when you were close. He didn’t want you going there just yet.
“As much as I love your mouth around my dick, this is my favorite way of having you,” he said. He used both of his hands to dig into your sides, pulling your hips closer to him every time he dragged his cock through your walls. You agreed. Should any of your angels ever catch wind of this, they would ban you to earth – or worse, send you to hell. So be it, you thought. You’d be like your lover. One of the creatures of the darkness, thought to be the personification of sin. Even if they ripped your angel title from you, they could never steal away what you had now.
Yes, you were meddling with a demon, but also having the time of your life. It was vastly better than spending your days judging humans for being themselves and for humans living the true way they want to live, instead of abstaining from the simple pleasures of life. Their true colors shown, they weren’t harming anybody, but rather making the world a more acceptable and open-minded place. You aspired to be like them.
“This is my kind of heaven,” he said. It’s what he always called you. Heaven. He groaned when you clenched your walls around him, your inevitable high drawing closer.
“This is my new heaven…you are,” you replied. He chuckled darkly, probably relishing in your confession. The thought that he could make an angel reject the very place they should have belonged filled him with a sense of superiority.
“Look how well you’re taking me,” he said. His hand wrapped around your body, pulling you tighter. He slipped his hand between your legs again, and you almost felt like collapsing, had he not held on to you. On instinct, you closed your eyes and let the feeling crash over you.
“Let me see you come, little angel,” he spoke in your ear, just for you to hear. You would do anything for him. You quivered and buckled at the severity of the feeling, but he had you. Your moans were high and dragged out, as his digits pressed harder onto the sensitive nub on your center.
“Take just a little more for me, can you?” he asked. You obliged willingly, nodding your head while it was still full of nothingness. Even as he kept fucking you, it was pure bliss for another while. It made your legs shake a little, but you felt so safe there, in his embrace, the sensitivity was alright to handle. You could tell by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming that he was almost there, too. He was pressing you against his chest as if you were all he ever wanted. His moans sounded like home to you as he came. He said your name and bent forward, reaching for the headboard, but you both tumbled into the bedsheets together instead. You giggled at your shared clumsiness and you could feel his chest move from laughing as he was lying on top of your back.
“Fuck, that was amazing,” he said, “You’re amazing.”
You turned your head and his lips brushed along your temple, kissing you softly. He brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes so you could look at him. Seeing his beautiful face had you falling into an even deeper state of serenity.
“I want to cuddle,” he said, and it was probably the sweetest thing you had ever heard a demon say. As he rolled off you, you followed his movements and settled in his embrace. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your skin, but neither of you cared enough to get up just yet.
“I love what you’ve done to me,” you said.
“What is it I have I done to you?” he asked, fingers drawing nonsensical patterns on the side of your bare hips.
“You changed me. But not in a bad way. You let me be who I want to be and showed me that that’s okay,” you said, “You made me understand. Some sins aren’t that sinful at all.”
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obey-only-me · 3 years
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The Brothers and Diavolo’s First Kiss with MC By: Akuzondelivery
Lucifer
- You had stayed behind to help clean up after the student council. Lucifer stayed as well to walk you home.
- On the way out you dropped some of the folders and documents from today’s meeting.
- “I’ll help, you’ve already done so much. Thank you MC.” Those eyes and that smirk looked up to you.
- You suddenly felt how close you were to him and stiffened.
- It was Lucifer who was so good at reading you, he noticed your tensed demeanor.
- “What’s wrong?” His gloved fingers reached to tuck a strand of hair away from your face. Though you were trying to hide it at the moment.
- “No, nothing’s wrong. Ready to go?”
- You hurriedly placed the stray papers away and turned to a looming gaze.
- “Oh-!” Lucifer gently lifted your chin and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. Something he’d done to tease you in the past.
- He pulled away with a smirk, fully intending to stop there but something just clicked.
- He eased forward again to ensnare your lips in his. You let your impulses get the best of you as you kissed back, bracing yourself against his chest.
- Breaking for a moment his crimson eyes focused solely on you
- “I...lets continue this in my room.”
Mammon
- You sat together on the floor of your room while watching a drama.
- He had spent some time during the episode play on his DDD.
- “Hey! MC! Check it out, I’m on the new ad for that last shoot I did!”
- A lot of attractive female and male demons wore formal wear mixed with sportswear.
- And there dead center was Mammon looking as gorgeous as ever. For some reason you felt a rush of heat run to your face.
- “H-hey, what’s with that look?” Shit he noticed right away.
- Instinctively you covered your face with your hands to hide. “Don’t look dummy!”
- You hear him come closer, laughing like an asshole.
- “Oh so MC can’t be charmed by Asmo but by the Great Mammon?”
- You feel his hands on your wrists as he gently placed a kiss on your forehead.
- “C’mon, let me see your face. I want to enjoy this moment!”
- You lower your hands with a frustrated pout, face red like a cherry.
- “Aw don’t pout at-“
- You cut him off with a lip crashing kiss, leaning into him with a little more enthusiasm than you expected.
- There was a long pause after as you both stared at each other’s redden expressions of surprise.
- “You...you should...do that again.” He whispered, staring at your lips.
Levi
- You knock on Levi’s door with the final season of the newest anime craze from the human world.
- Today the two of you are bingeing the whole thing! Levi almost snatched you into the room already excited to start.
- You sit side by side with your finale survival kit. Tissues, bandaids, chocolate, blanket, Teddy Beel, and of course a Ruri-Chan plushie.
- Fast forward four hours and the chocolate is gone, the blanket is in use, and Levi had a bandaid on his hand that he slammed into the floor after a particularly hard to watch scene.
- “It’s just...so hard to say goodbye to this world.” Levi sobbed.
- “I know, my heart isn’t ready to say goodbye to Akira senpai!”
- “MC! I! Will be your Akira senpai!” Levi had turned to hold your hands together as he spoke.
- He seemed so serious but you knew he was caught up with the story.
- You smiled but couldn’t reply as he gave you a sweet and tender kiss.
- “That’s-that’s my confession...to you MC. I’m! I'm confessing to you MC!”
- You are absolutely stunned, thinking carefully a moment you return his kiss, throwing the blanket over you two to hide your blushing face.
Asmo
- You met up with Asmo to shop for a new casual outfit.
- After finding a store with lots of things you liked, Asmo asked for a fashion show.
- If a piece looked particularly good he would applaud and ask for a strut.
- After you were done changing into your street clothes Asmo is standing right outside the changing room door.
- Kabe Don, obviously still trying to enchant you even though it’s never worked.
- “You know I'd love to see you model some things for me privately.”
- You laugh, knowing how flirty he gets.
- “Well that’s too bad, I’d rather put on a show”.
- Without warning you leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips.
- You whimsically brush pass a frozen Asmo toward the checkout counter.
- Asmo is taken completely off guard and sputters out an inaudible response.
- Determined to return the favor tenfold.
Satan
- You were in the library in Satan’s room, returning a book he leant you.
- He turned from a shelf he was scanning to greet you.
- After placing the book on a nearby table you leaned against the table while resting against it, facing Satan as he walked closer to you.
- “I’m glad you liked the book, there are a few more in that series you should try.”
- He brought over three other volumes and placed them on the table next to you. Very slightly his face grazed yours.
- He realizes how close he is to you after noticing your blush.
- “Your face is so red...what are you thinking?”
- You let out a small noise as he closes the distance between you, fitting himself between your legs as you hop to sit on the edge.
- Kisses you gently, intending to pull away until he feels you push back slightly.
- Thought he would just tease you but ends up holding your hips closer as he continues.
- Tongue gently asks for permission to enter before twirling and kneading yours.
- You’re a red, blushing mess when he’s done with you.
- “Hm hm, you’re so cute MC...”
- Goes for a few more kisses.
Beel
- You were meeting Beel at the gym to get a bite at Hell’s Kitchen.
- A game was coming up and he’s been training a lot more than usual.
- He had just finished his last set on the weight bench.
- “Give me a sec to clean up.”
- You wiped the bench down and waited for him to get out of the locker room.
- Beel had a twisted look of discomfort when he came back.
- “Ugh, my arm is sore. I might have done too much.”
- “Here, show me where.” You said while already grabbing the right bicep.
- Your fingers kneaded gently where the muscle felt tense, focusing on how firm his arm and the rest of him felt. All while standing so close together.
- Beel stayed silent until you looked up to gauge his reaction.
- Before you could ask anything he kissed you gently, lingering when you didn’t pull away.
- “That feels better, thank you”
- Maybe he didn’t think anything of it as a demon but you as a human were glued to that spot, savoring the moment.
- “C-can...I have another?”
Belphie
- You were waiting in the garden at your favorite napping spot.
- Belphie was on his way to join you but you’ve been studying a lot and couldn’t fight it anymore.
- He saw you spread out on your blanket asleep already and pouted slightly.
- “No fair, we were suppose to nap together.” He mumbled as he threw a pillow down next to you and slowly slithered himself around you.
- Loooong cuddles turned into tight hugs. Has your body always been this warm and soft? Suddenly he couldn’t get enough contact with you. He wanted more.
- You shifted slightly before turning around in his arms to face him.
- The way you smiled in your sleep was irresistible to him.
- Softly Belphie pressed his lips against yours. Trying not to wake you, he gave you several more kisses.
- After deciding he’d pushed his luck enough he pulled away, but you were already heading towards his lips with another kiss.
- You wore a sly look as his cheeks grew flush.
- Completely shocked he froze. “I couldn’t help it...I want to kiss you more too.”
Diavolo
- Was very excited to have you visit the palace. You had asked him for a gift next time he went to the human world.
- He had just arrived back and summoned you to his palace to show it off.
- You watched as he brought out a 2000 piece puzzle of kittens in a basket.
- “Humans love these right? I found so many of them and so cheap!”
- So precious, you can’t help but start the puzzle with him. He watched as you shared your strategy to make the puzzle easier.
- Diavolo listened to you intently, smiling while watching your nimble fingers dance around for the right piece. Spending time with you was more important to him anything.
- After completing a corner you noticed Diavolo had stopped putting pieces together.
- “Do you need a break?” You asked with a smile, knowing this could be overwhelming.
- Instead he lifted your fingers and gently brushed his lips against them. Your face beamed with a deep red glow.
- But the prince didn’t hesitate to take advantage of your frozen state, placing an equally soft kiss on your lips.
- “I’ll take that as repayment...”
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eremiie · 3 years
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one — love confessions
❥ your actions have consequences. eren wants more with you but his motivation is unclear. there one thing you’re sure of though, eren jaeger is relentless.
❥ wattpad link ; ao3 link ; masterlist
❥ prologue ; chapter two
❥ word count ; 7k words
❥ content ; mentions of alcohol, alcohol usage
huge thanks to @arlert-slut for beta reading my work, she was a big help, ily callie!!!!
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❝ it’s delicate and sickeningly sweet, like the saccharine candy you’d find at a corner store— and what doesn’t help us the remaining taste of strawberry pineapple he leaves on your lips. you kick at the skin in efforts to get rid of it, and he only chuckles at your attempt before dropping his hands from your face. ❞
                                       彡
kisses were peppered on your face, threatening to stir you out of your sleep, and you knew who the culprit was, their hand sliding over the slope of your body and murmuring into your ear— words that were incomprehensible in your sleepy haze. 
"get up, it's time to wake up."
the past few mornings since your return from carla's had been a nuisance for you to get used to, but you were getting used to it. you were getting used to eren shaking you up early in the mornings to propose an activity for when you'd awake, and you were getting used to other things as well, like the more intimate touches he'd lay on you and the subtle nicknames. 
you were getting used to your situation with him after the events of the weekend prior.
the weekend prior; you spent your nights with eren at carla's, and he insisted that you go with him to a party at a nearby bar. you didn't mind and so you let him take you along, only for the two of you leave early after a more than inconvenient mishap. 
it was irritating at most, always having to be the one to drag eren away when he got more than comfortable, always having to talk to him about it only to see him make no effort to change. but for some reason something clicked in his brain that night and you ended up tangled in his sheets, a lazy love confession muttered in your ears when you were pressed against his front. a lazy love confession that you were partially swayed by.
you and eren didn't talk much about it, after leaving his mom's the two of you decided to leave it in the air. after all, there wasn't much to talk about that hadn’t already said. eren would try to do his part to win you over, and you'd just sit back and observe. the two of you went on just like you were before, as a matter of fact how you went on was almost too similar to how everything was before, yet at the same time somewhat foreign when you thought about the "other things".
the other things; the nicknames and the touches. you weren't too fond of them— maybe because you weren't his yet, but for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to shy away from them. they were comforting, they were something new to you, and you'd learn to appreciate them over time. 
it was funny because it was only eren who you’d let do these more than friendly touches even before what happened last weekend, and it was you who enjoyed the whole aspect of it. you were more prone to friendships as opposed to relationships. you never liked them much because you found yourself on a pedestal compared to others. no one could catch your attention, no one was good enough or worth your time, yet eren seemed to build his own pedestal and sit right beside you, and for that he was special.
 it was only eren who was able to do that, and only eren you were able to open up your heart to. you'd only hope he wouldn't screw it over for himself, and maybe for you too.
apart from getting used to your new situation with eren, you were getting used to letting go of things too, namely spending your mornings with someone else— spending your mornings with historia.
it didn't pain you much— you and historia had a friendship of pleasure, words by aristotle; she was good company for you in the mornings after class and when you needed socializing at events. 
maybe you'd blame it on the break you were on, after all, you'd walk out of your first class together. since there weren't any classes 'till next week, that could very well be the reason why you weren’t seeing her. although you knew even when they would start up again it wouldn't be historia who'd be offering you a piece of her breakfast, spritzing her floral perfume over her body for the nth time, or keeping you awake with her tangents, it'd be eren. 
plus, you were saving yourself from the awkward encounter, considering that night when she let her drink plague the front of eren's shirt, and considering the fact that that morning you had just told her to let eren be, that he was a player, that what may be fun for her was only a fling for him. yet you ended up in her exact position, letting eren sweep you off your feet and into his bed. that would linger on your mind when you saw her, and the more you thought about it the less fair it was to her,
but it wasn't your fault, right?
"c'mon get up, it's almost eleven." eren's hand slid back up to shake your shoulder before his fingers made their way up to your eyelid, pulling it up. you smacked his hand down, a groan leaving your lips as you turned in your covers.
"eren," you pulled the soft fabric of the blanket over your head and began to blink underneath them, eyes adjusting to the small gleam of light that was let through the thick fabric. "what is your problem?"
he huffs and you feel his weight dip the bed some as he falls backwards on it, his head resting against your legs. he reciprocates your groan, seemingly more irritated, as if you were the one to disturb his sleep. "my problem is that you won't get up." 
"you said it's eleven eren, eleven." your voice is groggy and you can feel the swell of your face, rubbing at your features before you tugged the blanket from over your head. eren perks up at the sound of the fabric rustling, and he rises, happy to see your face, that same radiant smile you're used to seeing every morning greeting you.
"i always wake you up earlier than this," he shuffles back on the bed and lays his head down against your stomach and although he can feel you glaring at him from above, he still gets as comfortable as possible. it's then that you realize he's already ready for the day, clad in clothes different from what he went to sleep in, a shirt, and some sweats. "'wanted to get something to eat with you."
you feel the guilt curdle in your stomach, his attire tells you he's been up for a while now. he must've let you sleep in a bit longer than usual because he was right, he would wake you up earlier than this and the two of you would get ready together. your mouth downturns into a small frown and your hand comes down to caress his brown locks, almost like a form of an apology. he accepts it, green eyes fluttering shut at your touch. "i'm not that hungry."
"than something to drink? we can go to that smoothie bar nearby."
"we're not using zeke's car again." you knew eren wouldn't let up, and a part of you tells you that you owe him this as a return for the extra hours you were able to catch. you were just talking to talk, you'd end up going with him anyway, you ended up going with him every day.
you can feel eren smile against the fabric of your top, a low chuckle that was barely audible leaving his lips, and it made you smile too. "we'll walk."
it doesn't take you long to get ready, and it doesn't take long for the two of you to be on your way either. you were hand in hand with eren, a small silence looming over the two of you if you didn't count the aimless comments he'd throw here and there that you tried your best to engage with.
it was nothing but you, eren, and the small breeze that tried to sweep the loose pieces of hair around his face away, his hand occasionally coming up to move them out of his line of sight while the two of you walked before immediately connecting with yours again.
it felt nice, it was tranquilizing even and not much was with eren. it was times like this that didn't make you regret having him pull you into his bed on that hectic evening, having him pull you out of bed every morning, and you especially didn't regret it when you caught sight of the glass windows of the bar, chairs and tables still visible through the tinted glass.
his hand drops from yours. it feels empty again and cold when you grab the steel handle of the door. you can feel the wind of eren striding past you and the door shuts faster than you expected. the thud of it closing behind you, almost shutting you in, made you flinch. you turned to look back at it before turning to see eren more than a few steps ahead of you already. 
you furrow your brows and let your feet pick up the pace to catch up to him and you don't even realize the way your hand stretches out for eren to grab it again. he doesn't, keeping his hands in his pocket as he walks, but you couldn't blame him— he wasn't even looking down at your outstretched limb, his eyes surveying the bar. 
you roll your eyes at yourself. your subconscious attempt was feeble anyways. it was no big deal— and so you shove your hand back into the pocket of your jacket, fingers playing with each other inside the fabric.
 the two of you round the corner of the divider placed in the middle of the store. you reckoned it was to give customers who were eating more privacy, and once you got around it your eyes immediately look up to take a glimpse at the menu while your feet come to a halt in line.
eren leans down a bit, "what are you gonna get?"
you shrug your shoulders. you didn't put much thought into it, too in the moment of the walk you were on earlier to consider that you'd actually need to order something when you arrived. eren on the other hand seemed to know what he wanted, staring ahead at the cashier instead of the menu. perhaps he'd been here before.
the line begins to move and you and eren diverge from it, stepping over to one of the open cash registers. 
"hey, what can i get for you today?" the girl has a kind smile on her face that eren tosses back. she glances between eren, then you, then eren again while her finger hovers over the pad of the register. 
he answers before you, letting you take your time to decide what you'll want, you continuing to skim the contents of the menu. "hey, uh," his tongue slides over his bottom lip as he leans forward on the counter, hands hugging the end of it to stable himself while he passes some of his weight forward. "can i get the strawberry pineapple smoothie? can you replace the coconut water with um, orange juice?" 
it’s then that you notice the ash orange of her hair, the way it curled against the frame of her face and complimented the hazel of her eyes that were trained on the boy next to you, listening to him talk while she occasionally nodded her head, punching numbers into the register. "of course you can, pretty."
"that's all you— thanks, carly." you couldn't recall her saying her name, so your gaze travels down to her shirt, body relaxing when you see the name tag pinned to the cloth of her uniform. you shift your weight from one leg to the other, eye flicking back up to her face before eren taps your shoulder, making you look towards him instead.
"_____?" it's your name he says next and he must've had to say it more than once, the slight downturn of his lips tells you so. "what do you want to get?" his tone is different from earlier, and the smile you could hear in his voice when he was ordering wasn't there anymore— but most people put on a cheery persona when addressing an employee. it was more or less natural.
"i'll get what he's getting." you didn't really hear much of eren's order, clearly focused on all except, but you didn't have time to ponder on a stupid smoothie. she punches up your order as eren pulls out his wallet, you not daring to take out your own, hands still sitting idle in your pockets. he slips out a crumpled twenty dollar bill, attempting to smooth it out before handing it to the girl.
you and eren step off to the side, not having to wait very long for your drinks. when eren heads over to grab them from the same brassy orange-blonde, giving her a polite "thank you," and her responding with an "anytime, come back soon!", your phone vibrates in the back pocket of your jeans and you avert your attention from the two by slipping the device out. 
it's pieck, her caller id sitting above the "home". you don't hesitate to swipe your finger across the screen to answer. 
seeing her name made you remember the night at the bar once more, you and pieck enlightening each other with easy conversation, eren being the topic, and you’re reminded to update her about the fiasco that had you slip away from her for longer than you expected.
your mental note to call her clearly was washed away by other intruding thoughts, and the same feeling of guilt from earlier when you were laying with eren returned— she shouldn't have been the one to call you.
you lift your phone up, the glass of the screen was cold as you pressed it against your ear. "hey, i'm sorry for not call—"
"my curiosity got the best of me." you can hear the lightheartedness in her tone, voice soft as it flowed through the phone. it puts you at ease. "don't worry too much about it, i just needed to make sure you were alive after this weekend."
a smile plays on your face and you were almost oblivious to eren's sudden presence beside you, two identical pink drinks in his hand, one jutted out towards you for you to take. your hand wraps around the drink and you walk behind him, letting him open the door for you this time around, making your way out of the smoothie bar.
"i'm alive... what have you been up to?"
pieck chuckles from behind the screen. it's warm and pleasant. this time instead of you, eren and the breeze, it's you, pieck and the breeze. although, you were still aware of eren next to you and the side glances he was throwing your way— interest in every one of them. "that's the question i should be asking you, after all, you were the life of the party on friday."
"far from it, but if you'd like to know 'm fine. out with eren right now, he just took me to this little smoothie place not too far from campus."
she's silent for longer than a few seconds, as if she was processing something before she speaks up again. "eren? now you really have to tell me what you've been up to." her tone still has that hint of jest to it, keeping the conversation lighter than it would've been. 
eren's ears perk up at the muffled sound of his name and he once again turns his head your way, an eyebrow quirked at you that you pretended to ignore. "who are you talking to?"
you bring the smoothie up to your lips, using it to take more time to answer before letting your eyes slide over to eren. "just pieck, nosey." you were only half-joking and neither you or eren laugh at the comment. "not much is up if i'm being honest with you, but i can tell you about," you pause for a moment, brain scrambling to find a word that would make the topic you were discussing more vague. "...we can talk about everything when i get back to my dorm?"
"why don't you come over? yelena is here but i don't think she'll mind." 
you had nothing planned for the remainder of the day, it wouldn't hurt to spend a few hours updating pieck. it was well deserved on her part— she'd been patient and hadn't even sent you a text ever since you'd last seen her at the party. not to mention she was a good friend and a wise person to chat with, her feedback would be nice to hear. "yeah that's cool, i'll text you."
"i'll be happy to see your face, have fun." 
the line cuts off before you could even give your goodbyes but you brush it off and slip your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans, sipping at the almost forgotten smoothie that was dripping against your fingers. eren pulls your now free hand into his own, and it's like he's trying to recreate the moment before the bar, swinging your hands back and forth while the same silence dawns on both of you.
it's a little more stiff, a little too quiet, but it didn't matter because before you knew it you were walking up the steps to your shared dorm and eren's scanning the keycard so you and him could slip inside the warmth of the room.
you don't waste any time placing your cup down and shimmying out of your jeans, replacing them with sweats instead while eren just watches from the seat he takes on his bed. his eyebrows are knit from observing you hastily move around the small dorm. "where are you going?" it was question after question, but it wasn't anything new— he was always eager to know what you were up to, to try and keep an eye out for you and to try and keep up to date with you. when it wasn't a little vexatious, it was actually quite endearing.
you finish the remnants of your drink, plopping the cup into the trash and picking up your phone on your way to the door. "to pieck's dorm, i'll be back later."
eren stands up, following your route of throwing his empty cup into the trash then heading over to you, stopping right in front of your figure and making you tilt your head upward to get a better view of him. "that's what the two of you were talking about?"
he's in close proximity— you could count all the wrinkles on his shirt if you wanted to, or every eyelash that curved downwards above his eyes. "...i guess."
"i wanted you to come with me to reiner's in a few hours, sasha and them were gonna be there."
you recalled seeing sasha on friday, how she beamed being in your presence and how excited she was to see you— telling you that the two of you needed to hang out more, and although now would've been a great opportunity, you had plans. 
you sighed. albeit you never minded hanging out with your friends, maintaining them was a little harder than usual. "for one, i don't know who reiner is, and second of all, i have somewhere to be; i'll just text her when i get back." you'd hope you'd be able to stay true to your word, as you weren't able to do so with pieck. 
in the midst of you turning to grab the handle of the door, eren's hands come up to cup your jaw, palms resting against the supple skin of your face, and you roll your eyes before looking down to the ground.
his affectious demeanor was present again as he pulled you closer and pouted at you while his thumb caressed your cheek. "m'gonna miss you, you'll probably be asleep when i come back."
your own hand comes up to grab at his wrist, but you can't bring yourself to try and pull his hand away. instead, you find yourself rubbing at the tan skin, still not maintaining eye contact. "and that's fine, tomorrow's another day, i need to go." your words are somewhat bitter, but eren doesn't catch on.
he presses a testing kiss to your forehead, looking down at you before tilting your head up more and pressing a gentle one to your lips.
it's delicate and sickeningly sweet, like the saccharine candy you'd find at a corner store— and what doesn't help is the remaining taste of strawberry pineapple he leaves on your lips. you lick at the skin in efforts to get rid of it, and he only chuckles at your attempt before dropping his hands from your face. 
even though you could feel your cheeks burning, you still felt cold without his skin being in contact with yours. "text me when you get back." he says when you're stepping out the door, and you mutter a "we'll see," that you couldn't tell if he heard or not, not that it mattered much to you.
the walk to pieck's dorm feels shorter than usual, and you're not sure whether to blame it on the fact that you were getting used to the route, or on the fact that you were clouded in your own thoughts. either way, you're knocking a melody on her door in no time, and you're greeted by yelena looming over you, a neutral expression on her face.
"yelena," she nods her head at you but doesn't say anything back, only sidestepping to let you in, the person you wanted to see lying on her side against her bed, casting a lazy smile at the sight of you.
"______, long time no see?" pieck doesn't make an effort to sit up, only scooting backwards to create a space for you to sit at, and you let yelena pass you to get back to her desk before walking over to pieck.
"it's barely been a week," you saunter over to her bed, balancing your foot on one of the boxes that platforms her bed to climb up onto it. "you saw me just last friday." 
"and i was supposed to see or hear from you earlier than today." she's still holding her smile as she speaks, tilting her head towards you and raising a brow. "nevertheless, i'm glad you're here now." she truly was— despite you being a year under her, appreciative of your company. to her it was like having a little sister to look after, she felt like she was constantly watching you from the distance— and you felt like she was always there when you needed a bit of advice.
"and i'm glad to see you, how're your friends doing?"
she shakes her head at you but she answers your question anyways, "zeke, is being zeke— off dilly dallying and being an english major, nothing new to him. if you couldn't tell yelena is over there doing some work, porco is doing well, colt’s good, we're all good." with the way she grins wider, you already know what the next topic of discussion would be, her eyes narrowing at you as she finally sits up, back falling into her surplus amount of pillows. "how're you and your friends?"
"well according to one of them they're all supposed to be gathered up in someone's dorm right now, a little get together i think." 
pieck's mouth parts and her eyebrows upturn. "and you've decided to sit here with me?"
"i told eren i didn't want to go, i wanted to spend time with you."
her hand comes up to her chest dramatically and she stares at you in awe, "i always knew you liked me more than the rest of them, apart from eren i suppose." your nose scrunches up at her, you knew it was coming. you knew she'd find a way to bring him up, she always found a way to make things go according to her. it was admirable— and fun to watch when you weren't the victim. "speaking of eren..." her words slide off her tongue tauntingly and you groan. she doesn't take the sound to heart. 
"here we go,"
"what? you said you'd update me. so what happened? my ears are open."
you pull your legs up onto the bed until you were sat criss-cross. "well, after we left he didn't tell me anything until we got back to his mom's," you can hear pieck adjusting herself, getting comfortable as if she was a giddy child and you were a veteran getting ready to tell an old war story. "what he told me was that he had said something to upset historia, and that's why she threw her drink on him— and i told him that he shouldn't have been fuckin' around in the first place."
pieck nods her head after every couple words and you use that as a cue to go on, "and he starts saying he's sorry and shit, i kind of started to feel bad and i reassured him that it wasn't that big of deal, just that he needs to be better, you know?"
"i know."
your voice gets quiet at your next words, and your back slouches. the pads of your fingers tap against each other when you start to speak again. "and after that... after that, i don't really know how it happened but we kissed, and then he took me to his room and... and we had sex," the nearer your sentence came to an end the less audible it was.
"excuse me?" pieck leans in, and you can see her blink once, twice, and then a third time as she raises her nimble fingers to move stray ebony locks behind her ear until the appendage was visible to you, and you almost snort at the gesture. "the last part, i'm not sure i heard it well."
"you did." your hand lightly shoves her head away and it's quiet for a minute, only the taps of yelena's fingers against the keyboard and the birds chirping just outside the window of her dorm. "we fucked." and even though you knew she heard you the first time around, you repeat it. more so to yourself, like you were confirming the events and making sure they were true to what actually happened.
pieck settles against her pillows again but she doesn't look surprised. it's amusement that dances across her features and it's... satisfaction? she lets out a small sigh of content, as she closes her eyes and lets her head rest against the pile behind her. "mhm, that's what i thought."
it's you who's taken aback, her demeanor so calm that it's almost unsettling. "what?" 
"well something happened that night, right? c'mon the way zeke's brother acts around you alludes to something. how he watches you, he's very touchy with you, i'm surprised you didn't figure it out earlier." she doesn't mention how you'd reciprocate every touch regardless of the matter and would watch him in the same manner, maybe just from a farther distance. "he's the candidate i mentioned."
your words feel stuck in your throat and even if you could speak properly you weren't sure what you would say. you'd hope it was only pieck who was this observant, this alert when it came to those around her, otherwise the displays of affection would have to become a private thing; it was almost embarrassing knowing people could see you unknowingly gush over eren in plain sight.
when you don't respond immediately, pieck does instead, and her question flows out of her so easily that it’s as if she was patiently waiting to ask. "what about the blondie?" you were sure pieck remembered her name by now. maybe the nickname was more pleasant on her tongue.
"what about historia?" 
"what about when she finds out about you and eren?"
pieck saw things full circle, she rummaged every corner and crack for possibilities, what ifs, and what abouts, and it made you think harder— even when you didn't think you needed to ponder too much on what she'd make you reflect on.
the quality was endearing when you'd skip a step or two during a math problem, or when you didn't consider the hangover of a party overlapping with a test you'd have to take the next day. however, it wasn't so endearing when you were trying to just get through an exam, or when she made a simple problem more elaborate than it had to be.
"well, i told her not to fuck with eren— i can't help it if he likes me or not." you rub the back of your neck while staring off into the corner of pieck's dorm. "eren will tell her anyways."
"and if he doesn't?" both you and pieck's head whiz towards yelena and you realize the sound of her fingers clacking against the keys of the laptop cease to exist. her slender arm is hung over the back of the chair and her legs are crossed at the ankle. you can't read her doe eyes, not sure if she was genuinely interested in the conversation or if her ears only decided to listen for the remainder of it out of boredom— but you knew she heard the last sentence either way. "it's your job to inform her, after all you seemed closer to her than eren."
"yeah but it's eren who needs to cut her off, so he should tell her then." 
pieck pats the bed in front of her, stealing both you and yelena's attention with the smallest gesture. "what about talking to blondie? giving her a letdown and letting her know what's going on between you and eren? i mean, you and eren aren’t dating yet, right?"
your eyes meet pieck and you speak lowly, slow and careful. "no..." a brow is arched above your eye; you weren't sure what she was getting at. "but that's what he's trying to do. i wasn't just g'nna... throw myself at him that night," you cup your jaw with your hands, placement just like eren's earlier and your face twists into a lovesick expression, lip jutting out and eyebrows turned upwards. "oh, eren yes i'll be yours!" 
pieck chuckles at your sarcastic tone and shakes her head. "i didn't say all that now, i'm glad you didn't..." her hand waves around your face in a circular motion, "do that."
"yeah, 'm not stupid,"
"i know, i know, my point was just that you need to be wary of your circumstances, _____." her words are darker and she gives you a motherly expression, almost as if she was scolding you. her finger pointing towards your figure didn't help to dull that feeling. "you need to be the one to talk to historia and you need to set your boundaries with eren. be mindful of the predicament you're in, it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks."
"and don't be upset if the old dog can't learn them." yelena doesn't fail to add on, before spinning her chair back towards the desk in front of her, seemingly uninterested in the conversation already, the jaded look that she gives you telling you enough.
you don't respond but pieck knows the gears are turning in your head by the way your eyes cloud over and the way you stare a little too long at the photo of her and porco pinned up against her side of the dorm.. if she asked you to tell her the color shirt she was wearing in it while closing your eyes, she was sure you'd be able to give her that and more.
but she lets you ponder and she knows it's a good chance you won't heed her advice. 
you were independent for the most part and you seemed to have things under control when they needed to be— that included having eren under control. so why would you need someone like pieck to tell you to take your brain out of autopilot for a few seconds and be wary of eren?
as far as you knew, from the ache of his words that night in the laundry room, the way he held onto you as if you could slip out of his grip any second; he wanted you and he wanted you bad. it wouldn't be your feelings hurt if he tripped over his own feet— it'd be his loss and he should know you wouldn't be one to try and pick him back up again.
that wasn't the kind of person you were, it never was— it was eren who'd have to change, not you, no matter how small the transition. 
but you knew you wouldn't have to worry about that anyways, it was your subconscious plaguing you.
“my mom would kill me if i played you anyways.”
those were his words that night and they'd linger in the back of your mind. they were a constant reminder to you that what was happening wasn't imaginative, and you'd reckon he'd stick by them.
                                     彡彡彡
nothing feels better than toeing out of your shoes and slipping them under your bed for a later occasion. you had talked with pieck longer than expected, arriving back to your dorm a few hours before midnight, yet eren still wasn't back as you expected.
you slipped out of the attire you'd been walking around in all day and went to the bathrooms to take a shower. it was a quick one, the water temperature more on the warm side then you'd like, but it was nothing you could control.
you found yourself skimming the contents of eren's clothes when you headed over to the closet for pajamas to sleep in, plucking one of his shirts from the hangers. 
don't think too far ahead, it was just the feeling of the fabric clinging to your skin while being a few sizes too big. how it fell around your body and covered you just enough so you wouldn't have to wear sleep shorts that you always ended up kicking off in the middle of the night. 
it felt safe and you'd grown to like the feeling ever since eren slipped one of his shirts over your head when you were barely able to get up.
you crawl into your bed but you knew sleep wouldn't greet you for an hour or so. knowing eren wasn't in the bed across from you stirred your stomach, so you grabbed your phone that was still on its charger and opened youtube; it'd be a clever distraction for the time being.
you weren't sure how long you'd been scrolling through pointless videos, clicking one that’s thumbnail sparked your interest and watching it for as long as you could muster then swiping down to the recommended to repeat the process. 
however long it was, it made your eyes grow weak, weight pulling down your lids and particularly loud segments from each video making your eyes snap back open, the cycle continuing.
it's one noise that makes you jump out of the grasp of sleep— and it's not the sound from the video playing in front of you, it's the noise of the handle of the door jiggling. your eyes move over to watch the brass handle shake up and down with vigor, as if the person on the other side was trying to break in.
it's the curse of breath that calms your nerves, the small "shit," coming from the other side sounding all too familiar even with your body struggling to stay awake. 
a small smile tugs on your lips at eren's attempts to open the door, but you make no efforts to get up. you're more than overjoyed when you hear the sound of a keycard being used at the door, it finally swinging open a little harder than you expected, eren bending down to pick up the card he seemingly dropped. 
he stumbles when he stands, grabbing the door. you're not sure if it was to close it or steady himself, but his gaze is trained on you the whole time when he shuts it, back pressed against the wood when it is completely closed, his frame only standing there for a few seconds before he giggles.
"______."
his words are slurred and he bumps into the end of his bed when he begins making his way over to you. the goofy way your name leaves his lips still makes your heart skip a beat and your hand slides your phone over, arms open for him. "eren."
although you've seen his face more times than you can count, it’s still refreshing to see it for a split second in the dim moonlight that shines on the side of his face as he passes the window. his hair is more tousled than you remember and his eyes are half lidded— but in a way that makes it seem like he was trying to make them as wide as possible. you can't help but shake your head as he crawls into your bed slowly, lifting the covers for him so he can slide in. 
"______... you're awake." he hums when you drape the covers over both his and your body. he makes himself a home between your legs, head falling to your chest and his arms to his sides as hands scrunch into fists.
"i'm awake." he's hot to the touch and he makes you warmer than you were before, makes you stare at him in awe and caress his hair again, taming the stray locks on the top of his head.
"_______," you can smell the alcohol on his breath as well as a floral scent and the smell of sweat that littered his body. it's not off putting enough for you to want to tell him to "get up," and to "go sleep in your own bed." but you'd make a mental note to remind him to shower in the morning— not that he wouldn't take one without your reminder.
"yes, eren?"
eren scoots up more until his head is leveled with yours. his weight is heavy but soothing and you press yourself against him more, able to feel every rise and fall of his chest, every beat of his heart, and every exhale of his breath onto your cheek. "i love you."
you've heard it before more times than you could count. you were his childhood friend, it was so natural but you knew it meant more this time. yet, you couldn't scratch the fact that he was drunk and his words could be empty. you could wake up tomorrow and be the only one who would remember what he said. "yeah i know, eren."
he whimpers and his lips press to your cheek, it's elongated and hard, but when he's done he doesn't move them, letting his mouth rest against your skin.
when you don't reciprocate his fingers come up to turn your head towards him and he’s pressed his lips against yours this time. it's slow and sensual and you melt into the meager kiss. the taste of beer that lingers on eren's tongue is not enough for you to pull away, and the way eren kisses you sloppily and lazily isn't a bother either. 
he groans and the vibrations can be felt where your body was up against his. his lips are slightly dry and it compliments the soft feel of yours that he can't seem to get enough of, his lips trapping your bottom one and him pulling back before doing the same with the top. 
eren's thumb rubs against the skin of your tragus, every back and forth motion making the skin under it tingle. he uses the grip he has on your face to pull you in further and let his teeth graze your lower lip. you're so caught up in the moment, but the buzz of his phone in the pocket of his sweats that sagged against your thigh makes you jolt and pull away for a second.
he tries to bring your lips together again but you remember that he's drunk and both of you need sleep, especially eren if anything. "eren," you breathe, and he murmurs a "hm?" against the skin of your jaw that he was kissing, trailing back up to peck kisses to the corners of your lips.
"let's go to sleep."
"but i love you," he's whiney, a hand sliding down to bring you impossibly closer, pulling you by the small of your back. you sigh, your palms pushing off his chest to put some distance between the two of you that even you didn't want there. but the brunette was too handsy and you were only following your brain, not your heart.  
your hand slips into the pocket of his sweats and you grab his phone, body flipping over to unplug yours and plug his in. 
it vibrates once to signify that it was being charged, then twice to signify another incoming text message and the phone screen lights up, your eyes skimming the screen without thinking.
under every contact name was the words imessage, all his notifications including messages hidden from the lock screen. 
you read the name armin, the text from the boy being the one that lit up eren's phone screen in your face, sasha, a text from her more than several hours ago, and an unsaved number that started with 760, the number having texted a couple minutes ago. you assumed it must've been the one that buzzed when eren was against you.
his phone screen goes dark and you place it down onto the bed, your phone beside it before pulling the covers more over you and not turning around towards eren. you were afraid he'd pester you again. you could feel his abdomen up against your back, arm slung over your midsection that he must've threw while you were plugging in his phone. 
you can hear him snoring against your back and you could laugh at how fast he fell asleep, silently wishing that had been you hours ago. you scoot back against him more and close your eyes, the darkness replacing the pretty moonlight that the crooked blinds of your window let in.
"i love you too."
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jihyuncompass · 3 years
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A Birthday Visit
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Well well well would you look at that. My very first Tears of Themis fic is for Marius’s birthday who could have guessed (anyone who knows me) Happy Birthday Marius, I can’t wait to see you again <3
For future reference, this fic was written for Marius’s 2021 birthday. As of yet Tears of Themis has not been released for the English audiences. I have played the beta but there is a chance Marius will be a little out of character as a result of the timing. 
Summary: You visit Marius’s work to celebrate his birthday with him, even if he’s a little busy 
Marius x MC
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: N/A
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The PAX building was an intimidating one. That thought always came into your mind when you approached it. While the Law Firm was also one of the large skyscrapers that made up the Stellis skyline, the PAX building was taller, and quite the intimidating addition to said skyline. 
It wasn’t the first time you’d been here, far from it, but it was rare for you to go into PAX for a non professional reason, or without being explicitly invited by Marius. You looked up at the building, even without meaning to your eyes focused on the window you knew belonged to Marius’s office. There was a good chance he was in there right now. 
Adjusting your bag over your shoulder you walked through the doors and into the bustling first floor.  
You walked through the groups of professionally dressed employees standing to chat idly, or summarize the recent meetings they had. Or stop to enjoy their coffee for a little while before getting back to work. 
“Welcome to the PAX group.” One of the receptionists started as you walked to the desk. “How can I help you today?” You cleared your throat, speaking as eloquently as you can. 
“Hello, I’m here to see Mr. Von Hagen? I’m a friend.” You said to the receptionist. She raised an eyebrow and looked up at you. Scrutinizing your appearance.  
“I’m sorry, Mr. Von Hagen doesn’t see anyone without a meeting.” You pressed your lips together, 
“I can promise you he’s a good friend of mine, it’s his birthday and-” 
“I’m sorry I have no way to verify that you are who you say you are.” The receptionist said. You reviewed your options in your head, clearly she wasn't going to let you go up there on the promise of being a friend. 
After a moment of brainstorming an idea came to you, digging through your bag you showed the receptionist your work ID badge, listing you as a lawyer for the Themis Law Firm. 
“I’m also Mr. Von Hagen’s personal lawyer, he knows who I am.” The receptionist squinted at the ID, hesitant of it’s quality and authenticity. After typing at her computer briefly she sighed and relented. 
“Aright, I do see your name here. I’ll let you up there and I’ll give a call to Mr. Von Hagen’s assistant to let them know you’re here.” You thanked her and hurried to the elevator. The first challenge was dealt with, now it was just time to go through with the rest of the plan.  
You piled into the elevator with a group of suited men heading to what you assumed were their own desks and offices throughout the building, but you’d be one of the only people going as far up, to nearly the top floor where Marius’s office would be found. 
The elevator was nearly empty by the time you made it up, only a few people exiting with you. 
One of Marius’s assistants was waiting for you on the other side of the elevator. They greeted you as you approached them. 
“Good afternoon.” They said. “I’m afraid to say that Mr. Von Hagen has been stuck in meetings all day so I’m not sure if he’ll be able to see you.” 
You pressed your lips together, you should have asked him in advance, he was usually busier than he always let on. 
“Well I just have a couple things I want to show him, I’m happy to wait for when he has a spare moment.” The assistant seemed unsure but shrugged. 
“Very well, I’ll take you to his office, you can wait there. I’ll let him know that you’re there.” You followed the assistant down the long hallway to the office at the end, the largest by far, belonging to Marius. 
The assistant closed the door behind you, the office was neat and tidy as it always was. Although it was Marius’s office, you were always a little disappointed by just how little of Marius seemed to be in the office. The sleek professional furniture, the carefully organized files, cup full of standard ballpoint pens didn’t seem like Marius. The rebellious, creative and playful Marius you knew well and had grown to adore. 
Sitting on the couch in his office you decided to make use of your time by setting the present you’d gotten him out on the table, along with the small cake box. With your job and caseload you hadn’t had the time to make a particularly fancy or intricate cake. But something small the two of you could easily share.  
You hummed to yourself gently as you got everything set up. Your eyes focused on the work in front of you. So much so you didn’t even notice as the office doors opened while your back was turned. 
“So.” A voice said from behind you. The sudden noise startled you, making you jump. Quickly turning around you were face to face with Marius. Dressed with a full suit, although he had that playful gaze he kept around you. Seeing him, your shoulders relaxed, and a smile crossed your face. “I heard you wanted to see me.” 
“I hoped I could catch you for a minute for your birthday.” You explained to him. “I should have asked about your schedule, I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were so busy.” Marius shook his head. 
“Nah I’m glad you’re here. It’s a perfect surprise.” Marius looked past you and to the table behind you where everything was set up. His eyes lighting up with that almost childlike excitement he got. However that excitement was quickly clouded. 
You frowned. “You don’t have a lot of time huh?”
Marius hesitated to answer you. “I don’t have a lot of time, I have a meeting in a half hour.” 
As you looked from Marius to the table you straighten your back and beamed at him. “Well then let’s make this a fun half hour! Enjoy the time we have.” With this the playfulness returned. The Marius you loved to see. 
Sitting beside one another, you made quick work of slicing the cake into two even slices for the two of you. 
“I’m afraid it’s nothing fancy.” You said. “But I have no doubt it tastes good and that’s what matters, doesn't it?” 
“Did you make it?” Marius asked, a brow raised curiously. 
“I did, I’m not a baker though so be warned.” Marius picked up the fork, picking up the perfect bite of cake to get both the cake and the frosting on top. Watching him closely you made note of his reaction. “What do you think?”
Marius nodded. “It’s good, I think I would even say I’m impressed.” You relaxed against the couch. 
“I’m glad you like it.” You said. “I was worried it wasn’t going to be very good.” You took a bite to taste it yourself, the sweetness of the cake hitting your tongue immediately. You’d had better cakes, but still you couldn’t deny the little part of you that was proud of what you’d made. 
Not wanting to waste your time you quickly leaned forward to push some presents closer. This seemed to grab Marius’s attention away from the cake in his hand. He set it down to pick up one of the gifts, looking over the basic wrapping paper. 
“Go ahead.” You encouraged. “Open it up! Take a look.”  Marius stared with the smallest one, quickly tearing off the paper without much thought. He pulled out two tickets, reading the tiny text on them. “They’re for an upcoming art exhibition I read about online, I thought it’d be fun to go together. I don’t know nearly as much about art as you do but maybe you could teach me some stuff.” 
Marius smirked. “I guess I could spare some of my expansive art knowledge to impart some on you.” 
Holding back from rolling your eyes instead you gave him your best genuine smile. “I would love that. I’d love to learn from you.” Marius seemed pleased by this, as evidenced by the redness that quickly started growing on his face. Looking back at the gift he tried to get himself back under control. 
Similar to the first gift Marius tore the wrapping paper off the second one. This one, a hand held sketchbook, bound nicely with a leather cover, his initials MVH put onto the front. A small note you’d written scribbled onto the first page. 
“This is-”
“Well, you’re always working so hard here, or studying hard at university, and I know you would probably much prefer to be in your studio painting. So, that’s a little sketchbook, one you can carry anywhere.” Flipping through the pages, Marius’s expression turned soft, warm, happy, not holding that playful spark. “I know you probably could afford any notebook in the world, but this one is customized just for you, not another one of these exists just like it.” 
The softness in his face stayed even when he looked up at you, even when he looked down again. 
“Thank you, for this.” He held it carefully in his hands, as if he was afraid of damaging it too soon. Before he could even put pencil to paper for the first time. There were still a couple gifts left, but you let him linger on that one. Trying to memorize every single second in your mind. 
The rest of the gifts were more basic things, special sweets, some art supplies you’d seen when you passed by the art store on your way home. Despite how basic many of these smaller gifts were, he never seemed ungrateful, and equally happy to see each one. 
All the presents unwrapped, and cake nearly finished you both sat together happily. Looking at Marius with the initial excitement wearing off you started to see the exhaustion peeking through. The heaviness in his eyes, the way his shoulders were stiff yet slumped. He looked tired, worn out already. 
“Your assistant said you’ve been in meetings all day?” 
Marius rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, PAX has a big thing coming up. I’ve been in meetings since eight. This is the first break I’ve had all day.” As he spoke he loosened his tie, letting it release some of the tension in his shoulders and neck. 
“You look exhausted.” You said. He sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Have you been resting?” 
Marius’s eyes opened again. “I was at my studio late last night. But I’m fine.” 
You looked more concerned, you doubted he was really resting enough. With everything he did, there was no possible way he was letting himself take breaks. Even on his birthday he seemed to be working full steam ahead. 
“Marius, why don’t you lay down for a bit? Let yourself rest?” Marius looked over at you, as if he was trying to think through it, crunching the numbers in his head. Gently touching his shoulder you turned him to face you, his eyes raised to look at your face. You loosened up his tie some more and unbuttoned the top button on his dress shirt to let him relax. 
 “Come on.” You said in a soft voice. “Rest for a little bit.” 
He considered this for a little while longer. Then let long a long sigh, he let himself lean forward enough to rest his forehead against your shoulder. Reaching up you rubbed his back, gently massaging to let him relax against you. 
“I can’t rest for long.” Marius muttered. “There’s that meeting-”
“Something is better than nothing.” You reminded him. “How about you lie down? You can rest with me until your meeting.” He was still for a little while longer, then lifted his head long enough to move. 
Marius’s head was laying in your lap. You gently played with his hair, running your fingers through the strands. Marius’s eyes slipped closed, his breaths long and even. 
“My meeting-” 
“I’ll get you up when it’s time. Rest right now.” You told him. He sighed and let himself fully rest. 
“Thank you.” He muttered. 
“Happy birthday Marius.” You whispered to him. Watching him rest, you couldn’t help but smile. This moment was going to be over sooner than later, soon he’d have to get up and get himself cleaned up, he’d go to that meeting, and then the next one and the next one until he could call it a day. He’ll probably go to his studio again, even if he’s exhausted. He’ll try and get some rest, but eventually he’ll get up and start it all again. 
But right now he’s with you and resting. Enjoying the short break he could afford. Maybe not the best birthday one could have, but one that was more than happy. 
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