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lydiimae · 3 months

Text

Infatuation

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

MDI!! 18+

Part 2 <3

Warnings: Heavy drinking, mentions of opium use, mentions of prostitution, rough sex, fingering, oral sex, semi-public sex, squirting, marking, thigh riding, vaginal sex, dom benedict and sub reader, brief spanking, possessive benedict, LOTS of dirty talk

A.N: hi again, i'm back on my bullshit <3 first of all, thank you so very much for the love on my first Benny fic AND my first fic ever. liiiiike seriously, that was so sweet <3 T-T. anyway, this fic is another Benny fic- a smutty one at that. it is vaguely based off of the infamous party where Ben has his threesome, however, i changed it up quite a bit so take it at face value hehe. i am planning on making an Anthony one next, probably some more filth so I can practice getting my wording to a place i am proud of. also, i think i will maybe make this into a series??? so do let me know if you like it so i can get an idea >.< enjoy, ily, and THANK YOU AGAIN <3 ^-^

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You were never one to go to parties, especially the ones your dear friend Genevieve Delacroix invited you to. She had a knack for finding the most raunchy, wanton, artists who would throw parties full of courtesans, sex, opium, alcohol... the whole of it.

Being a maid for such a wealthy and well-known family, the Featherington's to be exact, meant you knew the secret lives that many lords and ladies lead outside of the stuffy confines of the ballrooms.

You were lucky to be the lady's maid of the sweetest Featherington, Penelope, and therefore you were even luckier to hear about the Bridgerton family. From what she told you, they were all kind and polite, just like anyone else. She had also hinted, quite shyly, to the men of the family being gorgeous. The third born being her favorite.

You had seen glimpses of pearly white teeth, dark blue tailcoats, and their chestnut brown hair but were never lucky enough to see a full image of any of them but Eloise and her sister, Daphne.

When Genevieve insisted on you tagging along with her and a friend from a higher-up place, you begrudgingly accepted. It was lucky that the young debutante you worked for insisted on having something important to do, so you snuck out and walked through the streets of London to the modiest's shop.

Genevieve dressed you in a tight but, incredibly beautiful, dark blue corset and a pair of black pants, to which you raised an eyebrow. "I look as if I am soliciting, not as if I am curious about this party you have been nagging me to go to." You comment, looking in the mirror.

"What if you solicit, hm? Where is the harm in spending a night with a lord or even another servant?" She returns, tightening up the laces on the corset before stepping back and looking over her work. "Besides, look at yourself. You have a body that would make any one of those silly debutantes jealous, why not show it?" She grins.

You sigh and turn to her, a small cheeky smile on your face as a result of her teasing. "You owe me for this, Viv." You tease and she laughs, putting on her cloak as she hands you your own. "There she is. The Y/N I know. We will have fun, I swear it." She says. Once your cloak is tugged over your shoulders, the both of you make your way out of the shop and towards the house where the party is being held.

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Benedict never snuck out, not before he got invited to Lord Granville's house. The man was nice enough about him completely insulting his art to his face, nice enough to recognize an artistic eye and even the hint of talent that Benedict possessed through merely speaking about art. He thought the gathering was going to be one where he would meet artists and practice his craft. He was wrong.

Of course, he was experienced in the world of sex, drugs, and drinking. He attended the gentleman's club with his brothers after almost every ball he attended, much like every other lord in the ton. He has shared his number of passion-filled nights with nameless women, some of which he cannot remember. The only remenice being the ache of a hangover, and the taste of expensive whiskey still lingering on his tongue.

He would have never thought that the artist had such a scene hiding behind such an unassuming townhouse.

He followed the artist in and was met with quite the scene. The room was hazy with the smoke of expensive cigars, the candlelight casting a low gold hue on the entire house. He followed the artist deeper and was met with courtesans soliciting men at every turn, to which he grinned.

Even further and he was led into a room where women were posed naked, in quite compromising positions, for eager artists who were trying to master the anatomy of a naked woman. Or so that is what Granville claimed.

He grins crookedly at the sight. "Quite the room, is it not?" Lord Granville piques up from behind him. He turns to face the man and nods. "Quite. Might I stay here? I have found myself needing practice of anatomy as of late and this is the perfect place to do so." He says, a playful glint in his eye.

Granville, of course, picks up on it and nods. "Of course, Lord Bridgerton. Do enjoy yourself." He returns with a knowing smile and a wink before exiting the room. Benedict sits at one of the free easles, one of the other men lighting a cigar and offering it to him. He accepts, and puffs on it as he begins to work.

He could get used to this.

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Genevieve leads you through the party, grabbing two glasses of what looks like scotch off of a passing servant's tray. She settles for meeting her friend, who you quickly learn is the wife of said artist who is throwing the party, on the stairs.

After a while of chatting you learn that the young woman's name is Lucy and her husband is Henry Granville, an artist whose work you always found interesting. You also are clued into the fact that their marriage is one of convenience, rather than love, as Lord Granville has no romantic nor sexual interest towards the opposite sex. You find no issue in what the young couple has, after all, you have seen much worse when it comes to marriages in the ton.

"Viv, might I go explore, or am I to only solicit?" You tease as you push off the wall. She laughs and shakes her head. "I am not your keeper, Y/N. Go and do as you wish, just be careful." She says, a hint of genuine protectiveness seeping through her tone of voice. "I promise. I will find my way back to your shop if anything goes awry." You assure before walking down the steps with a quick wave to both of the women.

You duck into a small room with a door that leads to a balcony after grabbing another glass of scotch from a passing servant. However fun it is coming to these things with Viv, you find them quite overwhelming. You are more attuned to the quietness of your servant's quarters, spending countless hours curled up with a good book that your young mistress so generously gifts you from time to time.

You walk out on the balcony, leaning heavily on the metal railing as you look up at the stars. The scotch, and the fact that you get much drunker much quicker than most, is making a delightfully warm feeling bloom in your chest. You take a deep breath of the fresh air to calm your senses before ducking back into the party.

You make it all of two steps before colliding into a broad chest, which sends your alcohol down the front of your torso.

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He was in that hazy, alcohol-filled room, long enough to get just drunk enough to where he was clumsy. He catches the woman he so foolishly clambered into on his way out of the room he was painting in by the waist, which sends her drink out of her hand and down her front.

"My God, I am so incredibly sorry my lady." He rushes, gazing down at the mess he made. His eyes widen at the sight that lies in front of him.

She's a young woman, young enough that she can not be past the age of two and twenty, in a very revealing corset top and black pants. Her hair is tucked up elegantly, yet a few unruly waves have fallen as a result of the night's activities. Her cheeks are pink, probably from the embarrassment or perhaps even the anger, of getting drenched in scotch.

The liquid drips down her neck, and he follows a drop from her neck to where it travels right between her breasts. The tops are peaking out from being hugged so tight. They are full, so very full. He wonders what it would feel like to run his tongue over the smooth skin, what it would feel like to roll her nipple between his teeth and suck.

He shakes himself out of it and meets her eyes once more before he gets any more aroused than he already is.

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You recognize him immediately as a Bridgerton, though you have no idea which one. He has a silly crooked smile on his face that you cannot seem to draw your eyes from, he also sports the undoubtedly Bridgerton chestnut brown hair.

He has longer hair than the one Penelope speaks of, but only just. Your eyes roam from his face to his chest, where he is wearing only a loose undershirt, his waistcoat long forgotten in drunken activities you're sure. His suspenders hang loose on his shoulders, just barely hanging onto his black trousers.

"You're a Bridgerton." It slips out of your mouth before you can stop it, the effects of three glasses of scotch. He grins wider, chuckling a bit. The noise makes your entire body heat up. "I am. Benedict Bridgerton in fact." He says, his eyes never straying from yours.

"And you are?" He ponders after a moment of silence from you. You jump at the question, having been too distracted by the look of his lips to even notice he was speaking. You clear your throat and adjust your posture. "Y/N L/N." You answer shyly.

"Well, Y/N L/N, can I take you to a room and clean up the mess I made of your top, or is that entirely too forward for a gentleman to ask within mere moments of meeting?" He grins, the alcohol he consumed only ebbing on his already large confidence when it comes to women. You only nod shyly, afraid that if you speak you will make a stuttering fool of yourself.

He offers an arm, which you take happily, and begins to lead you through the party.

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He pulls you into a room and, almost immediately, his hands encompass your waist. "You... are the most stunning woman I have ever had the pleasure of looking at." He murmurs, sending your heart soaring. You rest your hand on his chest, newly emboldened by the liquid courage you have been sipping on the entire night, returning his cheeky smile. "Is it too forward for a lady to say the same within mere moments of meeting?" You return.

He lets out a chuckle when you parrot his past words and he leans down. "A witty woman as well as a beautiful one, what else do you have up your sleeve Miss L/N?" He purrs, running a flattened hand up your back until it meets your hair. He tugs it down from its pins, sending it tumbling over your shoulders.

"Perhaps, if you are lucky Mister Bridgerton, I shall show you." You whisper, leaning in so your lips are but a hair's width away from his. Something dangerous and incredibly intoxicating passes over his features as he lets out a noise, a growl, that causes your core to dampen.

"You are a very forward woman, Y/N. I find it quite... infatuating to say the very least." He whispers before capturing your lips. You close your eyes and tangle one of your hands in his thick hair, the other finding his collar and giving it a slight tug.

He groans into your mouth, his hands enveloping your bum cheeks and pulling you even closer. He wants to feel the rise and fall of your breasts as he makes you pant. And by god does he.

You moan into his mouth as his hands squeeze the soft skin of your ass through your trousers, which gives him the perfect chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes smoky, like cigars and whiskey. It makes your clit throb painfully.

As if reading your mind, and body, he spreads your legs with his knee and slides his leg between them. His thigh presses against your closed cunt and you gasp, breaking the kiss to throw your head back. He smirks and holds you right where you are by moving his hands to your hips.

"So sensitive." He whispers and groans as you begin to move your hips back and forth against his thigh, chasing the feeling it gives you. "Fuck, you are just full of surprises aren't you darling? I did not even have to tell you what to do, you just did it," He praises, his eyes locked on the place where your clothed core meets his leg.

"Riding my thigh like a bitch in heat. I might have to keep you." He gusts over your shoulder as he begins to kiss the exposed skin there. Oh God, how you would love that. To be able to fuck him whenever you saw fit, yes please Mister Bridgerton. "Please." Is all you manage to strangle out as you begin to grind down on him harder.

He bites down on your shoulder, leaving a bright red mark there, which he smirks at before he slowly guides you to the dark red chaise that lies in the corner of the room. He lays you back, slowly unlacing your corset with his slender fingers. He throws it across the room when it is off, his mouth immediately taking in one of your hardened nipples.

You cry out when he sucks, watching him look up at you with a shit-eating grin that makes your cunt even more soaked than it already is. He sucks and bites your bud before turning his attention to the other, giving it just as much attention. "The least I can do is clean up the mess I made." He whispers over your nipple, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure straight down to your core. Cocky bastard, you think to yourself as you grip his hair.

You are a whimpering, moaning mess by the time his face returns over yours. He presses a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your lips before sitting up and stripping himself of his suspenders and his shirt before returning his attention to you. He takes off your shoes and then unbuttons your trousers, slowly sliding them down your legs.

He groans lewdly at the sight. Genevieve had insisted quite heavily when she was dressing you up that you forgo panties. She said it made trousers more comfortable, less tight, so of course you agreed. You decide tonight, that if wearing no underwear will illicit that pretty noise from his lips, you will never wear them again.

"God you are soaked. Drenched from riding my thigh and a quick suck to your nipples." He whispers as he kisses the insides of your thighs. You whine and buck your hips up toward his face, which results in him quickly grabbing your hips with one of his hands and pressing you down into the cushion so you are unable to buck and writhe. "Perhaps I was right in my assessment of you, Miss Y/N. You really are just a bitch in heat. So desperate to be full of my cock, painted with my seed." He murmurs before licking a stripe up your slit.

You cry out and grip his hair with both hands, needing something to ground yourself as his tongue swirls around your clit. He lets out a growl at the taste of your dripping cunt, so sweet and yet so tart. Utter perfection. The noise you make in return has him wishing he could drink from your body for the rest of his days, die with you sat atop his face. Riding his mouth to oblivion.

He moves his hand down to his trousers, fumbling with the buttons to free his aching cock. He slides two fingers into your body without warning and you keen, your eyes rolling back as he collects your juices. He pulls his fingers out just as quick as they went in, and spreads your wetness on his length, stroking himself hard as he drinks from you.

"Ben... oh fuck.... so close." You babble as his tongue presses inside your hole, drawing the most heavenly noises from your body. He pulls away just as you start to see stars and you grasp at his hands, tears forming in your eyes from your denied release. "Please... Please..." You sob, desperate for the feeling to come back.

He chuckles deeply, hooking your knees over his shoulders. "I've got you, love." He assures, kissing away your tears before pulling back with a cocky grin that sends your heart fluttering. "You look like a masterpiece, crying for my cock. All flushed and swollen." He murmurs. You do not know if he is talking about you or your pussy, but you never wish for him to stop.

"Please, my lord. Please, please... I need you. I need..." You babble, completely free of any thought other than his pretty dick plunging inside of you. He curses and bends down, claiming your lips with his before thrusting into you without warning. He bottoms out, and both of you moan, the kiss becoming a mess of tongue and tooth alike.

He begins at a brutal pace, slamming into you so hard that the chaise creeks against the hardwood floor. You scream at the heavenly feeling of pain and pleasure, the sound muffled over his lips. Sweat splashes from his collarbone to yours as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, the sickly sweet smell of sex enveloping your senses.

He grunts and breaks the kiss, holding one of your legs by the calf, his other hand cupping your jaw. Your mouth falls open as soon as his lips are gone, a loud moan coming from somewhere deep within slipping out before you can try and stop it. He grunts and sticks his thumb past your lips, afraid that someone will hear from outside the thin walls.

You happily oblige and close your lips around his digit, swirling your tongue around him to the rhythm of his thrusts. He moans at the sight of you sucking on his thumb like it's a cock, as his cock slams into your pretty pussy. "Fuck. I am keeping you. You are mine," He accentuates the word with a slap to your ass cheek, causing you to cry out over his finger and clench down on his cock. "Forever. No one else will ever-fuck.-be able to fill this sweet hole of yours. It is all mine. You are all mine." He grunts as his thrusts become sloppy.

He yanks his thumb from your mouth and attacks your swollen, throbbing, clit. He rubs it hard and fast, to match the rhythm of his thrusts and you cry out. He quickly intuits that you are as close to climax as he is and bends down, covering your lips with his own so that you can scream freely.

You do as he expected, letting out a long scream into his mouth as stars rush over your vision and your body burns hot. Your juices soak both his pant-covered leg and the velvety fabric of the chaise below. The feeling of your fluttering cunt tightening even further sends him over and he releases deep inside you before he goes limp over your body.

He pushes himself up after a moment, relishing in the sight below him. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen and bruised. You have a bite mark on your shoulder, your hair surrounding your head like a messy halo. Perfection. A ruined, beautiful, masterpiece made solely by him.

He brushes the hair out of your face and presses a sweet kiss to your brow. "Might I be privy to those many secrets you were so keen on hiding, Miss L/N?" He teases softly, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and beginning to clean the mess of mixed juices on your thighs.

You giggle. "The next time we meet, I promise to tell at least one." You return, your heart fluttering at the way he so delicately slides your trousers back over your legs after cleaning you up. He grins as he buttons them up, his hands encompassing your waist to pull you up to a sitting position.

You use the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck, and it is his turn to laugh. "Next time, then. I will wait with held breath until then, I assure you." He whispers, helping you into your corset. "But for now, I owe you a lovely night, hm?" He murmurs as he pulls the laces of your corset tight. You sigh and nod. "I would like that very much." You whisper back, resting your head on his shoulder.

He smiles cheekily, "Is it entirely too forward for a gentleman to say he would like to do this every night from now on, mere hours after meeting?" He whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

No, Mister Bridgerton, it is not.

2K notes · View notes

dambaepuff · 12 days

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hey hi, could i make a request? Im happy to see another good author starting :) u also seem very nice. could i request a yoongi x preferably fem!reader? if you want you can make it a genderneutral fic. my idea was a scenario were one of them is jealous, i thought of it being her jealous of him, over something stupid, but not in a toxic way like yk just pure jealusy mixed with insecurities. And they have a little petty argument and like it ends with smut i mean they make up to eachother that way :P like smut mixed with fluff at its purest. also, i am really curious to see how u write yoongi, i see many authors making him cold and tough but i believe that he is a very caring softie haha, by the morning wood headcanons, i think you got him very well ;) thank u in advance

REGRETS (m)

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x FEM!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, one shot, request, established relationship

Warnings: jealousy, insecurities, a petty argument, depictions of sex, crying, emotional, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, bodily fluids, penetration (vaginal), a bit of praise, light biting, squirting

Word count: 5k

Summary: uhhh idk dude just read the request that’s pretty much it

A/N: UGH I LOVE THIS IDEA!! I don’t have much experience with writing angst so this was a really nice exercise. Thank you sooo so much for all the kind words, it’s what keeps me writing. I’m also a sucker for soft Yoongi so this is right up my alley. (Also this is not proofread so lmk if there’s any mistakes or anything)

Thursday night, it’s quiet outside. You’re trying to watch a movie with Yoongi. Key word trying. His hand has been gently rubbing your thigh for a few minutes now, whenever he tries sliding it up to tease you, you grab it and put it back onto his lap. He’s clearly trying to get you heated, but it’s having quite the opposite effect. Lately you’ve felt quite out of it, your lack of confidence causing you to avoid intimacy. With Yoongi being the gentleman he is, he always accepts it when he realizes you’re not in the mood and he moves on. However, you’re starting to doubt his ability to keep going like this. What if he realizes you aren’t satisfactory to him anymore? He could easily find someone else who would be all over him in seconds.

Replaceable. That’s how you’ve been feeling lately. He could have anyone he wants, so why you? “Are you not feeling it tonight?” Yoongi’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. “Huh? Oh. No I’m sorry.” You respond, your voice growing quieter with the end of the sentence. “That’s okay, c’mere.” He mumbles before pulling you into his chest, his hand soothing down your back.

‘Will he stay with me if I keep pushing him away like this?’ Is what you keep asking yourself. On one hand you’re afraid he’ll stop loving you if you stop showing him affection. And on the other hand, you’ve been so self conscious lately about your body and if you’re doing things right you don’t know if it’s worse to ruin the relationship by pushing him away or by not being good enough. ‘Do I even deserve to be with him at this point?’

Friday, 4:37PM. You got off work early today so you decided to stop by Yoongi’s studio. He’s still working so you’re lounging around on one of the couches inside of the room. The two of you had made plans to get dinner together when he finishes up for the day which you’re really looking forward to.

A short blurry figure appears at the studio door, they raise their hand up and place three quiet knocks onto the glass. Yoongi gets up with a huff and opens the door. In front of him stands a familiar woman, you can’t quite remember her name, but you’ve seen her around the company building before.

“Here’s your coffee Suga!” She says in a cheery tone. Her eyes land on you and her smile falls a bit. “Oh, I didn’t know you would be here. Sorry I didn’t get you anything.” She apologizes with a light bow of her head. You dismiss her with a wave of your hand before going back to fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. She turns her attention back to Yoongi who is setting his drink down onto his desk. “Hey Suga, a few of us are going to that barbecue place down the street for dinner and drinks tonight. Do you guys wanna come with?” She asks with a tilt of her head, her long black hair swaying with the movement.

“Uhh, yeah?” He looks at you quickly for confirmation to which you nod your head lightly. “Yeah. Sure we’ll come.”

Yoongi continues chatting with the girl. She casually leans against the door frame, the conversation between them flowing oh so easily. ‘It took me ages to be able to talk to him that smoothly. Why couldn’t I be like her?’ You think to yourself, trying your best to not let your irritation show.

He bids her farewell and sits back down at his desk. For the remaining time you spend in his studio all you can look at is him. Your gaze burns holes into his side profile, tracing each curve of his features over and over again. Why would a man whose heart only knows kindness, whose eyes and soul are so understanding of everything be with you? Your being is rotten with unforgiving bitterness, you seethe at every imperfection like a nun enraged by sin. Why would he want you?

He’s like a wild flower. He needs to be pollinated by the love and kindness of a bee to bloom, yet he stays with you, a caterpillar feeding off of him, biting off his flesh for your gain. Eating away at him and leaving nothing. Maybe you aren’t even a caterpillar. They can eventually turn into a beautiful creature with wings of eyeful colors, yet you can’t become anything more than what you are. You’re stuck in a vicious cycle, devouring every resource without paying any mind to the fact there will be nothing left when you’re done. What does he get for loving you if you can’t be of use? You can’t make him bloom.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” You snap out of your thoughts, the reality around you giving you whiplash. Yoongi is kneeling in front of you, holding your jacket out. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.” You try to take it from his hands, but instead of giving it to you he holds it up so you can slip your arms inside. Once it’s on you he turns you around and zips it up for you. “Okay, let’s go.”

As you’re walking down the long hallways towards the elevators, Yoongi notices something odd. You usually grab onto his hand the moment you start walking somewhere together, but your hand is tucked away in your pocket now. He gently pulls it out and intertwines your fingers together. You can’t bring yourself to grip onto him like usual, instead you limply keep your hand at your side, letting him hold it. He’s a bit confused by this, but nevertheless he keeps holding you, his grasp only growing tighter in an effort to reassure you.

Yang Sunhee. Her name popped up in your head the moment she sat down across from you and Yoongi at the long wooden table. She’s been leading the conversation at your part of the table for a while now, mostly talking to Yoongi. To her credit she has tried to include you into the conversation a few times, but you didn’t really give her much to work with so she gave up.

You’ve been pushing your food around your plate for a while now. It’s mostly pieces of meat Yoongi placed down onto it for you, your favorite in fact. You just can’t get yourself to even place anything into your mouth, anxiety squeezing your throat so tightly you can barely even swallow your own saliva.

Sunhee is laughing at something, her eyes bright and her large smile hidden away behind a polite hand. Yoongi is laughing too, maybe not as hard as her, but he’s still laughing. ‘Why am I not the one making him laugh right now? Am I not funny anymore?’

As you’re glaring down at your food you feel a warm hand make contact with your shoulder. “You wanna go home?” Yoongi asks quietly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Yes please.” You breathe out, barely audible. On the drive home Yoongi tries asking what’s wrong multiple times, but all he gets in response is a simple “I just don’t feel too well.”

It’s been a few days now since you had dinner with Yoongi’s coworkers. He realized something was wrong so he’s been giving you some space. To be quite honest you aren’t sure if the space is helping or making it worse. After spending the whole day quietly sobbing to yourself in bed you decide to see what he’s up to. You find him sitting in the living room watching some sort of documentary and looking like he’s about to fall asleep. One of his cheeks is squished against a pillow and his hair is going on all the wrong directions. He looks adorable, your heart almost breaks in two knowing this is who you’ve been pushing away lately.

Taking a seat next to him, he lifts up his blanket so you can use it too. Just as you’re getting sleepy as well his phone pings on the coffee table. Instinctively you reach down for it so you can hand it to him, but when you see the contact name annoyance squeezes at your chest.

Yang Sunhee

Sent a message

“Why is she texting you?” The question slips from your mouth before you can even think it through. “I don’t know, let me see.” He responds while extending his hand out for the phone. You peer over at the screen, shamelessly trying to see what she sent. “Ah it’s just the schedule for next week.” He says and likes the message before setting his phone back down. Now you feel a bit guilty. Why were you questioning the intentions of this woman? She’s his employee after all.

Yoongi’s large hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb gently gliding over your cheekbone. “I know that look, what’s wrong baby?” He asks, his dark eyes skimming your face in search for answers. “It’s nothing.” You respond a bit too quickly, your tone stiff. The corner of Yoongi’s lip quirks up. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Your eyes shoot open, “N-no!” you sputter out a weak defense. His hand slides down to your chin, the grip tightening a bit. His smirk spreads into a smile which angers you. He thinks this is funny?

“Don’t fucking touch me right now.” You say in a way harsher manner than you intended, tearing his hand away from your face. A flash of hurt runs over Yoongi’s face, his smile instantly falling. “Don’t look at me like that! I just- I need a moment right now.” You say in an apologetic tone. “You need a moment? I’ve been giving you a moment for days now. What about me? I keep trying so hard and you don’t show an ounce of being grateful. What’s your problem?” His tone gets louder as he talks, anger evident in his facial expressions.

“Problem? Oh it’s a problem now that I can’t always feel one hundred percent happy? Go sleep with some happy drugged out whore then if that’s what you want!” Without realizing it your tone has risen to a yell, you’re standing now, no longer in the comfort of warm blankets on the couch. “Don’t yell at me!” He yells back, tears beginning to brim his eyes.

“You’re yelling too asshole! Oh you’re gonna cry? Go cry to Sunhee, maybe she can suck your dick to make it better if you can’t go a week without me sucking it!” The moment you finish the last sentence a silence falls over the apartment. Yoongi stares at you wide eyed, unable to form a single sentence.

He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes watery and his hands trembling. Realizing you went to far the only thing that pops up in your head is leaving the apartment for a bit. You speed walk to the front door, tugging your shoes on quickly and pulling a random jacket on. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” Yoongi follows you once he realizes what you’re doing. Unable to look at his face you grab your keys and walk out, slamming the door behind you.

Not knowing where to go you walk to the nearest park. Taking a seat on one of the benches you stare up at the moon. “Why did I say that?” You mumble to yourself, tears stinging at your eyes. Your throat contracts, guilt choking you. There’s no holding back now, you let your sobs loose, tears running down your face uncontrollably.

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” A soft voice calls out to your right. Your head shoots up, trying to find the source of the sound. There stands Sunhee, she seems to be in her pajamas with a puffer jacket thrown on top. Her hair is a mess and she’s holding a leash. A little white dog sniffs around near her legs, you assume it’s her’s.

“What’s wrong?” She asks as she sits down next to you. “Ah don’t worry about it.” You mumble, sniffling lightly. “You’re so pretty (Y/N), I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look good while they cry before.” Sunhee says with a genuine smile. “I- uh what?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend I’d be jealous of Suga for having a girlfriend as pretty as you.” She giggles lightly.

“WHAT?” The question comes out harsher than you intend, the whole situation confusing you. “Listen, if you ever leave Suga just give me a call.” She says with a playful wink. You laugh in disbelief, your tears completely gone now. “You’re funny Sunhee.” You say, still sniffling lightly. “I’m not joking, but thank you.” She giggles along with you.

“Now why are you outside so late?” She asks while pulling her dog up into her lap. “I had a fight with Yoongi, I didn’t really know where else to go. I’m kind of scared to face him right now.” You answer truthfully. “Girl, have you seen how he looks at you? That man is a goner, I’m sure whatever you argued about isn’t that bad. You should go home and apologize, you can talk it through.” She says while giving you an encouraging smile. “You think so?” You ask quietly. “I know so.”

Even with Sunhee’s encouragement you’re still unsure. Guilt wracks through your whole body, pressing down on your insides and making you nauseous. You try to be as quiet as possible when you enter the apartment, but the sound of the heavy front door closing and jingling of keys betrays you. Just as you’re taking your shoes off you hear shuffling down the hallway. Yoongi’s dark figure emerges, you’re ready to hear something nasty from him, but instead you’re met with two warm arms wrapped around you.

“Thank god you’re safe.” He mumbles before kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry baby. Please don’t leave me. I didn’t-“ you’re cut off by a hiccup, your tears returning. “I didn’t mean to say any of that. Please, please don’t leave me I’ll never do that again…” You sob into his chest. “Shhhhh, I know you didn’t mean it, I should’ve done some things differently too.” His hand softly pets your head.

“I’ve been trying to figure out why you’ve been acting so weird lately and I think I get it now. You look at her like she killed your dog. You know she’s a lesbian right?” You can’t help but laugh a bit at that. “Yeah I kind of found that out just now.” You mumble, your fingers tangling into the material of his shirt. “Why don’t you like her?” You can feel him softly smile against your hair as he asks the question.

“I don’t know I just-“ You try to form the right words, but they won’t come. “Ugh! She’s just so pretty and she’s really open, it feels like she’s perfect and has everything you could need and I’m just sort of me? I don’t know, it’s stupid. I’m just projecting.” Yoongi listens intently to everything you say while he takes your jacket off. “Lately I’ve felt like the shell of who I was when you met me, you know? I’m just sort of bleh- and every other woman around me seems to have her shit togehter.” A tear runs down your cheek and Yoongi chases it away with his thumb.

“It’s why I’ve been avoiding having sex lately. I just feel gross and ugly while you… you look like you were sculpted by the ancient Greeks. You need a Hera to your Zeus. I’m like a satyr or something!” You let out a bitter laugh, trying to mask your feelings. “Hmm I think we’re more like Orpheus and Eurydice. Except I don’t want to lose you the way he lost her. They were such perfect lovers, yet there was something tragic about them. What’s love without tragedy?” He softly spoke, continuing to wipe your tears. You let out a genuine laugh and hit his chest lightly. “You idiot! You don’t get it.”

“I think I at least partially get it. I mean hell you make my knees weak whenever you look me in the eye woman, and we’ve been dating for years! I’d go to the pits of hell for you a million times more than Orpheus if it meant having a bit more time to spend with you. There’s no other person that could fulfill your role in my life as well as you do. I love you for you, you’re my muse. My light.” He places a ginger peck onto your forehead.

Love and desire suddenly flood through you, grabbing the collar of his shirt you pull him into a rough kiss. A few more tears make their way past your eyelids, but these ones of relief and joy rather than sadness and frustration. Yoongi gladly accepts your advances, kissing you back firmly. He barely wastes any time trying to get his tongue intertwined with yours. Your interwoven muscles becoming a metaphor for your souls combining together, the act of physical intimacy projecting your consciousness into one being, content and whole.

One of your hands shoot up to grip his hair a bit tighter than necessary which makes him release a deep moan. He pants against your lips, trying to catch his breath, but unable to fully separate your bodies. As he had endured yearning for you such a torturous amount, how could he let you go now?

He presses you flat against the door, holding you down chest to chest. His cold hands slide up your shirt, the contrast of temperature making you shiver. Caressing the skin of your stomach so lightly it tickles, he snakes one of his hands behind your back, swiftly unclipping your bralette in one movement. You let it drop to the floor, the only thing on your mind right now being the feeling of his body on yours. With his hands lightly ghosting over your breasts now, you shudder each time one of his fingers brushed against your nipples. Slowly he pulls your shirt off, the cold night air bites at your skin making your nipples harden. Instinctively your arms shoot up to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. He firmly grips your wrists and pins them down above your head.

Now fully exposed to him, he looks you in the eyes before licking a fat stripe from the area between your breasts to your neck. Lightly blowing onto the wet part of your skin, you take in a deep breath from the sensation. He begins to trail kisses down to your chest, letting go of your hands so he can bring you as close to him as possible. You tug at his hair softly as he mouthes at ode of your breasts, his tongue lightly teasing the soft bud. He groans softly before kissing down lower so he can get onto his knees.

He kneels before you know, unashamed of the submissive position he’s in. His teeth occasionally graze your stomach between sloppy open mouthed kisses. Looking up at you through his lashes, Yoongi starts undoing your pants. He pushes them down as if they’re getting in the way and moves his kisses down to your thighs. His uncalculated mouth moves dangerously close to your clothed cunt. Hovering over it he purposefully breathes through his mouth so you can feel his warm breath on your skin. You gasp when he suddenly pressed his nose against your pussy and inhales deeply. You can peel the tips of your ears heating up from embarrassment, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Ugh, fuck how I missed this part of you.” He groans as he kisses over the thin fabric. Finding your clit almost immediately he starts to roll his tongue against it through your panties. Your arousal and his saliva mix together in the material causing an uncomfortable need for real contact.

“Yoongi, take it off already…” you whisper to him, brushing his bangs out of his face. Looking up at you with a cheeky smirk he grabs onto the hem of your underwear with his teeth, making sure to lightly graze your sensitive skin with them as he pulls down. Your panties don’t even have the chance to reach the floor and his mouth is already on you again. He runs his tongue through your folds, making you instinctively angle your hips to give him more access. Heedlessly circling your clit with his tongue, he occasionally sucks on it or flicks it. You’re unsure if his mouth is glistening from his own saliva or from your wetness, but the sloppy noises he’s making are causing you to involuntarily buck your hips into his mouth.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my sweet girl.” He mumbles as he pulls away, nuzzling his head into your thigh. Replacing his tongue with his fingers, you let out a quiet moan when he slips them inside of you. “I love having you like this, only for me to see. You know I’d never do this for anyone else, right?” He emphasizes the question by pressing his fingers down against your sweet spot. ”Shit, Yoongi. I love you so much, no one makes me cum like you do.” Your response comes out in a dragged out whine.

Satisfied with your reply his mouth returns to your clit while his fingers work you open. The combination of sensations makes an orgasm built up in your abdomen fast. “Yoon- Yoongi, I’m gonna ah- I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, trying to warn him. This only encourages him to go faster as an orgasm ripples through you in harsh waves, your head falling back against the door as your eyes roll into the back of your head. You spasm slightly as he continues to work your cunt, trying to pull him away so he doesn’t overstimulate you.

He licks off your juices from his fingers, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. As soon as he’s back on his feet you go in for a kiss, leaning on him for support while still coming down from your high. He refuses to let your lips part as he leads you to the bedroom, his shirt and pants getting lost along the way.

“Lay down baby.” He mumbled against your lips as he led you to the bed. Kneeling down between your legs he made sure you were comfortable on your pillow. No matter how basic, missionary was always the best when you needed to express your love sexually. Parting your lips he pulls you down a little so your thighs are pressed together. He grabs his erect cock out of his underwear, not even bothering to get rid of the boxers. Pumping it a few times he gives you a dopey look, a lazy smirk spreading on his face.

“You ready?” He rasps out, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, mixing his precum together with the aftermath of your previous orgasm. “A little too ready.” You replied, running a hand through your hair. “Mmm I can tell.” He teases while spreading the natural lubricant over his cock. Slowly he pressed the tip in, “Fuck, it’s going in so easily, o barely had to prep you. You really want it, don’t you?” his brows crease together in pleasure as he slowly bottoms out. “Yes, fuck Yoongi I want your cock so bad.” Your hand shoots up to grab onto his shoulder, biting your lip at the fullness.

“Please, (Y/N). Can I move?” He murmured, holding onto your hips tightly. “Yes, fuck me Yoongi.” You replied, grabbing his face to place a wet kiss onto his lips. He let out a low moan as he started thrusting into you, the warmth and wetness of your cunt feeling better each time he fucked it. You lightly squeezed your walls on purpose knowing it drives him crazy. “Oh my- ah shit I won’t last long at all if you do that.” He said breathily, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. You hooked one of your legs onto his hips, pulling him forward so he’s pressed into your cunt as deeply as possible. The both of you groaned at that, as soon as you let go he started thrusting into you with a quicker pace. His movements rapidly increased with each slap of skin that echoed throughout the space, his head thrown back. That look on his face means he’s absolutely lost in please and that makes you proud. He molds so perfectly inside you it makes all of your doubts melt away, it’s like he was made for you.

Matching the pace of his thrust to his fingers flicking your clit, Yoongi can swear he can feel you pulsating around him. “Ah, fuck (Y/N) I think I’m gonna cum already. Shit I’m sorry it just feels too good.” He groans, the already pink tips of his ears darkening. “It’s okay, go ahead baby, cum inside me.” You breathily respond, continuing to moan with each of his thrusts. He speeds up before abruptly stopping, the feeling of his warm seed filling you up making you clench around his cock. “Wait, shit, shit run my pussy please I’m so close too.” His fingers immediately speed up on your clit, furiously flicking it as your abdomen tightens again. As the hot white pleasure rips through your whole body, making your muscles spasm you hear a wet noise. Looking down the moment you can open your eyes you see Yoongi’s lower stomach covered in a clear liquid.

“Did you just make me squirt?” You laugh in disbelief. “That’s a first.” He mumbles before pulling his cock out, various liquids gliding down your ass. “I’ll go get a towel. He quickly gets up, trying his best not to make any of his surroundings wet.

As the two of you are laying in bed, your warm baked bodies pressed together, you feel Yoongi’s chest vibrate as he speaks up. “From now on, you always have to tell me when something’s bothering you, okay?” He softly says, stroking your hair. “Okay.” You whisper back. “Promise?” He questions while raising his pinky finger up, you lock yours with his, pressing your thumbs together. “Promise.”

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts x you #bts smut #bts angst #suga x reader #suga x y/n #suga x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #bts x y/n #bts x female reader

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elronds-meleth-nin · 3 months

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I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

I heard a song and one of the lines got stuck in my head, so here's a fic. (If you're curious, it was "Figure You Out" by VOILÀ.) No idea why, but Thranduil just felt perfect for this.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Thranduil x Reader

[A/N: This is mostly just fluff, but there's some innuendo, so... 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, Elf x Human romance, mutual pining, idiots in love, Thranduil being dramatic, fake betrothal speedrun, Thranduil being soft for one (1) person only, protective Thranduil, Human!Reader has been adopted by elf who had no idea what he was getting into and Thranduil thinks he's an idiot, mild innuendo.

~*~

My mind wandered during my guard shift. Given that nothing ever penetrated this deep into the realm without the king's consent, the risk of allowing my focus to roam among my busy thoughts was minimal. The night air was brisk as I sat on one corner of the king's balcony with my bow laid across my lap.

Normally, the night air was soothing, but at that moment, all I could think about was how different everything would be soon. There would be no more extravagant views of the stars framed by elaborately gilded windows, no more training with my bow, no more front row seats to royal audiences, and - the worst of all - no more late night conversations when King Thranduil grew weary of his work.

I'd taken those things for granted. Oh, I hadn't squandered my time once I'd become one of his guards, by any means, but now that I might be forced to give up that position sooner than I'd anticipated, a list of regrets seemed to be cycling endlessly in my mind's eye. One that caused me the most pain was that I would very soon no longer be the recipient of his majesty's secret smirks when something we'd discussed privately occurred in his court.

The sound of a quill scratching away on parchment within the king's study ceased abruptly, but not even the anticipation of a quiet, intimate talk with him could lift my spirits. Not after the news I'd had that morning.

The swish of a cloak being removed was followed by unhurried footsteps toward the balcony, and then he was there beside me. The King of the Woodland Realm stood less than a few feet from me in all his finery, save the little circlet that usually rested upon his brow. He tended not to wear it when he retired to his chambers for the evening, choosing instead to lay it atop a book of poetry which resided permanently on his desk.

"On a lovely, cloudless night such as this, what cause would a newly-engaged lady have to look so forlorn?" The smooth, regal voice of my liege met my ears, and under any other circumstances, I might have scrambled to my feet to bow before him, as was his due. All I could muster, however, was a quiet, sincere apology over my shoulder as I remained seated on the balcony. I could feel his keen, pale blue eyes on me as I set my bow aside and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, dear. Is he that repulsive?"

"Not physically, but...all he seems to see is himself. I am perfectly aware that the betrothal wasn't either of our choices, but he could at least pretend that he's interested when our parents are nowhere to be seen." I was aware that I sounded ungrateful, but just because I was a mortal woman in a realm of Elves didn't mean that I had to like it when I was constantly looked down upon by others.

One of the few people who never gave me the impression that he thought less of me took a seat beside me in robes much too elegant for anything less than a perfectly padded chair to touch.

"Have you spoken with your guardian - apologies, your father - about your fears?" Instead of sounding judgmental, Thranduil's voice held only softness - a rarity, to be sure, but such a tone was more common when he conversed with me than with anyone else. I nodded my head as I recalled the cold aloofness in my adoptive father's voice as he'd dismissed both me and my protests.

"He seemed more concerned with maintaining the status associated with his name than with some silly little mortal's concerns." I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, I really did, but the sharp edge that crept in made me cringe a bit. "After all, who am I to complain when he took me in? My life could have been over before it had even truly begun. He could just as easily have left me to die in the ruins of our burning village and adopted an Elfling instead. I...owe him for all that he has done."

One of Thranduil's hands rested lightly on my shoulder, coaxing me to face him. My eyes met his, and his free hand laid over my wrist. The warm weight of his palm covering my pulse made my heart flutter in my chest.

"Is that what he told you?" When I stammered about it being nothing more than the truth, he shook his head while stormclouds gathered in his expression. "What foul words of comfort from one who claims to care for you."

To that, I had no response. Naturally, several statements sprung to the tip of my tongue - defenses for my father's actions - but I swallowed them all down when my king's gaze warned me that he would tolerate no such excuses.

"Remind me, mellon-nin, how long have you served in my guard?"

"Twelve years and a few months, sire."

"And in all of our many conversations, have I ever given you any reason to doubt that I value you as highly as any other in my kingdom? After that first fortnight, when you were terrified of making a mistake, have you ever felt out of place because of your mortality?"

The memory of that fateful night drew a smile to my lips.

"No, mellon-nin. That rather thorough tongue-lashing you meted out made your stance quite clear to all in the palace," I murmured allowing myself the small liberty of turning my hand beneath his and threading our fingers together.

The guards he'd berated for their rudeness and bigotry had practically fled the throne room when he was finished with them. After that night, he'd ordered that whenever I was on duty, I would be assigned to his personal detail.

"Then, what cause have you to believe that I would tolerate anyone treating you so poorly anywhere else in my domain?"

"This is different–"

"How? Enlighten me," the king ordered giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Father has the right to demand that I repay him for the time he has spent on me," I hedged, but Thranduil shook his head.

"Just because he raised you, that does not mean that he was unaware of what he was choosing. He may not have known the full extent of the demands made of a parent, but that was not the fault of the innocent babe he rescued." He sounded so calm, so casual about his assertions that I could do no more than blink as he spoke. "I do not expect Legolas to sacrifice his happiness to satisfy some imagined debt incurred at his birth, nor should your guardian make such ludicrous demands of you."

We sat quietly for a moment, side-by-side and hand-in-hand beneath the moonlight before words began flowing from my mouth almost without my consent.

"He's an ass, you know, the man to whom I have been promised. Nothing brings him greater pleasure than a mirror, and nothing strains him more than remembering a preference held by someone other than himself," I murmured feeling as though this confession of my unkind thoughts about the Ellon would give me some measure of comfort beyond another's commiseration. "Six different times he has insisted that he knows my favorite flower, and six times have I received something completely different. He claims that I keep changing my answer, but, truly, I have given the same response every time."

"He chooses not to listen," Thranduil muttered almost to himself.

"Quite correct, aran-nin. He is dismissive...practically ignores me when we are in the same room..."

"Had he been listening, he undoubtedly would have heard your scathingly pointed sighs, not unlike those which you direct toward any who insult your king in the throne room," he teased, and a huff of laughter bubbled out of me. "I shall have you know that I enjoy those little sighs. They convey a great deal about the receiver's lack of intelligence and manners, whilst simultaneously broadcasting that you would like nothing more than to drag them from the gates by the scruff of their neck. Quite effective, do you not agree?"

"Oh, yes, mellon. As I recall, you've allowed me to do just that on several occasions," I said glancing over at him. The answering sparkle in his eyes coupled with the wicked little smirk adorning his lips made my heart thud faster in my chest.

"And I reveled in every second of their humiliation at your beautiful hands," Thranduil practically purred in satisfaction at the memories, but I sobered rather quickly as I recalled the reason I was so down in the first place. He must've seen my smile slip. "Forgive me, I was certain that you enjoyed dragging witless rats from my sight...?"

"I do...rather, I did." The correction was small, but he pounced upon it immediately. The hand that had been on my shoulder grasped my chin and forced me to look back up at him. He didn't need to say a word. The question floated between us unasked, yet requiring an answer. "My betrothed made it clear that he believed a guard was no proper wife. He has demanded that I resign my position here."

More seriously than he had all night, Thranduil gazed into my eyes.

"Is that what you want? Do you wish to give up the station you fought so hard to attain for a man who cannot remember even the simplest of things about you?" I shook my head as hot, desperate tears filled my eyes. "Then tell me, what do you want? What desires fill your mind when you allow yourself to dream under cover of darkness?"

I most certainly could not give him the whole truth. I couldn't tell him that over the course of our acquaintance and friendship I had fallen in love with him. Nothing could ever come of my pathetic heartache. I was only a guard. A peasant. Peasants might fall in love with royalty, but they did not end up with them. That was not the way of the world.

"Love," I breathed instead. "I want to be loved for myself, not my father's position. I wish to be cared for and to care for another. I wish to remain a guard, a warrior for the Woodland Realm, and to be accepted as I am, not swept aside. Obviously, I am not without fault, but while I attempt to grow wiser and gain experience, I do not wish to be impeded or judged by someone who could never remember even the most basic facts about me. I...What I want is impossible."

A small, gentle smile crossed the king's lips, and an intense, burning desire to kiss him fought a war within me against my common sense. Thranduil could forgive much, but a lapse in judgment as severe as throwing myself at him? Never.

"Your presence here is proof that nothing is impossible. You are much easier to love than you have allowed yourself to believe." His deep, rumbling voice sounded at once comforting and sensual, which proved quite effective at helping me blink back my tears before they could even begin to fall. "When are you next due to meet with this unworthy cad?"

"Tomorrow. My father has invited both he and his parents to our home for the evening meal as it is my day without a shift." I was surprised at how steady my voice sounded after how vulnerable I'd just been. Strangely, though, I felt no shame in having allowed my friend to see my pain.

King Thranduil nodded his head pensively, brushing his thumb over my chin as he did so - why had he not yet released his grip? Not that I was going to complain, of course. Being this close to him, touching him, speaking with him in confidence...that was as close as I was ever going to get to him, and even that might soon be pulled from my grasp, so I savored every moment that I was afforded.

Neither of us had much more to say. Instead, the Elvenking slipped an arm around my waist and tugged me close enough to his side for me to lay my head on his shoulder. We sat in companionable silence until the time came for the guard change. Bidding me sweet dreams and a safe trip home, Thranduil dropped a soft kiss onto my hand and retreated back inside his rooms.

As usual, the guard who was to replace me gave me a raised eyebrow at my familiarity with someone so far above my station, and, as usual, I ignored him.

Sneaking to the stables on my way out, I plucked an apple from my coat pocket and headed to the gilded gates of the stall holding the king's mount. Slicing the fruit quickly in half with my dagger to delay my return home by a few extra seconds, I cooed gently to the large elk, stroking the soft fur on his muzzle as I offered him the treat.

"Who's a good boy? Hm? You are! Yes, you are," I praised as he gingerly bit into the first half of the bright red fruit, then the second. He was a gentle giant, in truth. Much of the kingdom supposed that he would be as prickly as his rider, but nothing could be further from reality. Firstly, the king was only short with those who deserved his ire. Secondly, the admittedly imposing elk upon which he rode hadn't a mean bone in his very large body. "Aww, you're never grumpy with me, are you, mellon-nin?"

He chuffed and snuffled, nuzzling gratefully into my caressing fingers as a 'thank you' for his treat. Even he would be a far superior companion for life than the idiot with whom I'd be forced to spend yet another pointless evening the next day...and perhaps the rest of my life.

"Don't worry, mellon, even if he makes me resign, I'll still find a way to sneak in and bring you extra apples." The pleased little snort he gave me drew a giggle from my lips, but I knew that soon the guard patrolling this section of the grounds would be here. I bid goodnight to my tall, fur-covered friend and set off on the path toward home with our secret intact.

Had I so much as bothered to glance back, I would've seen a familiar head of bright blond hair watching as I tugged the hood of my cloak over my head.

When I awoke the next day, it was still early morning. The lateness of my shift usually tired me out well enough that I slept for at least another hour or two, but after a few bleary blinks, I realized that I'd been awakened by voices.

Odd. My adoptive father did not usually entertain guests at this hour. Either something had happened, or today was destined to turn out rather strangely. As he hadn't bothered to come wake me, I gathered that there was no urgency in whatever had transpired. What was not in question, however, was the way my stomach growled as I tried to roll over and go back to sleep.

With a sigh of defeat, I climbed out of bed and dressed, even going so far as to tie my hair back in a quick braid since it looked as though it might rain. Thus, clothed and presentable, I cleaned my teeth and ventured from my bedroom in search of food.

The voices seemed to be coming from my destination, so it seemed as though I would get both sustenance and an answer to my curiosity all at the same time. A fortuitous turn for such a gray morning.

"...ere she is now." I was able to make out my father's voice as I intentionally stepped on the creaky board in the hallway. I wasn't as quiet as an Elf when I walked, but I still didn't like to appear as though I was eavesdropping or sneaking where I shouldn't be. When I stepped into the kitchen, I froze.

There in all his regal, perfectly-groomed glory was King Thranduil, sitting at our tiny wooden table.

What in the name of the Valar was the king doing in our kitchen?

"Aran-nin," I greeted him, bowing slightly less steadily than I might have if I'd been awake for more than a few minutes. A low, velvety chuckle floated around the space.

"Come now, meleth, you know there is no need for such formality," Thranduil crooned giving me a charming, mischievous smile as I straightened again, but that statement alone nearly shattered my poor tired mind.

He'd said 'meleth,' but...that meant 'love.' He'd never called me that before. And I still didn't know why he was in our kitchen.

Glancing between my king and my father, I tried silently to piece together what the hell was going on here. Thranduil must have seen my lack of progress in my eyes, because he continued as if this was all completely normal.

"Come, break your fast. Your guardian has been kind enough to make tea and lay out some provisions for us," he said standing and pulling out the chair directly beside him.

Almost without thinking, I did as he asked, and my heart thudded rapidly in my chest when he seated me as if we were at some lavish feast instead of around our small, wooden table. He acknowledged my hastily-murmured gratitude, then resumed his own seat with his usual flourish. The three of us ate quietly for a few moments, staunchly ignoring the fact that the king was in our tiny kitchen eating with us as casually as if he had always done so.

It was...pleasant. Strange, obviously, but much more enjoyable than my usual solitary morning meal.

"So, meleth-nin, would you like to tell him the good news, or should I?" Thranduil asked, and I looked up at him. Slightly more cognizant than before, I recognized the glint in his eyes that usually accompanied a desire for me to play along with whatever he said next. I could do that.

"I'm quite certain that it would be much more eloquent coming from you," I demurred, and I very pointedly avoided looking across the table at my father's reaction to whatever bit of theater my king had orchestrated. Less than a heartbeat later, I found my free hand firmly in Thranduil's grasp as he looked at my father.

"The betrothal you arranged for your ward is hereby declared invalid by order of the king," he said, and the stunned expression on my father's face was worth every moment of confusion I'd experienced that morning. He took a moment to gather himself before clearing his throat and looking between us in askance.

"If it is not too presumptuous, sire, may I ask why you have done this? Her betrothal to–"

"That engagement was no more than a farce. We meant to announce it earlier, but with how busy I've been attending to my royal duties, I fear I have been remiss." The king cut him off, and the indignation in my father's eyes gave me a sick sort of pleasure. "You see, your ward is not available for the suitor you preferred, because she has already accepted my own marriage proposal."

Oh. So, that was what he had in mind. A faux betrothal. Somehow, that was both intensely flattering and a knife to my chest.

The announcement worked to perfection, though. My father looked as though he'd been punched soundly in the face.

"You...?" He blinked and made a second attempt at speech. "Why would a king want her?"

Thranduil's head tilted in a manner I recognized as indicative of the imminent rise of his temper.

"Why does a king desire anything? Tell me, why should a king not desire a worthy queen for his realm?" He asked, and my father caught up rather rapidly with the realization that he'd said the wrong thing. Thranduil looked back over at me as he lifted my hand to his lips. "Why should an Ellon not marry the one whom he loves?"

Ow. Those were the exact words I'd longed to hear from him for so many years, but to hear them now knowing that they were all an act...

"And why should I not wish to marry the Elf with whom I have grown so close over my many years of guard duty?" How far he intended to carry this fiction, I didn't know, but I could play along for now. I could hide the pain.

"I...Congratulations," my father stammered hesitantly, but he was no longer relevant. Not now.

"Thank you," the king said without taking his eyes off of me. "Meleth, I believe it is time for you to live in the palace. It will be your home once we are married, and if you are prepared, I can take you back with me. My mount is outside."

"Of course, but I shall need a few moments to pack–"

"Nonsense. You needn't do such menial work. You are to be my queen. I have already arranged for your belongings to be brought to you this evening. For now, you need only bring yourself and a riding cloak," he insisted with a warm smile.

"Might it not be simpler, my king, if I were to save you the trouble of taking her with you? I could escort her to the palace myself this evening so that you needn't be burdened by sharing your mount," my father said, and the blush that sent my cheeks burning at the thought of the pair of us riding together atop his elk was automatic. No acting required.

I prayed that Thranduil was unaware of how drastically he affected me, even within my own imagination.

"Bringing my queen to the palace is my responsibility and privilege. And, if you shall forgive me for saying so aloud outside of the solitude of our marital chambers, meleth-nin, I view the opportunity to feel you in my arms with great anticipation," the king said turning my hand over gently and placing a slow, sensual kiss right over my racing pulse. My breath caught in my throat at the hunger in his eyes. His lips lingered a few beats longer than I expected, only pulling away when my father cleared his throat pointedly. "My apologies. In the presence of such beauty, I find that I am transported into the realm of fantasy."

Thranduil's words did not match his expression. He was an Ellon who found vast satisfaction in playing those around him like an orchestra. He wasn't sorry at all.

"As much as I adore seeing you like this, my darling king, I do hope you will be more discreet while holding court," I teased, but his smirk only grew.

"When my queen is so breathtaking? Never." If it wasn't for the disgustingly sexy wink he tossed me, I'd have thought he was laying his act on a bit thick. As it was, though, he seemed to be staying in character quite effortlessly. For my part, I was one shaky breath away from giggling like brainless idiot, or bursting out in tears because of the simple fact that this was all an act.

Ducking my head in what I hoped was a passable semblance of bashfulness, I tried to steady my breathing.

"I...trust that you still plan to give up your position in the guard?" My eyes flicked up and met my father's. There was something in his expression - disbelief, confusion, suspicion - that I couldn't quite place.

His obvious lack of trust after all these years angered me.

With the sweetest smile that I could muster, I tilted my head curiously.

"Not at all. A queen must be willing to fight for - and alongside - her people if she expects them to fight for her in return. Loyalty must be earned; it is not a gift to which one is entitled." Thranduil gave my fingers a gentle, supportive squeeze. "Surely, after your many years as a warrior, you of all people understand how crucial it is to inspire loyalty in those whom you command?"

He couldn't protest. When Thranduil said nothing, giving him neither a change of subject or an opportunity to dodge the question, my father stammered about his question being a foolish one and about the change in suitors being so sudden.

Almost as soon as we stepped outside, the king's elk snuffled happily. He walked over to us, but to my surprise, instead of vying for Thranduil's attention, he made a beeline for me. Without thought, I patted his muzzle and ran my fingers down his neck. Snuffling lower, as if he knew I usually kept his apples in my pockets, he looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mellon, I don't hav–" I was silenced by a large, gentle hand landing on my shoulder.

In my king's grasp was a bright, ripe, red apple. The same kind I usually smuggled out of the larder as a treat for my furry friend. He'd already sliced it in half - when had he even found the time?

"Thank you, but how did you...?"

"Nothing happens in my realm but I know of it," he whispered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over my scalp.

Choosing to temporarily ignore the implications of his statement, I accepted the apple and fed it to his elk. After a moment, Thranduil moved nearly soundlessly back toward my father.

"Ah, before I forget, this is for your ward's former suitor," he said pulling an envelope with the royal seal from his pocket. "Please convey to him that if the contents raise more questions than answers, he is most welcome to see the palace healers about his obviously failing memory."

With his cloak swishing behind him, Thranduil swept back over to me and helped me onto his mount's back. Once he was seated behind me with an arm wrapped firmly around my middle, it all sank in.

This might be an act for my father, but this was happening. I was really riding toward the palace with my king's chest pressing against my back. The guards who manned the gate would see us. Any who encountered us would bear witness to the king's act. How far did he mean to take this?

Surely, he wouldn't actually marry me just to get me away from one unsuitable Ellon? And when he did eventually end this ruse, what then? Would I be forced to go home with my tail tucked between my legs?

When we were around the halfway point in our journey - far enough from both my home and the palace that I was certain we wouldn't be observed - I asked if we could stop for a moment. Despite his confusion, Thranduil gave the command, and his elk trotted to a graceful stop. Without waiting for assistance, I slid off the saddle and landed rather hard on my feet.

Ignoring the new ache in my ankles and the ache that the loss of Thranduil's steadying grip left in my chest, I took a few steps and tried to slow my breathing. The sound of my traveling companion landing infinitely more gently than I had met my ears along with a concerned call of my name, but I just shook my head.

"Are you hurt, meleth?" He asked, and I swallowed heavily.

"No, but...my king–"

"You are perfectly allowed to call me by my name. After all, we are betrothed. It would not do for our subjects to see us behaving as if no love exists between us," he said as he patted his elk's neck, and a pang of hurt wound through my heart. Thranduil was saying all the right words, but it was an act. There were no longer any witnesses. There was no longer anyone to watch as my heart broke.

"Why are you doing this?" At the pain in my voice, confusion and concern washed over his features.

"Whatever do you mean?" The Elvenking asked stepping away from his elk's side. His cloak billowed around him, and it was all I could do not to drop to my knees at the sheer majesty of the figure he presented. All it did, though, was reinforce what I already knew: Thranduil was not for me.

"Please, do not misunderstand, I am grateful that you have saved me from such an unfortunate match. However, you needn't spare my feelings by pretending to love me. There is no need to waste your precious time playacting, mellon-nin."

"'Pretending'?" The word escaped him as a harsh, dangerous whisper. Oh dear. I'd seen the king's rage before, but never had his icy fury been turned upon me. Despite the outrage in his tone, his next words were at the same hushed volume as before. "'Playacting'? What do you take me for?"

I could see why Prince Legolas had insisted that raised voices were preferable to the fear that his father's cool, piercing anger inspired. I wasn't afraid, but I was acutely aware of the severity of his emotions. I wasn't intentionally trying to anger him, but I needed him to know how close he'd come to breaking me beyond repair. Before I could answer, he advanced another step and continued.

"And, pray tell, what am I, in your estimation? Cruel? Unforgiving? Demanding? Judgmental?" His eyes flashed with something akin to pain. "Perhaps your censure is not based upon personality, but upon appearance."

The glamour he kept constantly in place over his scar melted away.

"Is this the source of your misgivings? Am I too ugly for you to accept, even as a king?"

"You know that's not true," I snapped, with an edge of warning in my voice, recalling the first time I'd seen him without the glamour.

A few months after my appointment to the king's guard, I was given a jar of pain-dulling ointment by one of the healers to pass on to the king. I'd delivered it, of course, but when I'd been hesitant to leave him, going so far as to ask if he was injured, he'd locked the door and showed me what the fire drakes of the north had done to him. Thranduil admitted later that he'd intended to frighten me that night, but all I'd done was ask if he needed help applying the medicine. Once he realized I thought no less of him for his injury, he'd let me.

Yet he had the gall to stand before me and accuse me of being shallow? Had he learned nothing about me over the years?

"Then answer the question," Thranduil bit out quietly. "What exactly do you take me for?"

"A king," I breathed looking up into his eyes. Confusion mingled with his anger. "Peasants may fall in love with royalty, but they are not offered the luxury of marrying them. Kings do not give lowly guards a second thought, even if they afford them the title of 'friend,' so I will ask you again, sire: Why are you doing this? Why are you acting as though hope abounds for my doomed heart where none has ever existed?"

His brow smoothed, his lips parted a fraction, and his glamour slipped silently back into place as he processed what I'd said. Oh, Valar, what I'd said! I'd confessed to loving the king!

Comprehension melted his anger away into nothingness. Instead, he moved within a single step of me, lifting one of his large, graceful hands to caress my cheek.

"You truly do not know?" I couldn't even bring myself to answer as I leaned into Thranduil's touch. This might be the last chance to do so after what I'd just admitted. He'd dismissed guards in the past for much less severe transgressions. "When we spoke last night, you told me that you desired to be loved - not by the whole of the Woodland Realm as I believe you deserve, but by one person. The Ellon your father chose for you certainly could not do that when remembering something as small as your favorite flower caused him such strain."

Low and gentle, his voice trickled over my ears as smoothly as honey. He...He didn't sound angry, anymore. Why wasn't he enraged that someone like me had dared to cross the more-than-generous boundary of friendship that he'd allowed me?

"My king–"

"Thandruil," he corrected, but there was no real bite to his words despite having to repeat himself again. He never repeated himself, yet this morning alone he'd done so twice. "You adore the blue wildflowers that grow along our western borders, but if you smell them for too long, they make you sneeze. During the summer, you set them on the sill in your room and keep the window open so that you might enjoy them without discomfort."

I blinked in surprise. I could vaguely remember a conversation years ago where I'd mentioned the flowers, but it was such a trivial thing that I was quite certain it would've been forgotten by morning. After all, what I did with flowers had no bearing on the fate of the kingdom.

"You prefer your tea sweet but not overly so. When you believe it might rain, you take the precaution of braiding your hair so that the humidity will not render it impossible to untangle when you return home."

The Elvenking began slowly, allowing each small fact that he'd observed about me to sink in along with the realization that he'd favored me with his attention frequently enough to accrue them.

"Your confidence with daggers is low, but with a bow, you are as bold and graceful as any skilled Elleth warrior. When I express my anger at some wretched fool in my court, you often struggle to suppress your laughter at how close they come to wetting themselves in the throne room - do not deny it. Your body gives you away each and every time."

Had he truly seen so much of me during my service to him?

"When your temper is tested, there is a small line that appears just here," he touched a spot between my brows, "that brings me great consternation. On the one hand, I wish to give you my sword so that you may more easily remove the head of whomever has dared incur your wrath, but on the other, I wish to soothe your frustrations with my words, my lips, my body, whatever you will allow–"

"Thranduil–" His name fell from me as no more than a whisper. The leaves on the trees surrounding the path rustled in the breeze, but the Elvenking could not be stopped.

"Your free time is often spent reading. Once a week before you return home, you sneak out to the stables and feed my elk an extra apple, because you find him sweet-tempered. When you laugh, your eyes sparkle brighter than any star ever could, and you steal the breath from my chest each time you look at me."

My vision blurred, and only when my king's thumbs brushed tears from my cheeks did I realize that I was crying. I'd loved him for so long that this felt as surreal as a dream.

"You said that you wish to be loved, meleth-nin. To answer your question, I am doing this because I can give you exactly what you desire. I could love you with my eyes closed, because I have done so with them open since the day you were assigned to my guard."

Thranduil leaned closer, freezing but a hair's breadth from my lips.

"If you do not feel the same, we can remain friends, but if there is the slightest chance that you could find happiness by my side, then marry me. Be my queen. I am yours." His whispered promise was filled with so much tenderness and hope that my restraint snapped, and I closed the distance between our mouths.

My fingers gripped his robes in an attempt to ground myself, but this heady feeling of being wanted - being loved - robbed me of all coherent thought. There was only the feeling of gentle hands drawing me close by my waist and the nape of my neck. Only soft lips kissing me with the skill of thousands of years' worth of experience. Only a king claiming his queen's heart.

There was only love.

~*~

mellon-nin = my friend

aran-nin = my king

meleth-nin = my love

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #Thranduil x Reader

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jyoongim · 2 months

Note

HELLO BEAUTIFUL

who ever requested alastor x reader and asking their dad for something and allie and their dad both respond gave me an idea..

what if you did alastor x reader meeting readers parents it can be fluff or you can somehow make it smut if you like!

or maybe a part two of their idea it was so good ngl..

ANYWHOOSLE IM A BIG FAN KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK

Your parents wanted to meet Alastor.

They had been sending letters, curious about the demon who had their daughter all lovesick.

The very thought made you nervous because well it was Alastor.

Of course he was a gentleman, he doted on you, but your love was a sadistic Overlord.

When you brought it up to the red demon, surprisingly he agreed.

Alastor was elated to meet your folks.

He promised to be on his best behavior.

So you told your parents you’ll see them soon with a visitor in tow.

————————————————————————————

“Oh honey just look at ya! Oh its been too long” your mother exclaimed when she opened the door to reveal you and Alastor. She pulled you into a tight hug, making you sigh at her comforting embrace.

She let y’all in and gushed at Alastor

”Well ain’t you a looker!” She giggled, giving you a sly smile “Dear you shouldn’t hide a face like that” she gave you a nudge, making you blush

”Momma!”

Alastor smiled and held his hand out “Haha why thank you madam. Its nice to finally put a face to the letters ”

Your mother snorted at his formality “Ooh I don’t shake hands c’mere dear!” She grabbed him into a hug.

She ushered the two of you to th living room.

Alastor looked around your home. It was charming and warm, much like you.

”CHARLES GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!” Your mother hollered before offering Alastor any snacks.

Your mother settled beside you “sooo my daughter has eluded us about you, mystery man. Care to tell us about yourself?”

Heavy footsteps raddled the house and a large form entered the living room.

Angry red eyes leered at you.

”Daddy!” You exclaimed happily, running from your seat and embracing the man.

He twirled you around, chuckling “Princess its been too long. Its god to have you home again. Your Ma said you finally brought a man over. So where’s the bastard?”

Your ears flattened as you got shy. Your mother sucked her teeth, rolling her eyes “Use ya eyes. This look like a bastard to you?” She gestured to Alastor who rose and approached your father.

Your father was tall and intimidating, but Alastor wasn’t fazed.

He stuck his hand out “Pleasure to meet you sir, simply a pleasure.”

Your father let out a growl and took his hand, gripping it tightly.

He glared “White or dark?”

Alastor cocked his head “Liquor sir?”

”You can tell a lot about a man by his choice of drink. White or dark?”

Alastor coolly responded “Dark. Whiskey preferably. But I’m not against the taste of scotch or brandy”

Your father let out a hearty laugh that boomed through the house. He turned to you “Good choice dear”

Once all settled, you decided to answer some questions (your mother’s)

You told them how the two of you met and how the Overlord was relentless in courting you. You even talked about the hotel business and how Alastor supported you.

Your father took a sip of his liquor ”A Overlord huh? Hmmm”

Your mother preened “dark and handsome oh my”

You had relaxed against Alastor, your chest brimming with affection as your parents chatted with the demon.

A large hand intertwined your fingers, snapping you back to reality.

You turned to Alastor, who was looking at you affectionately. He brought your hand to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

”Your daughter had my heart the moment I laid eyes on her. I am truly a lucky man to have such a gem at my side”

Your lip wobbled and you heard your mother coo.

”Well I couldn’t imagine anyone else worthy of her. Treat her well now or else” your father’s horn flared in warning.

You all laughed.

Your mother suggested you stay for dinner.

The two of you prepped the meal, while your father took Alastor out back to show off his guns.

You were elbow deep in dough when you heard your mother speak

”So when’s the wedding?”

Your cheeks burned “wedding? Momma we’re in Hell. Do we really need a wedding?”

She shot you a look “girl you hit the gold mine you gotta secure him quick”

Soft static greeted your ears as your father and Alastor entered the kitchen. Your father was grinning “Good aim on this one! Imma have to borrow him on my hunts. Ha what’s you say son?”

Son. Your daddy had acknowledged Alastor as his son-in-law.

Alastor chuckled “i would love to. Its been a while since I let loose”

Your father ushered him away, going on about different guns and techniques used in hunting.

———————————————————————————-

You hugged your mother and father as you stood on the porch ready to leave.

”Oh do you have to go so soon?” Your mother pouted, making your father rub her shoulder. You smiled, looping your arm with Alastor’s. Alastor answered “I’m sure we will see you soon. After all I would love to see you lively folks at the wedding”

Your mother squealed as you looked at Alastor in shock

”Al?”

He chuckled “Your father gave me his blessing when he shot me”

Your whipped your head to your father “”Daddy!”

The man shrugged “had to test his devotion. I’m not just gonna let anyone marry my princess. He can take a few bullets if he love you”

You shook your head and waved them goodbye as you departed.

Alastor was humming as you walked back to the hotel.

”Your folks are a lively bunch dear! I see. I see you get your charm from” he chuckled.

You laughed “you’re lucky. Daddy ate the last man I brought over”

Alastor leaned to press a kiss to your forehead, lacing his fingers with yours

”Good thing I shot him first then”

——————————————————————————————

This is my 100th request!!!!

THANK YOU FOR 2K!!! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING AND I NEVER GET TIRED OF INTERACTING WITH EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!!!!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor the radio demon #alastor x y/n #alastor smut #Alastor fluff #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel fandom #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff

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becomingmina · 6 months

Text

FUCKBOY MIN 2. little series w/ LEEKNOW + HYUNJIN

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: hwang hyunjin x female reader x lee minho genre + warnings: slight angst wc: 3.5k mina's note: I really enjoyed writing this. Sorry it took a while! This part was was like a filler, I know.

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

series chapter ➵ part one, part three ending one

“You done crying yet or?” Hyunjin jokes after watching over you for the past thirty minutes. He was in the drivers seat handing out countless tissues to you, who was in his passenger’s.

“Hyunjin, stop,” you crack up at his teasing. You were done crying now, you just weren’t done being upset yet. A heavy feeling still lingering around your shoulders as you try your best to block out Minho’s words circulating in your head.

“Are you still not going to tell me what he said to you in the bathroom?” A hand comes to wipe away the last of your tears, his tone gentler now.

Hyunjin can see the marks on your neck, anyone can. He can tell what happened in the bathroom and he knows Minho must’ve said something to overwhelmed you to cry, but he just doesn’t know what exactly.

“I don’t want to re-live it Hyunjin,” you couldn’t tell him. You didn’t want to tell him that you said the L word to Minho within the same month you got rejected by him. Hyunjin could never judge you for that but how can you tell him without telling the whole thing, how it was forced out of you. Dirty? Dirty because of Hyunjin? The words repeats again, haunting you. Hyunjin was involved in Minho’s mean and hurtful words and you feel guilty. Hyunjin did absolutely nothing wrong, he didn’t deserved to be dragged into whatever mess was going on between you and Minho.

“Why? Is it because you might cry again?” He playfully says, not wanting you to feel downhearted at your own actions. He lets out a giggle after observing how you quickly pierced your eyes at him sassily - something you picked up from him. It doesn't matter what situation you're in, Hyunjin always makes it light hearted. He's so playful but in a way where he is still careful and you never fail to warm up to him. Just like this moment.

“I just got my heart broken by the city’s fuckboy, I don’t need the city’s heartbreaker to feed into it,” you chuckle and he follows with furrowed brows, unable to keep a straight face at the names.

“Those names are crazy Y/N,” he remarks.

“I actually don’t think you’re a heartbreaker Hyunjin, it’s just what everyone calls you,” you reassured him, hand finding his to give him a tight squeeze.

"I probably am one," he held yours back tighter, letting you know he didn’t take it to heart. "I'm curious though," he continues .

“Hmm?”

“Curious to why the city’s fuckboy keeps yelling at you,” you eyed him again, arms crossed this time with a fake pout. “Or is it that you’re just a cry baby?” he laughs but he was serious though, he wanted to see why Minho keeps leaving you in tears.

“I’m not a cry baby,” you defend yourself. “You’re probably tired of me crying hey? I know how to smile too!” To be fair, you were kind of a cry baby especially as this is the second time he has picked you up and wiped away your tears, all within a month.

“Wait, can you actually?” he continues.

“I’m actually really sweet Hyunjin, I promise!”

“How about the city’s heartbreaker takes you out one day?” The tension from the incident with Minho start to disappear as Hyunjin slowly soothes it, directing your attention somewhere else - something he is very good at.

“Hmm?” brows furrowed together. His question had taken you by surprise, you were unsure if he was serious. “Like on a date?” You clarified.

“Mhmm,” he confirmed. “So you can show me how sweet you can be and that you’re not just a cry baby.” He already knows how sweet you are. Last couple of weeks you guys spent together talking about everything and nothings have really shown him what type of person you are. You were caring, cheerful, playful. You loved to tease, loves to be teased and takes on jokes like a champ. You were just full of laughter and happiness and meeting someone like you is hard for Hyunjin. It seems that he has developed a soft spot for you, but unlike Minho he isn’t afraid to show you.

You just giggle back, unaware of the thoughts going through Hyunjin’s head, everything falling into silence right after.

Hyunjin is a lovely person and you hate to say yes just to distract yourself from Minho. But Hyunjin has that effect on you, where he has made you forgot about Minho whenever you’re with him. You don’t know how to explain it. Like earlier tonight before all of this, when you went with him to the party, you had zero care for anyone and anything besides Hyunjin and wine. Or like right now, Minho was slowly fading away in your head. If you give him a chance, maybe he’ll be better than Minho. He always was, seeing as he was the one who was here, unlike Minho who didn’t even chase after you.

“Hyune?”

“Hmm?”

“A date with you sounds cool,” your silly smile returning. He couldn’t control his smile back, his eyes turning into thin lines as his upper lips disappears a little showing his white pearlys.

The man who broke your heart an hour ago long forgotten, in moments like this.

“You okay hyung?” Han asks, after observing Minho for the past hour just downing his drinks.

“Yeah.. Good.. I’m good.” Minho could barely reply, slurring on his words clearly intoxicated.

“What happened in the bathroom? What did you do to her?” Han was worried about you both. He still doesn't understand what you did to get Minho to push you away like that, especially when Minho would used to reschedule his plans with Han and their friend group just to be with you. It was clear to Han that you guys had something going on. Minho wasn’t much of a drinker too but seeing him suddenly finish all these drinks made Han sense something was up.

“Nothing, I just.. Nothing just shooed her away like usual,” Minho replied, acting uninterested in the conversation.

“Marks on your neck tells me otherwise,” Han replied back, eyeing up at his hyung. Minho doesn’t reply, instead he stays quiet, one hand coming into contact with the marks you left on his skin. His head is in a daze, the scene of you pressing kisses to his neck, how soft your plump lips felt, your tiny hands holding the back of his neck to keep him in place while the other was wrapped around his..

“Hyung? Hey hyung?” Han snaps the older man out of his thoughts, holding him by the shoulder trying to steady him. “She’s a good girl. If you don’t like her don’t do that to her.”

“She gave me the marks Jisung.. I didn’t do anything to her,” Minho huffed, trying to defend himself.

“Sure, it’s not like she didn’t walk out of the bathroom with marks herself,” Minho just rolls his eyes. “If you don’t like her like that, stop hurting her.”

“Looks like you also want to fuck her, seeing as how you’re talking about her-”

“-Just because I feel sorry for her doesn’t mean I want to fuck her, hyung. No girl should be treated like that,”

“Whatever,” Minho pushes the smaller boy’s arms off his shoulders making him stumble back a bit.

“See how you act? You’re a dick. How is it that every other girl gets let off easily when they admit they like you and when Y/N does it she gets yelled at?” Han was over his hyung’s antics, also fuming from the way he was pushed even though he was only trying to help him up.

“Last month you pushed her away then tonight you’re all over her again just because she’s with someone else. You’re so possessive. What did you do to her in the bathroom?!” Han has never called Minho out like this but the way Minho acted was very possessive. It was like he hates seeing other people interested or talk about things that was his. In this instance, you.

“I don’t know,” as much as he hates to admit it, your words engraved itself to his brain. He couldn’t come up with a reason why he treated you the way he did tonight or ever. Just the words I love you bouncing in his head, hitting every surface of his brain. Did he like you back? He’s not in-love with you right? Or was he just possessive over you? Did he want you to himself only? Minho was overwhelmed with his thoughts, unable to voice anything else, eyes just seeking some sort of help from the younger boy.

“You okay hyung?”

“No.”

A couple weeks go by and Minho catches himself thinking about you every second pf his day. He doesn’t know how to make it stop. He contacted so many girl just to ghost them before they meet up as he has this feeling of guilt. Not towards the girls, they don’t mean anything to him but guilt towards you. It was like he was doing something wrong to you. But you weren’t even his and he doesn’t even like you back. He has just be constantly in and out, and his friends aren’t any help either. Well to be fair, he’s only been keeping his thoughts to himself so it’s not really his friend’s fault. But you and Hyunjin has been the topic of the week, updates of where you guys went or what you guys did was brought up every single day in conversation.. well ofcourse it would, seeing as how Hyunjin and Minho shares mutual friends.

“You think he really likes her?” Felix asks the others.

“Yeah, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have come with her to the party the other week,” Chan clarified and they nod in agreement.

“Why wonder we haven’t seen him all of last month, he was with Y/N.”

Minho listens to the conversation, quietly contributing and attacking Hyunjin in his head. Yeah but she doesn’t like him. She clearly loves someone else.

“Wasn’t she one of your flings?” Chan’s question wakes Minho up.

“Hmm? Y/N?” Your name comes out more tender than expected from his lips. “I don’t remember,” Minho lies.

“Anyways, I reckon the photo he took of her from earlier this week was cute,” Seungmin says, the rest giggling like high school girls at their friends love life.

“Looks like the heartbreaker Hyunjin found someone he really likes.”

“And Y/N seems to really like him too,” Minho was furious, wanting to tell them what the reality was but even himself wasn’t sure if it was true anymore. Maybe you have fallen for Hyunjin. Maybe you have forgotten all about Minho now.

He looks to his side, watching Felix swipe through Hyunjin’s instagram story. It was the first time he saw you since. You were as pretty as ever. Hair in a half up half down look, in a black dress looking and smiling at Hyunjin’s camera.

Hyunjin had taken you out to one of his favourite bakery and art museum. He had told you to wear something pretty, and be ready by noon. You got dolled up, picking out your most gorgeous dress and by the time he promised, he messaged you to come outside. Hyunjin was lean up against his car, his camera strap across his body, a small bouquet in his hand. It was something you never experienced before, you couldn’t help but smile instantly at the sight. Oh how sweet he was, and definitely very handsome.

“You look like you can be very sweet, Y/N,” he playfully says before pulling you into a hug. You hold him back, arms wrapping around his body pressing your cheeks against his toned chest, staying there a little bit longer than you extended.

“Ready to go?” He asks, and you remove yourself.

“Mhmm, ready to go and ready to show you I can be sweet!” The conversation you had with yourself, a couple days ago still implanted in your head. You will give it a try with Hyunjin. He has always treated you well, despite his title he received from everyone, but a little part of you is afraid. Minho treated you well too, but turned his back on you the second you liked him. You were afraid you were going to fall for it again. Hyunjin could never make you fall for him then ditch you right? But to be honest, has Minho ever picked you up in broad day light like this? No. You guys would sneak around all the time, and was only ever relaxed in a closed off area - that being his house. Minho has never planned a date this. But did your heart wanted that more than this? A unlike tingling heavy feeling fallen in your chest, the feeling is different.

As Felix continues to tap his screen, more images of the date appears. You guys spend a while in the coffee shop just goofing around with each other, then at the art museum.. Oh the art museum.. countless photos of you standing infront of and looking at the art works makes Minho go red.

“Fuck-” Minho bites, fist forming into balls as he feels his blood boiling. Minho was angry now, he was jealous. He didn’t ever show you off like this and was mad someone was able to do.

“Gotta go, gotta go call Bella,” Minho walks out, everyone else looking around trying to seek a reason why he was acting like that.

It was dark and late, 9pm to be exact. Silence fill the air as you and Hyunjin both just sit in his car. You shyly glance over to him, unsure of what to do now, he just gives you a smile. You really enjoyed your day with him, it was fun and quite the romantic day. But do you invite him in now? Do you take it slow? What would you do if you invite him in anyways?

"I enjoyed today with you too Hyune," you break the silence. "I'm actually really tried from everything though" you lie, you needed to distant yourself for the rest of the night, to work out what you were feeling. You needed to take it slow. The tingling sensation before was still around you, a feeling you can't explain. "I think I might start ready for bed," you observe his reactions, but there is none. Just him keeping a small smile like earlier.

"We did so much today, I’m tired and ready for bed too," he agrees, one hand reaches over to hold yours. He was so soft, it's like he knows the barrier you had set up. He doesn't questions it and just lets it be.

"Thank you Hyune," you reply, twisting your wrist so your fingers can interlock with his now, giving him some sort of affirmation. You lean in towards him and ahe air grows a bit cold now. You had to do it, to show your gratitude. You continue to move in, giving him a peck to his cheeks. Hyunjin freezes in return, the sudden affection makes him flustered. "Goodnight Hyune." You retracted back your hand, collecting your stuff, along with your nice bouquet of flowers and exiting his car.

It was clear to Hyunjin after the peck that he liked you. He really liked you but he was still unsure of where your feelings stands. Regardless, he wanted to keep trying with you.

You were in the middle of the dance floor, to the grand party that Hyunjin asked you to be his date at. Well technically, you were invited by Minho's mum but you can't turn down a cute date with Hyunjin.

“Where are you?” You ask on the phone, eyes searching for a lost Hyunjin. He has disappeared from your sight so suddenly after you guys had spend a hour of drinking the free wine.

“At the table we were before," you can hear him slurring on his words, unable to keep your giggles in at how tipsy he is.

“Okay, coming! Stay where you are," as you turn around someone pulls you back, making you stumble a bit forward into them.

“Can I talk to you?” You encounter a familiar face. Minho was standing in front of you, his hand gripping your wrist not painfully but strong enough for you not to pull back. Your eyes scan his face. He looked so different. He had his hair down covering his forehead, something he never wears out in public. His eyes were coated with a thin cover of gloss, almost looks like he had been draining in his emotions for the longest time ever. Minho looked so soft, you were taken back.

“I gotta go. Hyune’s waiting for me,” you reply trying to pull away from him. You needed to avoid Minho, unsure why but you had too.

“Hyune?”

“Yes, Hyune,” you managed to escape and walked off, only because he loosen his grip. Minho was left on the middle of the dance floor, watching you make your way through the crowd.

“Hyune?” He whispers to himself, confused. A nickname already? Maybe the boys were right.

You don’t know why but a sudden urge to spin around got the best of you.

“Hey Min!” The nickname makes him instantly turn around but he knows it wasn’t going to be you standing there, so he prepared himself for whoever was there.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” he lied to the gorgeous woman infront of him, Bella.

You watch as Minho smile at her, his hand coming in contact with her cheek. You spun around again, not wanting to watch any more of what he got up to, going back to Hyunjin.

The music was blaring now and you feel yourself getting light headed from the countless shots and mimosas you consumed. You lean into Hyunjin’s chest, wanting to stay still for a minute to regain control of your body.

Minho doesn't know how he got here but there he stood a couple steps infront of you, watching you with Hyunjin. He has Bella in-front of him holding his hands as she sways to the music, seeking for his attention.

“Hey, I’m losing you here Y/N,” Hyunjin laughs, although him himself was feeling the same thing. He had to control it, he couldn’t let you both loose to alcohol.

“I’m so tired Hyune,” you replied, unable to move your head from his upper chest.

“You wanna go sit down?” He asked, hands coming to your waist to help hold you up. The small contact with your body makes you widen your eyes. You steady yourself back on your heels as you make eye contact with the sweet boy in front you. Your eyes catch his lips for a second, they were so plump, so full and the perfect shade of pink, almost a reddish. A thought ran through your head and you feel guilty about it but you wanted to do it. You want to feel his lips on yours to confirm that feeling that keeps staying around in your chest. His eyes flutter from your eyes to your lips. You looked so pretty like this, your cheeks was pink, eyes looks so bright and full, you were so kissable. Hyunjin slowly leans in, one had holding your face and when he doesn’t see a signal of you avoiding it, he closes the gap between your lips.

Minho’s heart sinks watching Hyunjin kiss you. He has always been possessive of you, hating when your attention is on another person. He has always been annoyed, always been angry but right now, he feels broken, he feels hurt. He didn’t come here with Bella because he liked her. He came here with Bella because he wanted to use her as a distraction. He wanted to use her to get over you. He doesn’t realise it until now, after witnessing the kiss, that since the night you confessed your feelings to him, he felt the same. He felt the same but he was too afraid to say it, to show it. Liking someone was overwhelming, let alone loving someone. Minho was just afraid.

The feeling doesn’t go away, it’s heavy it’s numbing your body. You pull away from Hyunjin’s lips, hands on his chest to help you detach. You can’t keep his eye contact, letting out a heavy breath.

“Hyune, I..” you look up over his shoulder and catches Minho eyes as he towers over Bella. Minho stops to observe you, observing your next move. For a second the world stops, everyone’s face was blurred, the music goes from blaring loud to a long beep, something you hear when your brain restarts similar to the sound in movies when the main character watches someone close to them die. It was only you and Minho.

{Tag list 🏷️@20minsat180dgegrees : @feybin : @whosanaanyway : @k0nst3nceee : @hoes4lino : @ihatewritingshit : @armystay89 : @redstayrosie : @captainchrisstan }

#becomingmina #lee know angst #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #skz #skz request #Lee Minho #lee minho angst

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politemenacephd · 5 days

Text

Hunger

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader (+18)

You're alone with your new boss Miguel in his office, and you decide to finally ask a question you've been harboring for a while: Is he really a vampire?

CW/Content: Description of blood, Miguel has a blood-drinking/cannibalism fetish, Mutual masturbation, messy kissing, consensual kink, dirty talk, hand job/clitoral stimulation. Notes: hiiii I'm back finally, back to writing anyway, life beat me half to death but I'm back and I'm horny. hope yall enjoy

‘Are you really a vampire, boss?’

Miguel flinched, his enormous body going rigid midway through typing. He’d been about to send a message to Lyla when that question was asked, but now suddenly all of his iron-tight focus was gone. With narrowed eyes he turned and glanced down at you, the person who’d asked such an odd question out of nowhere.

‘Am… Am I a really a vampire? Is that what you just asked me?’ he replied back in a cool, slightly cold voice.

You were both up on his floating desk, with you dangling your legs over the side into the gloomy abyss below while he basked in the warm, orange light of his desk monitors. While he turned to glance down at you, you didn’t return the favor, and continued to stare at the slightly misty darkness below.

‘That’s what I asked boss, that is correct’ you replied.

Miguel grunted, his lip curling ever so slightly. He was trying to be polite, he really was, but he was regretting more and more letting Lyla hire someone to help out with the mundane chores around his office. Maybe if she’d just hired someone… quieter… this wouldn’t be such a hassle, but instead, he was stuck with you.

When you beamed up at him again, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘No puedo más’, he hissed under his breath, ‘no! No, I’m not a vampire.’ He was trying to speak diplomatically but the intensity in his voice remained, that sharp authoritative bark that usually made people listen.

‘It’s not an issue if you are, I don’t mind’ you said cheerily.

I don’t believe you, Miguel thought to himself, though he didn’t say it.

‘Oh, good. Great. Well, I’ll keep that in mind if we ever do become a real vampire, won’t I?’ Miguel replied in that slightly sarcastic tone.

‘Boss, I’m serious’ you said again, lightly rolling your shoulders as you lay back down across the floor of his floating desk. You could see his body above you, so lean and powerful, and yet you showed no fear or concern.

‘I’m just… curious’ you continued. ‘I’ve heard the other newer members saying it, and, you know. It’s an odd rumor if true.’

‘Who did you hear saying such things?’

His sharp tone made you flinch, and you awkwardly hunched your shoulders. ‘Uh- just, a few people’ you said, not wishing to snitch anyone out. ‘They mentioned it a few times, enough times for me to think it wasn’t just a joke. So, I wanted to ask. That’s all.’

‘Eso es ridículo… No, I’m not a vampire’ Miguel finally grunted, his sharp features glowing in the light of his monitors. ‘I have fangs, and red eyes, but not- that’s not because I’m a vampire.’

‘So, what did cause that?’ you piped up. ‘The uh- fangs, and stuff. Because nobody else here has those traits, right?’

Miguel’s eye twitched as he strained to be polite. ‘I was mutated with a spider. That’s why. No vampirism, nothing supernatural, just… spider.’

‘Riiggghhtt, but… Spiders are cannibals, right? Quite famously’ you replied smoothly. He hissed, his head spinning until you caught just a glimpse of his eye. It was burning red, almost glowing.

‘What do you- can we please stop this?’ he snapped.

You flinched only a little at his sharp retort. He was usually polite, and restrained, even when irritated, but that sudden burst of anger betrayed something more serious. You slowly raised your hands. ‘Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Really, I’m- sorry.’

Miguel curtly nodded and returned to his desk, but now he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t get it off his mind.

Could you tell? Could you somehow see his deepest, grossest inner thoughts? The thoughts he hated?

The instincts that made him salivate at the thought of soft flesh in his mouth, of licking the sweat aside and smearing the skin with venom to numb it, so their breath wouldn’t catch, so they wouldn’t scream, so he could feel that soft skin puncture and give way to his fangs, letting him in, letting him deep inside, filling his mouth with—

‘Boss?’

Miguel blinked himself back to reality. He glanced down; he’d gotten so carried away he’d sunk his claws into his desk, piercing right through the metal. He slowly retracted them.

Another reminder that he wasn’t human, he thought sourly.

But you didn’t scream or look at him in disgust. That’s what he was used to. Instead, you looked genuinely concerned. ‘Boss, hey, look I didn’t- I didn’t wanna upset you’ you said, keeping a low voice. ‘I was genuinely asking before, not in like a morbidly curious way, I just… I don’t know. I wanted to be, considerate, if that was the case. I wasn’t trying to be cruel.’

Miguel scowled. ‘Calling it a… vampire thing, or, implying I am a vampire, that… How is that not going to come across as cruel?’

‘Well vampire isn’t necessarily a bad thing’ you argued back, ‘I didn’t mean it like—’

His cold, sharp stare drew you to silence, and you pursed your lips.

‘No, you’re right. You’re right! You are, I’m- I’m sorry. I am, really.’

Miguel stared down at you as you apologized. His lip was still curled a little, his brows knotted, but they started to loosen when he saw the sincerity in your expression.

‘… I’m, not used to anyone not being morbidly curious’ he muttered quietly. ‘Or, disgusted, or afraid, or—’

‘Jesus! No, I’m not disgusted or afraid. I mean look! I’m here, on your platform, no escape. Eh? That’d be a weird thing for me to do if I thought you were an evil bloodthirsty beast.’

Your cheery tone and smile faded a little as he shot you another disapproving look, but this time he didn’t snap or turn away. Instead, he coughed into his fist, and began a very curt explanation.

‘Hm. Look, I was mutated with a spider, physically, and it… gave me some, unusual traits. More, primal traits, I guess. I’m not some rabid animal though.’

‘I know, I know. I never said rabid’ you replied, suddenly very eager that Miguel was actually responding. ‘Just… Do you, need to engage in certain types of, ‘consumption’ so to speak?’ you asked softly.

‘I don’t… Need to, I don’t think’ he muttered back, awkwardly swiping a few holograms aside. ‘But, it- the rumors come from the fact that, it gives me some… Urges.’

You nodded along slowly, trying desperately to manage your growing excitement. Yes, yes, urges. Urges. That’s why you were here.

‘Hm… Do you, get the urge to eat people, then? Or is that an unfair rumor?’ you asked, trying to keep it light and polite as you buried your desires down.

Miguel grunted softly. ‘… Sort of’ he murmured. ‘My instinct goes against my better nature, sometimes. So, I try to… keep them in balance.’

‘How so?’

Miguel swallowed. He shouldn’t be talking about this.

‘I, uh… I desire, certain, non-lethal things’ he murmured, speaking as stiffly and awkwardly as possible to cover up how he felt.

But you just kept pushing. You wanted more.

‘Right… So, for example… Biting?’ you said, whispering that last word ever so softly.

Just the word made Miguel almost involuntarily hiss. His spine arched by an inch and his hand balled itself into a fist as he fought to maintain control, to not act on his awful desire and snap his teeth and imagine that soft, soft, sweet neck in his maw-

‘R-Right. Yeah. Biting. You could say, biting is, appealing. But- I believe most, adults find some level of biting attractive’ he argued back.

‘Sure… Sure, I’d agree with that’ you murmured, your voice involuntarily slipping. You’d seen his slip, his flash of a fang, and now you wanted more. ‘I’d agree with that… But, some people are into, more, than just biting.’

Miguel tried so hard to not be obvious as his dark, glowering eyes moved down towards your body. The way you were sitting, the way you coyly arched your head to stare at the distant floor so you didn’t make eye contact

Were you… flirting? Was HE flirting?

‘Do they?’ Miguel murmured, slowly unbaling his fists. You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head, like a mouse finally sensing a cat in the shadows, and the fear was exactly what you’d hoped it would be.

This was delicious. This was ecstasy.

‘Y-Yeah’ you replied softly, letting your voice deliberately drop. You heard his curious little grunt in response.

‘And what do you mean by that, exactly?’ he replied, his voice slow and sharp. You heard his accent slip out a little, as if he was holding something back. You swallowed hard.

‘Some people… Might be, interested, in your traits’ you replied.

‘How so?’

His persistent, sharp questions made your gut do flips every single time. He could almost smell your primal response, but he wanted more.

‘Some people… Might enjoy the idea of being bitten, like you said, just as much as you enjoy doing it.’

‘I never said I enjoy it.’

Your fists tightened on the edge of the floating office, as you forced your next statement out.

‘No… No, but, I also never asked’ you murmured.

The two of you went silent then, with nothing to fill the void but the slow dripping of water somewhere in the enormous cavern of his office.

‘… Do you enjoy biting?’ you asked after a minute or so. Miguel narrowed his eyes, but you caught him slowly licking his upper lip.

‘… Yes.’

You hid the instinctive shudder that went up your spine at that curt response, and instead asked another question. Keep going. Keep going. You’re so close.

‘Do you, like the idea of drinking blood?’

Miguel shivered as he came to stand behind you, his arms folded over his chest. He stared down at your head, breathing in that sweet scent. It took all his inner strength to now bend down and huff your nape.

‘Yes’ he replied softly. ‘I do.’

‘Do you have, preferences, for blood? Does some taste better than others?’

He managed to chuckle at that.

‘Yes. I’d say so.’

‘… Do you think I’d taste good?’

That question hung in the air like a physical weight, hot and heavy and thick. Miguel felt his muscles tense. He was like a cat in the long grass, instinctively crouching as it smelled the potential of prey.

Slowly he turned and glanced down at you, your body still perfectly perched on the rim of his floating office. You met his gaze without fear. You looked coy, perhaps, but… not afraid. You weren’t joking either.

He’d felt his own prey drive before, but he’d never seen his prey sitting, staring, meeting him with equally hungry eyes.

You watched Miguel lick his lower lip, flashing just an inch of fang. His keen senses picked up the way your body shivered at the sight. ‘…Oh, yes’ he whispered. ‘I think you would. I’d- need to smell you first though.’

Stop. Stop, what are you doing?! His brain screamed at him to withdraw, to cough and dismiss what he’d said as a bad joke, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when you shivered like that.

‘… You wanna smell?’ you murmured back, idly tilting your neck. He saw the soft gleam of your bare skin and had to swallow down his increased saliva.

‘… This is, incredibly unprofessional’ he whispered back. God, his voice was so deep. He sounded tortured.

‘I’m aware’ you replied in the same soft, tender voice. You were speaking like someone talking down an angry animal. ‘We can always stop, if you want. But the offer is on the table.’

Miguel was still only for a moment. As his resolve crumbled, he dropped to his knees beside you, his hand outstretched and his head tilted as he silently requested your cooperation. You obliged.

You bent your neck and tilted it to the side, giving him access to the fine hairs on your nape. You couldn’t help your breath hitching as you sensed his size at your back. Those glowing red eyes, the way he had to look down at you even on his knees.

He kept his eyes fixed on your own for as long as he could while leaning in, letting you see his intent right up until the warmth of his breath hit your neck. You shuddered, and in response, he purred.

You felt the tip of his nose hit your nape, and with a soft growl, he breathed in.

And then he moaned.

You shivered openly at the sound. It was deep, guttural, fully instinctual, and it only got worse when he saw your body respond. You felt his nose sliding up your neck and into your hair as his lips found your skin; they were full and warm, slightly rough on your soft flesh.

He paused there, huffing your hair, his eyes open just a slither to see how you responded. When you remained still, your lips parted and your own moan just barely tittering on your lips, he moved again.

He licked you. His large, flat tongue just barely flicked at your nape, tasting your flavor profile through the sweat beading on your skin, and he growled with approval.

‘Mm… Qué rico’ he whispered against your ear. ‘Yeah. You’d taste good. Real good… So, rich. I bet your blood is, thick.’

In that moment he lost any resolve he’d been trying to maintain, and he indulged. He whispered those filthy forbidden words against your skin between breathy kisses, and you took it all.

‘Mm… So thick… I bet if I pierced here, I wouldn’t even need to suck. Hng… y-yeah. Yeah, it’d just, slide down my throat, so warm, so sweet’ he moaned.

‘Y-You just, wanna bite my neck?’ you whimpered. ‘Nothing else?’

‘Oh I’d bite everything’ he groaned. ‘Every little bit… But the neck, that’s my favorite. I want to feel your pulse, I want to feel you squirming. Mm…’

‘Y-You want me to squirm?’

‘Maybe just a little’ he cooed, almost crooning a little as he kissed your jaw. ‘But I want you to savor it. I want you soft, and still, and moaning. God, I want to feel that moan in your throat when I bite it. I want to taste it…’

‘Would you, rip it all out? Get too, frisky with it?’ you moaned back, your voice shaking with excitement.

‘Oh, I’d love to’ he hissed, another low groan echoing in his thick throat. ‘I’d tear into you like butter. It’d be too easy… Too easy… Just one, good bite, and you’d be nothing but flesh in my mouth. I’d have to drink you fast You’d be all mine, all mine.’

You let out a soft whimper and tried to turn, trying to face him, to see him.

‘Yes, please—’

You jolted to a stop as he grasped your nape, refusing to let you turn. He couldn’t allow it, at least, not now. He couldn’t let you see that he was rock hard, his erect cock straining almost painfully against his suit where he was trying to suppress it.

The smell, the softness, the taste… he couldn’t help it. He told himself he just couldn’t help it. Not when you moaned like that.

‘Shh…’

He held you steady, gripping your skin like a cat holding a kitten, and slowly he began to scent you again. He peppered kisses up and down your neck.

‘Mm… Shh, that’s it. That’s what you wanted, right, you little brat?’ he purred. ‘You just wanted to rile me up to get some—’

‘Would you… Would you eat me all at once?’ you blurted.

Miguel paused only briefly to glance at you, realizing that you wanted to keep going. You wanted to go further, not just with the physical play, but with the talk of eating. He felt almost a flicker of pride. He thought you’d drop his strange fetish the moment you got a little taste of his strength, his body, as everyone else did, but you… no. You really were different.

‘Oh, no, mi tesoro’ he whispered right into your ear. ‘No, no. I could. But that’d be a waste. You’re far too precious.’

You whined as he began sliding his tongue around the ridge beneath your ear, sliding up and then down to your neck, peppering kisses as he went. ‘I’d… I’d keep you going for as long as I could. My own little personal blood bank. I’d keep you in my private quarters, I think, and I’d chain you up above my bed, to keep the blood flowing, and… Oh, I’d indulge. I’d indulge in you. I’d drink from you until you were right on the verge of passing out, and then I’d let you recover, and then I’d do it again. Like you’re my cow, my little broodmare, my delicious little pet.’

At his response, you could hold back no longer. With no regard for professionalism you slid your hand down to your painfully swollen clit, still covered by your pants, and you circled it with one finger.

Miguel’s eyes widened so hard that the red glow began to reflect on your bare shoulder, drawing your gaze back to him. You locked eyes.

Miguel didn’t dare blink. He stared at your face, then your hand, then your barely covered crotch, then your eyes again. Your eyes moved from his face to his crotch, to the thick mass twitching beneath his suit. A low, barely discernible breath escaped his parted lips.

‘…’

He raised his hand, and in front of your eyes, he grasped his own shaft, giving it a small, teasing stroke.

‘Slowly’ he whispered in that dark, husky voice. ‘Slowly… Eat you, slowly.’

‘Skin, and bone, and blood’ you whined back.

He groaned, hard, and you saw his cock fully twitch in his hand. With no resolve left he pressed to phase away his suit at the groin, allowing his hefty cock to fall free.

‘Skin and bone and blood and all.’

He hissed those words back as he fisted his own shaft in front of you. It was thick and curved, notably veiny, and you could see he was already profusely leaking. Either he was an extremely virile man or a pent-up one, and both thoughts excited you.

With a heavy breath you continued gently playing with yourself, letting him watch as his hard, calloused hand worked his girth back and forth.

‘Y-You could eat little pieces of me too’ you whimpered. ‘A finger, o-or my foot—’

‘Mm, foot. That’d be so greedy’ he moaned. His cock throbbed in your delicate grip. ‘Mm… I’d eat little pieces until you couldn’t escape me…’

‘W-Why would I ever want to escape?’

‘Oh, right. Right.’ Miguel purred as he spoke, suddenly fixing you with a slightly cocky, eerie smirk, flashing his fangs your way. He leaned in and watched as you melted.

‘You want this, right? You want that perfect, pretty body in my maw.’

You shuddered and moaned right against his face. As he continued to pant, as his lips parted to flash those thick, pearly canines, you leaned in and coyly let your tongue slip out. He released a low, curious growl in response, as if unsure of what you wanted.

He leaned closer, always moving slowly, and gently nipped your tongue with his fangs. A single, pearly drop of blood formed, causing him to groan. You moaned in response, but you weren’t satisfied with just that.

Instead, you leaned in closer too, and gently licked his fang. You ran your tongue along the smooth surface before coiling around to the curved underside of the tooth, licking at his slightly swollen venom glands until a little bit leaked out.

His eyes were wide as he felt you massaging him, milking him like a snake, taking those little drops and swallowing them down your gullet

It wasn’t enough to paralyze you, just enough to make you feel a little woozy and lightheaded. It tingled a little in your toes. It felt warm. You drank more.

‘Mmm…’

Miguel watched for as long as he could before he was forced to break. Just the sight of you swallowing his venom, so soft and submissive, was almost enough to make him bust right then and there. He had to release his shaft to avoid stimulating himself too far.

‘Mm… mm…’

With a soft shudder his eyes closed, and he widened his jaw to let you in deeper. You obliged.

You continued like this, panting into each other’s mouths, your eyes both reflecting the same shared fantasy: one where you weren’t co-workers, one where you weren’t bound by appearances, where he could grab you by the nape and claw you body back up to his apartment where he’d fuck and lick and bite until you were barely coherent.

When you withdrew it was only because you were too close to orgasming, and you refused to stop the fun this quickly. Who knew when you’d get the chance again? So instead, you kept indulging.

‘W-What would be your favorite part to eat?’

Miguel almost purred at the thought, his tongue now eagerly tasting the saliva you’d left on his fang.

‘Mm… Your thighs’ he murmured dreamily. ‘Oh, I bet they’re delicious. So, soft, so… full. So rich. I couldn’t even save them for last. I’d eat them first…’

Without giving you a chance to reply he kissed you. You squeaked at first but quickly conceded, letting his rough, heavy lips crash into your own.

‘Taste so- fucking good, ah, mierda, muy rico’ he hissed between kisses, ‘me encanta, mm… tan suave.’

He gave you a few more hard, passionate kisses before grabbing your jaw and yanking it open, holding your lips open so his tongue could slip in. He was fisting his cock furiously now, with his tongue tasting every inch of your mouth and his claws digging into your skin. You just lay back and took it, feeling your climax growing closer and closer with every touch.

‘Mmm! Mm, so f-fucking good.’

When Miguel finally pulled back he was panting, and his lip was red. He’d bitten your lip so hard it’d started to bleed, and now he was almost angrily licking it up.

‘Mmm, yeah…’

His full tongue fell out and lapped at your neck, leaving a long, wet trail of saliva and venom across the skin.

‘Estás riquísimo, mm… te quiero.’

You didn’t even need to speak. It was like you both knew what the other wanted. Without words you swapped hands, with your fingers grasping his bare cock while his slid down your work pants and found your clit.

You both fell down onto the floor of his office and began to stroke the other, frantically pumping and circling as you both swelled and throbbed in near unison.

‘That’s it, that’s it. J-Just, think about my teeth under your skin’ Miguel groaned, his needy lips still sucking on your neck. You struggled not to scream. His fingers were huge, calloused and warm, and they felt like heaven as they slid between your lips and carefully massaged your swollen clit.

‘I’d pierce fast, so it didn’t hurt—’

‘NO, no, make it hurt’ you pleaded, your hips bucking up against his finger. His smirk widened.

‘Oh, you want it to hurt, huh? Putita/o? Me gusta el dolor…’

‘Y-Yes, fuck yeah, I bet you do—M-Make it hurt, god, make it hurt. Make it slow. Make me plead for it!’

‘Y-Yeah, yeah, beg for me’ he moaned, his cock twitching in your hand. You could feel his fangs rolling your skin as he licked at it, almost as if edging the possibility of sinking right in. ‘Mm, beg for it. I want you to beg me to eat you.’

‘Beg… Y-Yeah… P-Please, please, I want you to bite me’ you pleaded. ‘I-I want it, please—’

‘Oh, I’ll bite you’ he hissed, giving a teasing little nip to your neck. ‘I’ll bite you, and I’ll swallow, and I’ll do whatever I want with you. Every bit of flesh on your body is mine, your bones are mine, and I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with you.’

Your sweet, breathy moan gave him such a rush. Yes, yes, you wanted it. You wanted HIM.

‘You like that, eh? Puta/o? You want that?’ he hissed.

‘Y-Yeah… Yeah, yeah, all yours’ you panted back. ‘All yours…’

‘All mine. All mine. I’ll bite you, and I’ll taste you, but only ever when I’m inside you. I want you to feel me pumping you, feeling you, with my teeth in your neck. I want you to feel them both. I want you to know I’m in your body in every conceivable way. I’ll swallow you down and fill you with my love, mi tesoro, I’ll love you from your flesh to your blood to the marrow in your bones, I’ll worship every inch of your body, and I’ll make it all mine.’

He started to speed up as the heat of his own fantasy took over. Soon he was groaning into your ear, almost crying every sweet word as he massaged your clit. He was pumping his hips now, practically rutting into your hand.

‘I’ll fuck you while I drink from you’ he moaned, his voice now echoing through his office. ‘Y-Yeah. Little whore. Puta/o. I’ll love you, and I’ll use you. I’ll fuck you so hard, until you can barely walk, I’ll unload in this pretty little cunt until you can’t move, you’ll take every last drop, and I’ll sink into your neck when I cum and let your blood fill my mouth— This is mine¸ you’re all MINE—’

With a final shaky groan Miguel shuddered and nearly spasmed, and you realized he was about to finish. You leaned up and caught his tongue with your own, making eye contact as you open-mouth kissed right at the moment of climax

You both orgasmed nearly simultaneously, both filled with the same mental image of Miguel devouring your neck drop by drop.

Miguel’s cock strained and erupted, squirted thick rope after thick rope all over your lap and hand, a cascade of warm, rich cum so sticky it barely dripped. You, in turn, spasmed and throbbed against his two fingers, letting him hear your pleasure on his own tongue as those sweet, mewling whimpers filled his mouth. He ate them up.

You both throbbed and shuddered together before slowly collapsing into a messy, weak pile, with your clothes soiled and your skin damp with sweat. You withdrew from the kiss and held on to the taste of him in your mouth, and Miguel savored that taste like it was his last meal.

He even licked your spit from where it dangled between your lips, taking it right into his mouth. You whined at the sight.

‘Mm… M-Mmm’ he moaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut. ‘Dios mio… eso se sintió increíble.’

He slowly removed his hand from your pants and dreamily raised it to his lips, where he forced you to watch as he licked his fingers clean. You shivered at the sight of the hunger in his eyes, the way he treated your slick, viscous fluid like a sampling platter.

He treated you like you were delicious, like you were a privilege.

And then you opened his eyes and he looked down at you.

His eyes were all red now. No white, barely any black at all, just red. Red, hungry, predatory eyes, sensing only your pulse beating in your neck and your hot, heavy breath. He let out a guttural purr in the back of his throat.

You were exhausted, sweaty, broken. You couldn’t flee.

He lowered himself to your neck, and you lay back to oblige him.

Eat. Eat. Eat. Eat.

He needed it. He NEEDED it. He was starving, ravenous. He pinned your chest with one clawed hand and moved his lips to your neck.

Eat. Eat. Take. Eat. Take. Eat.

He licked your jugular, feeling your pulse rapidly increasing. He could smell your sweat, he could smell your excitement. Your hand weakly stroked his chest, bidding him to continue.

He opened his maw.

Eat. Take. Fuck. Eat. Take. Fuck. Eat!!

He snapped his jaw open, his fangs extending. He sank them into just the first layer of skin on your neck, and then—

‘Hey, Miguel!’

Both you and Miguel froze on the precipice of pleasure, with his fangs just barely piercing the skin. You knew that voice well enough, and Miguel knew it even better. That was Peter B.

Miguel scowled, his face contorting into a series of angry lines as his eyes burned. He was alight with crimson fire, almost trembling with rage. For a moment he closed his eyes and leaned in closer, as if willing to test Peter’s resolve and see whether he’d just assume Miguel was busy and leave, but unfortunately, his hope was short-lived.

‘Miguel?!’

‘WHAT?!’

Miguel withdrew and snapped in less than a second, causing you to flinch. You could have sworn you heard Peter flinch too, even all the way down there at the base of the office.

‘We got an emergency call, one of the new guys needs help with an anomy.’

‘No chingues… No me estes jodiendo’ Miguel spat under his breath, before finally pulling away from your neck with extreme reluctance. He had to wipe the growing spittle from his lip where he’d been salivating, smearing green venom across his jaw. You just lay where you were, too overwhelmed to move and too worried you might set him off again.

‘I have to go’ he grunted as he rose to his feet. You watched him phase his full suit back on, covering his bare cock again, which reminded you to glance down at your own utterly soiled clothes.

‘R-Right…’ you murmured back. ‘I, um… Look, I—’

Your attempt to speak was cut short as Miguel bent down and roughly grasped your collar, drawing you up to his face. You felt his lips brush your ear, and into it, he hissed.

‘You will be here, waiting, when I get back. Do you understand me?’ he breathed, almost spitting with intensity. A low, hedonistic groan escaped your lips, one you barely managed to stifle.

‘Mm…. M-Mmhm, mmhm, I understand’ you whispered back.

He gave a single, approving grunt before dropping down from his desk into the open air, his terrifying body vanishing into the dark and the mist.

You stayed where you were, panting and trying to figure out how you could clean the cum from his clothes before he returned.

Though… Then again, from the way he was talking, he probably didn’t want you clean. You felt your face growing warm at the thought.

No. He probably wanted to add more.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #smut #miguel o'hara smut #vampire smut #18+ only #miguel smut #atsv miguel

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comfortless · 1 month

Note

this thought has been running around in my head for weeks and your König hcs are my favorite… so here i go

what icks do you think our König has? ik he may consider himself to fall in the “beggars can’t be choosers” category but i am just so curious… 🤔

FAVORITE?! 💞 you are so correct about the “beggars can’t be choosers” mentality. König is very much aware of how other people tend to view him as some creepy, stupid brute. i think that there is certainly a lot that bothers him, mostly attributed to his past, but none of it is an actual dealbreaker in any sense. you’re likely to be met with a cold shoulder and a bit of trust diminished at most. the majority of his “icks” are just him picking up on red flags. the gross or awkward things are just cute to him!

A very “vapid” approach to interests and such is going to make him concerned. König does not understand trends, or liking something simply because someone else does. He equates keeping up with pop culture and fashion as being similar to the children that tortured him in the past (So: popular kids with popular hobbies). Authenticity is held in high regard here. The stranger and more alienated that you are, the more compatible and similar you two may be in his mind.

This said, König would go feral seeing you in one of those pretty dresses or outfits that are all the rage. Dressing like a cute milkmaid for a picnic date, playing some sweet love song for him that you may have picked off a viral video, etc. He’s not exactly in touch with these things so he’s no proper judge or jury here.

Being too pushy. There’s a fine line there that’s not to be crossed. He much prefers playing the role of a leader rather than being a submissive follower. He’ll boast about being your devotee, worship like a dog at your feet, but he likes to feel in control of the relationship and what goes on within it.

He’ll never tell you directly that yes, his anxiety will be gnawing at his guts if you plead with him to come along with you to a commonly crowded mall, and expects that a simple rejection should suffice. It’s likely he would keep hushed about the fact that your frustrated pleading actually turns him on, too.

Being unnecessarily cruel. The man gets cruelty, he’s paid in abundance for it. But women should be sweet and soft. If you’re talking poorly about another person, using words like “ugly” or a slur of some kind, how are you any better than some bully? It does not matter that the victim can not hear you speaking about them, what matters is that he can. It would send him into a spiral of thinking that each time you two have had an argument, you’re likely cruelly chattering about him to your friends afterward.

Yet… he is very much the type to shoot an inept employee a glare and make demands. He will call his fellow operators all sorts of things when he returns from a mission gone wrong. König is the king of double standards here.

By extension, dogging him/his work/his interests is sure to bother him. König likes to believe that he’s done the work to make himself more pleasing now: trained his body through the military to give himself the stature women seem to drool over, covers what he can of his face when it’s socially acceptable so that others don’t harp on an unpleasant glimpse, even thinks of himself as some sort of chivalrous gentleman (very easy to do so as no one gets a peek at what goes on in his mind). His work, not therapy, is where he gets to blow off steam in a justifiable, honorable way. Sure, he’s got some dorky, juvenile interests, but they’re things that he enjoys.

Talk of previous relationships/sex would immediately make his blood boil! Even if it’s said to assure him that he’s better than a former lover. He’s just very jealous and if he were to be blunt, he would tell you he is addicted to the relationship and doesn’t want to think of anyone else ever having what he does currently. It’s best not to mention any past you may have had unless you care to answer a series of questions. “Were they better in bed?”… “Full name?” … “When did you last see them?”

Ironically, if you already have children, he would absolutely adore the stepdad role. It’s not so much as a challenge, then, only the glee that comes with getting to play savior for more than one person.

Infidelity. Whether in a past relationship or in a current one with him. The thought of you ever cheating on him, emotionally or physically, would tear him apart. Something as simple as a fantasy of wanting two or more men to serve you is filed messily in his brain with this, too. Same with you confessing to finding another man attractive, whether a celebrity, someone entirely fictional, or even some random civilian padding by on the sidewalk. All of that counts as some minute form of infidelity to König. He does not share.

He’s guilty of threesome fantasies, guilty of staring down a woman that he finds attractive… he just doesn’t act on these things, holds his tongue and huffs that he certainly wasn’t looking and would never want to fuck any one other than you. It does not really occur to him that those things are normal, especially in long term relationships.

Bear in mind that this is all from a man who almost entirely lacks shame. He’s comfortable with himself now (somewhat). He has no qualms with chewing the skin around his fingernails when he’s stressed out, picking his nose in front of you, shitting with the bathroom door wide open, or talking with his mouth full when he’s just that engaged in a conversation. I think it’s only fair to include some of the things he does that may be repulsive!

Absolutely clueless when it comes to seeing you cry. He has no idea how to comfort someone properly as he never really had that. His solution seems to be hovering over you and asking a thousand questions or just draping himself over you and letting your arms curl over him for comfort.

Would kiss you with his eyes open. Not his fault that you’re so pretty and he doesn’t want to miss a moment of it. Not always, but once is bad enough.

Would absolutely send you an “I miss you” text the day after your first date. Will also tell you that he’s in love with you the first time you have sex.

Will get hyperfixated on historical weapons and will absolutely purchase some rusted, ancient relic without telling you beforehand. It gets well polished and loved, then displayed on your living room wall.

Loves talking about his kills. He’s proud, because if there’s one thing that he’s good at it’s knowing where to shoot or stab or punch. He knows to hold his tongue about the more grisly details around someone delicate, but more often than not he is prone to slip-ups.

Will use your toothbrush without asking.

Thinks he’s very skilled and very cool because he can trim up any overgrown facial hair with a pocket lighter. It is not cool. There’s a razor and shaving cream right there. He may not burn himself, but it’s not exactly pleasant to have your bathroom smelling of burned hair.

Does not have a lick of fashion knowledge. Plain t-shirts, jeans, combat boots, maybe a belt if he cares to bother with it at most. At the least, when he’s at home, you can expect him to indulge in some nudist fantasy because it’s unlikely he will bother to wear a thing. Maybe socks.

#kö headcanons #this was super fun actually heheh #he can be a little gross as a treat! it is cute…

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doukeshi-kun · 2 months

Note

omg i just had an idea…..nikolai tokyo drift street racer….he’s tatted and wears pressed on shirts….oh mygod..

𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙧!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚

replies ✥ *gasp* new character unlocked??? hello street racer!nikolai muehehehe

content ✥ fem!reader, petnames

You were left alone by the bar. Your friend has been gone for about an hour now, spending her time with her partner who is one of the racers here. You are self-conscious of the environment of this street racing gang and you have found solace in staying just by the bar.

The noise of cars, the screeching of tyres and road, the cheers and curses from the people, sexy ladies standing by expensive cars—Oh, this place is so not for your introverted self. You wish you could go home but you have no exact idea how to get back without your friend's guidance.

You sigh once again as you watch the race of three cars that are happening right now. The cars are so fast—like a bullet. But you do not find it fun to just wait until a car is approaching the same checkpoint.

“Hey, pretty.”

You hear someone say, but you don't turn around since you thought the call was not for you. Until the person pokes your shoulder multiple times, causing you to turn quickly.

And you see a smiling man standing right beside you—his smile is adorable and innocent, and yet his appearance is rough. He has his white hair tied into a small bun, wears a compressed black shirt with matching pants and his arms are covered in abstract tattoos.

Beautiful man.

“Hello, pretty.” He says again, propping his hand on the bar table, looking at you. You feel heat rushes to your face and your stomach is twisting. He is standing so close—close enough that his cologne is practically ingrained in your head now.

“H-Hi...”

“You alone?”

“Obviously.” You reply almost too quickly, your tone sounds sarcastic. And you are quick to correct yourself upon seeing his amused face. “I-I mean, I wasn't alone. I had my friend and she's... gone somewhere.”

He grins. “You look new. Is it your first time coming here?” You nod slowly, eyes scanning his face—he is indeed a pretty man. His skin is flawless, though there is a scar slit down his left eye. He smiles at you and offers his hand. “My name is Nikolai. You are?”

You look at his hand—rings and silver bracelets. You reach it and your heart makes a small jump upon feeling his touch. You mutter your name and Nikolai hums pleasedly.

“Nice to meet you, love. Now, I'm cutting to the chase here. I think you're really cute.” He says, not bothering to hide his flirtatious manner. He clasps your hand with both of his and says excitedly, “Since your friend isn't around, she doesn't mind if I steal you for a moment, right? Oh—Oops, silly me. I should've asked you if you're already someone else's. So do you have any partners or something?”

He talks so smoothly—but a little rambling. Something about his tone reminds you of a jester. Lively and witty. Humorous and theatrics. It is a complete contrast to his looks.

“No, I don't see anyone at the moment...”

He giggles. “Well, isn't that perfect?” He releases your hand, nudging his head to the parking area that has a fleet of racing cars. “Would you like to come with me? I can show you around. Besides, isn't it boring to just sit here and drink your third glass of cocktail?”

“Well... you are right, but—”

“Come on, baby. I'll show you fun. You gotta have some fun if you came here after all those troubles.” He tries to convince you again. You are unsure. You do feel bored, yes. And now that you have a company, it's not a problem to have fun a little, right? Your friend is gone and this man is being all buddy-buddy.

“I guess I could...”

Nikolai smirks as he gestures for you to follow him. You do, trailing him by his side. He asks you a couple of casual questions. Though you are getting comfortable with him, you cannot help but notice curious eyes from passersby.

Is he well-known here? Why do they look at me like that? Or am I kissing my own ass?

Timid by the unwanted attention, especially when you are finally entering the proximity of other racers, you cling your hand to Nikolai's tattooed arm, scooting closer.

“Ah, don't you worry baby. These people not gonna eat you.” He says. “No one's gonna bother you. If they do, I'm gonna shoot them.”

“What— That's not funny..!”

“Oops, my bad, darl'.” Nikolai grins, guiltless. He stops by a dark red racing car with black and white patterns around it. You scan the car, noticing a common occurrence of a theme here. This car must be expensive when you see the logo on it.

“You’re pretty rich.” You say when you touch the patterns. They feel like stickers and surprisingly, you see it is almost peeled off. Nikolai taps the car proudly.

“Uh-huh. Expensive car, cheap stickers. Don't get me wrong, I just love to dress her up frequently. Cheap stickers are easy to take off.” He explains. “Let's get inside. I decorated the interior more.” He opens the door, inviting you to get in. You follow him, getting into the passenger seat, and indeed, the interior of his car is much more flamboyant.

There are small decoration pieces of jester masks, the dashboard is covered with black and white stripes-printed fabric, and a few red pompoms are hanging on the rearview mirror. The backseat is covered with white fabric with black diamonds printed on them. There are two small cushions on the seat too.

“Phew, okay.” Nikolai enters the car after he is done talking with other racers briefly. He closes the door and starts the engine, turning on the AC and radio. You lean forward, looking outside. Colourful racing cars all around.

Suddenly the car is moving out from the parking lot. You turn to Nikolai. Your eyes cannot stop staring at his tattooed arms, trailing down to his body. You almost forgot what you wanted to say to him, distracted by his physique.

“Nikolai? Where are we going?”

He smirks and says nothing as he drives his car to the racing road.

“Wait. Wait, are you racing now? Wait, I thought you were just gonna show me around—”

“I said I'm gonna show you fun, didn't I?” Nikolai grins teasingly. More cars are approaching the starting line. The fierce noise of roaring engines is all around you. You look outside the window beside you, seeing that the spectators are all spirited up for another race for the night. You even see your friend among the crowd, with a beer in her hand.

A presence looms behind you and you feel his warm breath teasing your neck. Nikolai reaches for the seatbelt right next to you. His scent salivates you and you swallow nervously when you peek a glance at his bicep. Your stomach makes a funny twist when he is just too close.

Nikolai cackles at your face when you turn to him. He grins and stretches his arms.

“Buckle up, darling! If I win this race, I'll get your number!”

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

#道化師-jest❃ུ۪ #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #nikolai imagines #bsd nikolai x reader #bsd nikolai gogol #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader

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hotchfiles · 5 months

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ lay down with me ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: they find out maybe bars aren't all the same. content warnings: alcohol, suggestive talk. not proof read. word count: 2.1k

"Were you... Brushing your teeth?" Yeah he was. And yeah they were still on the jet, but as soon as they got back to HQ he would be on his car for the 45min ride to Arlington to see you. He couldn't risk bad breath on your first date.

Before Aaron could even answer Emily's inconvenient question, Derek came in with another one "Hair freshly cut too, anyone noticed it?" Well he cut his own hair, it would be simply rude not to look his best when he so easily could.

He knew JJ was coming in with something too when she passed by him, so he had to cut it out before "Hey, enough. I’m meeting an old friend after work, just trying to use my time wisely here." His eyes scanned the room for the reactions and even though no one replied, he could see all the little smirking around and whispering between Emily and Derek mostly.

So much for a private life.

He's not the hiding type, if he's in a relationship he has no problem letting people know it, as long as that is it, he enjoys keeping the details to himself. And right now that's all he can really say about you, you're an old friend, just an old friend.

For now.

He was running late now, and very stressed about it. Of course it wasn't the greatest of ideas to go from Quantico to Arlington by driving instead of taking the train, but he wanted to have the choice to take you somewhere else if you wanted to and to get you home safe when the date ended. He was also aware that trains didn't run as late as he might be staying.

He planned the haircut, the hotel shower right before leaving, brushing his teeth while in the jet, having his car ready, but God, did he not plan for the traffic he would have to deal with after 6PM.

But he's a gentleman, so he calls from the car system to warn you about it and he's nervous and anxious because not being present enough and being late or not there at all ruined his marriage and he wants to do better, he really really wants to.

"Oh don't worry babe, I’m still enjoying my wine in my living room. Thought it would be better to wait 'til you were in town to leave, yeah?" Aaron hopes the loud sigh of relief he let out isn't so obvious to you, but it is. You find it endearing. You were reading essays still just minutes ago, you understood him.

You weren't very sure how well would you two work considering that. But you sure as hell wasn't going to give up without at least trying it. And definitely not without a fight.

"Send me your location then, I'll pick you up in... Twenty."

"Uuuh, picking me up? Look at us, it's a real date date now, curfew's at 10PM then, don't forget it." You make him laugh easily with that, your father was a strict man, sometimes you both went to the movies or the park nearby and if you got home at 10:03 was enough for him to sit Aaron down in your living room and tell him all about responsibilities and how he was the boy and so he was supposed to protect you and ensure you were home in time.

"I am curious about what the consequences of not following the curfew will be this time though." Oh he's teasing you now, as if this wasn't your first date and the implications of consequences weren't so... Suggestive, to say the least. But he feels comfortable enough for that.

"Guess you'll have to wait and see then, agent Hotchner." Your voice drips like honey and he's pretty sure he just figured out some sort of deep ingrained fetish he didn't know he had until now. "See you soon, airhead!" You laugh innocently before finishing the call and it drives him mad in the most delicious way.

He thinks those are the most torturous 27 minutes he's ever had to go through his life, but the feeling is completely overrun with almost childish glee as he parks in front of your house. He could fit the choice for a house instead of an apartment easily on your own profile but he didn't need too, you liked your space. Apartments have no space. No privacy. He remembers vividly of a conversation you both had after your cousins were forced into an apartment because of your aunt's divorce.

He dries his palms on his pants quickly not sure if he should go to your door, stay where he is or what. He hasn't done this, the whole date ordeal in a while and it just got to him that he has no idea how people do it these days. What's too much or too little?

Aaron finally decides on leaving the car and waiting near by, after sending you a quick text to inform you he was there. It was a middle ground of sorts, he felt confident in it. Kinda.

It doesn't take you long to leave and lock your door and the sight of you immediately takes his breath away, your smile takes him back some years but your thighs remind him quickly that you are both definitely not fifteen anymore. He shakes his head softly, directing his eyes to a more suitable place for a first date: Your hands. You were holding a flower bouquet.

Flowers.

"Fuck." He mutters to himself in frustration, "I forgot to bring you flowers." You don't seem bothered about it, in fact it makes you smile more as you hand him the bouquet in your hands. "You got these... For me?" Aaron grabs the gift softly with both hands, afraid he's going to break it somehow.

"Yeah, wanted to test my theory that you're still a sap." The way his eyes were shining and his lips turned into the sweetest of smiles were enough proof to you. Aaron was always loving, caring, soft. It was interesting seeing him on the news nowdays, stoic, serious, unbothered. You wanted to see how easy it was to break him.

Turns out very easy. At least to you.

"A sap! I’m surprised I got flowers from a beautiful woman, sue me." He opens the passenger door so you can get in, which you quickly do with a cheeky smile on your face, the gift is carefully placed on the backseat before he's back to your side, seat belt on. Nosy as you are, you're already typing some address on the GPS.

"I heard people talking really good things about this place." You muse while he turns the car on, already following the instructions. "Apparently the beer is great and it stays open til late." He doesn't ask for any clarifications, if that's where you want to go, that's where he'll take you.

The food you've both ordered hasn't arrived at your table yet but Aaron has already gulped down two large beers and is trying so very hard to not show how annoyed he is, it makes you laugh, hard. He follows, laughing along and shaking his head.

"Who told you about this place?" He asks accusingly, you take a sip of your own drink and pretend you didn't hear it. "Who?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"Your students then. You trusted a bunch of twenty somethings with our date. Pitiful." You don't reply, instead you just keep laughing to yourself while you drink. The place is loud. Loud music. Loud college students. Loud busy street. You tell him that's exactly the type of place you would hang out with your girl friends to hook up back in London, his experience isn't the same, the lover boy committed since high school.

"How do they even get to know each other over this nooooise?" Laughing at his annoyance only lasts so long and now you're the one not being able to sort through your thoughts, the food is good though, you both agree while munching on the appetizers that accompany the beer.

In retrospect you should've imagined it would be this time of place by the countless mentions of beer whenever a student recommended it.

"Look around, I don't think they're actually trying to." You follow his gaze and notice that as the hours passed, the more couples formed and the less they were actually talking. Exactly as it was in your own college days. "I'm a bit tipsy so I'll let my curiosity win, you never told me why you divorced the second time." It was out of the blue, you told him the first one wasn't that bad, conflicting views on family and you both married too early in the relationship. The second one was... Harsher.

"Bastard cheated on me." You shrugged, but it was obvious it still got to you, Aaron could see it in your eyes, in your voice tone, and that had nothing to do with being a behavior analyst, and everything to do about how he just... Knew you. "His whore also pressed charges against me when I wasn't even trying to hit her, she just got in the way." He chocked on his beer and almost had to spit it out after that tiny little piece of information you hadn't mentioned before.

"You have a record?"

"He made her drop the charges when I left the apartment to him without a fight. That's why I moved back to the states." He blinks once, twice. Maybe he should be worried, but he also knew that could get a bit aggressive when losing control. Just it always happened to terrible people. "I'm obviously joking, airhead." The relief he feels is followed by an annoyed face for believing such a lie, you touch his forehead softy, smoothing the lines so he doesn't look mad anymore. He takes it as a sign, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles, then your hand, and pulls you to him, letting go to touch your chin.

If he wasn't drinking the proximity would inebriate him alone, the way your eyes closed and your cheeks blushed in anticipation, he's sweet, lips touching yours with tender patience, much more patient than you, you who lifted your body just a bit from the chair and pulled him by his collar to deepen the kiss, almost causing a disaster if any of you fell over the table with all the glass cups.

You let him go just after hearing some snickering from the table behind yours, not blaming them for it, it probably looked like an awkward kiss from the outside. But it wasn't.

"That was certainly better than our first one..." You smile sheepishly at him, putting your hands on your lap, nervous.

"You blushed and gripped my shirt." He says looking deep into your eyes, making you tilt your head slightly, showing him your confusion. "It's been thirty years, you did the same thing... You blushed and gripped my shirt."

"So you're telling me you make me feel like a school girl."

"I'm telling you you've just acted like one." You take the comment as a challenge, getting up and taking your chair with you to sit closer to him, brushing your lips to his before going to his ear.

"You're drunk and staying over, so why don't we get a taxi and I'll show you the school girl." You can see the way his neck shivers at your little teasing, but he takes advantage of the new found closeness to kiss you again, with much more hunger but also much faster than the first because he's ready to pay the tab and get out of there.

It wasn't really that hard to find a taxi, being a night time neighborhood, they knew to stay around. Aaron had your bag on one of his hands and the other on your thigh. Your arms went around his and your head laid on his shoulder. None of you talked the whole way there, just feeling each other's presence and the alcohol twirling around your minds and your stomachs.

And you did show him you were not a school girl anymore when you both got to your house: You got him your largest t-shirt and pajama pants, your coziest blanket and after you both changed and took aspirins to try and prevent the headache that would inevitably come, you got your pillows and went to the living room and laid on your big couch with Aaron, cuddling with him as some TV show re-run lured you both to sleep.

It was almost 2AM, and while you could take him to your bedroom and take his clothes off like you wanted to, you both knew it was the middle of the week, he had to wake up early to get his car, you would probably pass out under him anyway.

Cuddling was more than enough for a first date. And at least for Aaron, he was sure he wouldn't let go of your embrace anytime soon.

#lari writes sometimes #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader

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yuurei20 · 3 months

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Ok so, I am kinda curious about relationship between leona and mc/yuu. I mean do Leona consider mc/yuu as friend or just a normal classmate?

Hello hello, thank you so much for this question, it turned into such a rabbit hole!

Leona can be difficult to read as he is extremely sarcastic, but he seems largely neutral on the younger students (re: Does Leona have a favorite first-year?) and less than patient with his fellow third-years (re: Idia and Malleus).

While there is Leona's line of "helping a friend in need" in reference to the prefect during Book 3, it is something that he has technically never said!

The word that EN changed to "friend" (ヤツ) is actually an impolite way to refer to a third person; Leona has never called the prefect a friend (this was also a sarcastic response to Ruggie guessing at the real reason why Leona interfered with Azul: to dispose of his own contract).

(EN went with a similar localization in Book 6.)

As the English language has the pre-existing saying of "a friend in need," that is what Leona's expression became on EN.

This is a perfectly accurate reinterpretation of the phrase and would normally not be worth mentioning, except: the word "friend" might have special significance in the Twisted Wonderland universe, or at least at NRC!

We have seen multiple instances of the characters recoiling at the thought of someone believing them to be friends: Epel panics when someone asks if he is friends with Malleus, while Idia disapproves of an insinuation that he, Sebek, Jade and Epel are friends during Harveston, saying that he has no friends at NRC.

Idia seems particularly resistant to the insinuation that he is friends with anyone except Muscle Red, refusing to attend Lilia's farewell party because, "We're not friends or anything...acquaintances at best."

(Lilia uses the same word to refer to Gloomurai that Leona uses to refer to the prefect, which was also translated to "friend" on EN, but is also not what he is technically saying. And Lilia refusing to call Gloomurai a friend may be tying into Lilia's character overall, with Lilia's understanding/misunderstanding of his own relationships being an important part of the still-ongoing Book 7.)

We get another example of Leona's resistance to the word "friend" during Halloween and Jack, too, expresses displeasure about using the label with the prefect, so it is not just Leona and Idia.

Thank you very much to @silverinnia for pointing out Malleus' use of "friend" on EN during Glorious Masquerade! ("Friend" was added to Malleus' English-language dialogue and is not something he has ever said.)

And thank you very much to @ezool for pointing out Ace's halloween vignette! We see a similar situation with Ace, where Lilia insinuates that he, the prefect, Grim and Deuce are close, and he vehemently denies it.

The group of Malleus, Jamil, Trey and Grim outright refuse to take a picture with a melon with Cater and the prefect that is supposed to make friendships last forever, and Najma's reaction may be insinuating that "friend" being a sensitive word is not a part of the culture of the universe, but may be unique to NRC.

Najma asks if the group has had an argument but Jamil explains, "This is just how we are." Najma responds, "Night Raven College must be one weird school..."

Jamil says outright that the members of the Firelit Sky group are not his friends, and when introducing them to others at the event he calls them his master's school friends.

This also ties in to Jamil's consistent refusal to allow Kalim to refer to them as friends.

And it makes the situation with Jamil's middle school friend particularly interesting, as he will regularly refer to that unknown person from his past as a friend, but no one else.

(Jamil also makes a point of saying he is glad he didn't make friends with Azul and will never do so.)

While Cater does refer to the Firelit Sky group as Jamil's friends, he pointedly uses the English-language word "friends" in katakana, in what may have been a brilliant way to symbolize Cater's outlook on friendship overall: we know he intentionally keeps his relationships shallow and surface-level, saying outright that he "doesn't really do long-term friendships or found family," because he's been hurt too often in the past. By calling himself one of Jamil's "friends" in katakana he turns the word into just a sound, so it is "friends" on the surface, but does not have any kanji to give it meaning

Cater having deep-rooted issues with friendship is an important part of his character.

So is there any character that actually, sincerely refers to any other character as their friend in the game?

Interestingly, the examples I have been able to find thus far are for Kalim, Silver and Rook: the only light-magic users 👀

(There is also a line from Deuce where he says that he and the prefect are close friends, but when asked to try and explain the slang that he uses he says, "nevermind.")

Azul and Riddle have a friend-based interaction during Book 6, with Riddle reluctant to accept Azul's offer that they refer to one another as friends.

This was extremely interesting character development, and may be a hint as to what is to come: is it possible that a part of the overall arc of the game is the characters learning to not recoil in revulsion in response to the word, "friend?"

(And towards the end of the first novel we have the prefect silently wondering if it would be okay to refer to Ace and Deuce as his friends, or if they would dislike it. A significant part of the main character of the novel is that he has no friends, so the forming of friendships is a major theme.)

To the original question: Leona has never technically referred to the prefect as a friend but the situation may be deeper than it seems, with the majority of the characters balking at the word "friend" despite the varying depths of their interpersonal relationships :> So exciting to watch unfold!

(And if anyone has any other examples of "friend" said aloud in the game, EN or JP, I would love to go search for screenshots to further add to the discussion!)

#twstask #twisted wonderland

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nicoline1998enilocin · 6 months

Text

Naughty fantasies | 500 follower special 🖤

Pairing | Boyfriend!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Avenger!Fem!Reader

Word count | 2.5K

Summary | Bucky recently discovered a specific fantasy he's been wanting to fulfill. Even though you two have never experimented with roleplaying before, you're instantly on board when he brings up the idea of a Student/Teacher roleplay. It's just not the way you had initially thought...

Warnings | Established relationship ~ boyfriend/girlfriend, use of nickames ~ Doll, Baby Boy, Baby

Smut | Porn with some plot, Bucky watching porn, implied male masturbation, oral ~ M&F receiving, deepthroating, student/teacher roleplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), Sub!Bucky Barnes at first, but later he takes back control.

A/n | Firstly, I want to apologize that this has taken so long to be posted, life got in the way and with Fluffcember going on too it was hard for me to find the time to write this. But it's here now, and I hope you will all enjoy it! This is written as a thank you and celebration for reaching 500 followers; this one has been chosen by all of you! 🩵

A/n 2.0 | This is proofread by the amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917, for which I am truly grateful! I also believe this was based on a post from @notafunkiller a while back (please correct me if I'm wrong and it wasn't you!) about wanting to see a student/teacher fic with student Bucky, so I hope this will fulfill at least a little bit of that craving 👀🩵

Events Masterlist | 2. ''Don't tell anyone'' | @the-slumberparty

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Owner

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You've been away on a solo mission for the last three weeks, meaning your boyfriend, Bucky, has been looking for a different way to meet his needs. Not in the form of another woman, but in the form of his fist while watching porn.

The idea of porn was very foreign to Bucky at first, but he has always been curious about it. When he truly couldn't take it anymore, he decided to ask you since there's no one else he trusts more with such a sensitive topic than you.

''Doll? Could you come here for a moment?'' Bucky asks as he's seated on his bed, and you're getting ready for a girls' night out with Nat and Wanda.

You just put on your outfit for the night, and once your heels are on, you're ready to go. During this entire time, Bucky had watched you like a hawk, enjoying every curve of your body when you changed and pouting when you told him you couldn't stay.

If it were up to him, he would have you under him the entire night, making each other cum so many times you don't remember your name, let alone where one person begins and the other ends. But no, you couldn't cancel girls' night again.

''Is everything okay?'' you ask as you walk over to him, putting your hand on his thigh as you look at him with a curious gaze.

''Everything's perfect, but I've been... wondering about something,'' he starts, his voice trailing near the end and a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Your eyebrows are slightly raised out of curiosity, and your mind is going a mile a minute as you're trying to think of what could be swirling around in his brain. The following sentence is most definitely not on the list of things to even cross your mind, let alone his.

''Where can I watch porn?'' he said it like it was the most casual thing in the world, like someone asking what's for dinner that night. You nearly choked on your saliva, and after your coughing fit, you looked at him to make sure you heard him correctly.

It turns out that you did.

''Are you okay, Doll? I can ask someone else-'' ''No! I can show you!''

It was unexpected, yes, but you didn't want to give Bucky the feeling that you'd think he was weird or that you weren't okay with explaining these things, too. They're only natural, after all.

And that's how you found yourself explaining to Bucky where he can find free porn, and he has been exploring the wonderful world of online porn.

Ever since that night, he has watched porn a couple of times, usually only when you're away on long missions like you are now. He's been watching one of his usual videos when he stumbles upon something he's never seen before that instantly piques his interest.

Student/Teacher roleplay. After that first video, he has been going down an entire rabbit hole of roleplay porn, but he noticed he gets the most satisfaction from the student/teacher dynamic.

Somewhere along the way, he found out about the dynamics being reversed. It was usually a male being the teachers and a female being the students; in this one, a female teacher was punishing her badly behaving student.

Now, he's trying to find a good way to bring up the fact that he's interested in trying out a little roleplay of his own. It's not something you two have ever tried before, but it's not something you have discussed.

So here he finds himself watching the same video over and over again, his sweatpants on his knees together with his underwear and his fist wrapped around his cock, stroking himself at a leisurely pace.

Despite seeing the video countless times at this point, it never fails to get him off, and this time is no exception if it weren't for the fact that you swung open the bedroom door, just as he was about to reach his climax.

His super soldier hearing had not notified him of your arrival because he screamed when you caught him, his phone flying across the room as he tried to cover himself up.

''D-doll! Fuck! I didn't know you'd be home so soon...'' he mumbles, his face bright red while you walk over to where his phone landed to see if it's okay.

''Please, don't tell anyone!'' Bucky pleads, not wanting everyone to know about the kind of porn he watches. It's nothing illegal or anything, but that doesn't mean he's not embarrassed by it.

''I won't, Bucky; this will stay between us,'' you reassure him as you take off your boots before making your way over to the bed, where he's still waiting for what you're going to do next.

''So, you've wanted to try a little roleplay, huh? Well, you could have just asked me, and I would have happily said yes, silly boy,'' you tell him with a sensual voice.

You take slow steps towards the bed as you pull down the zipper on the front of your Tac suit, exposing your bra underneath.

''But first, do you want me to help with your not-so-little problem?'' you ask him, crawling on the bed and in between his legs before pulling the pillow away, revealing how he's still hard as a rock.

''Y-yes, please,'' he whispers, and without any hesitation, you bend down to give a few licks across his red, weeping tip to lick off the few drops of pre-cum that have gathered.

Your fist wraps loosely around the base, closing your mouth around his tip, sucking softly, and earning yourself a loud moan from your boyfriend that has your pussy clenching around nothing.

Slowly, you work more of him into your mouth and throat until your nose makes contact with his pubic bone, and you're gagging around his length. This turns out the be his undoing, and without so much as a warning, he shoots every last drop of cum into your mouth, letting you swallow every last drop.

''Fucking hell, Doll, you always know how to give a warm welcome-'' he tells you as he's softening and coming down from his high, ''- but now it's my time to give you the same.''

The next day, you and Bucky discussed roleplay and your interest in trying it out. However, this is also when Bucky confessed he would like to be the one receiving the punishment and taking the sub role in this scenario.

Your discussion has led to you searching for an office you could use, which may have resulted in a somewhat awkward situation with Steve. See, you've been trying to figure out if any offices are available with a lock on the door, but you didn't want him to know what you would be doing there.

"So, about the office… Is there one available?" you ask Steve again. It's been about a week since you last discussed it with him.

"Well, there are plenty available, but I can't exactly assign an office to you without knowing what you're going to do there," he tells you, focusing intently on your face. You know he means well, but that doesn't make it any less embarrassing.

"I have some- uhm- personal business? With… Well, with Bucky…" you say, your voice trailing off to a whisper, and that's when Steve finally puts two and two together. It's not about exactly what you would be doing, but it did click why you need an office with a lock.

"Oh! Well, uhm… Yeah! We have- I'll put you on the list; I'll let you know!" he says as his cheeks turn bright red, and with that, he storms off to try and not make the situation any more awkward. You quickly retreat to your bedroom to tell Bucky the excellent news, but you decide not to mention that Steve has an idea about what you will do.

A week later, you find yourself in the office Steve assigned you and Bucky. The door is locked so you two can avoid getting interrupted.

''Are you sure you want to do this? Because you know I'm okay with this, of course, but I care about your wellbeing too, Bucky,'' you tell him before you start.

''I'm sure, Doll. And I have my safeword if anything happens that I'm uncomfortable with,'' he reassures you. This does make you feel a little more at ease, and you need to get a few more things ready before your scene.

You've already changed into your outfit of a tight skirt that barely covers your ass, a white blouse that is about two sizes too small, your boobs and bra on full display, a pair of high stockings, and high heels. The entire look is finished with a high ponytail and your glasses.

''Ready, Baby boy?'' you ask Bucky when everything is ready, and when he notifies you that he's ready, you instantly switch into teacher mode. Suddenly, you're glad you've been a high school teacher for a few years before joining the Avengers.

''Somebody-'' you start with a raised voice ''- has gotten an F on last week's test. And because of that, they will receive a fitting punishment.''

Bucky's eyes instantly go wide at how you naturally slipped into your role. Between your authoritative tone and the way you look, he can already feel himself growing hard in his pants, and he has to adjust himself already.

This doesn't go unnoticed by you, and you walk over to Bucky, your heels clicking loudly on the wooden floor. You lean forward when you're at Bucky's table, and this only makes your boobs stand out more, making Bucky unable to look away from them.

You clear your throat loudly, and his eyes instantly snap up to yours, and he knows he's been caught. A deep red color appears on his cheeks and down his neck, and you can't help but grin at the sight.

''What's the problem, Baby Boy? Am I making you nervous by standing so close?'' you whisper in his ear after leaning in, and you are so close to him that he can smell the perfume you're wearing.

He bought it for you last Christmas, and you only wear it for special occasions. This occasion is very special, and his head reels from the thought.

You get back up, and he instantly misses you being so close, but that feeling is quickly gone when he watches you walk, the fabric of the skirt stretching slightly across your butt.

The sway of your hips has his mouth slightly agape and his hand reaching down to his crotch, palming himself over his jeans to give him the slightest bit of relief.

''Barnes!'' you say, and he quickly pulls his hand above the table. His eyebrows go into his hairline as he looks at you, and you turn around, sitting on your desk with your legs crossed.

''Come over here, Baby Boy, and I will give you your punishment now, so you won't have to go to detention later,'' you tell him, your glasses sliding down your nose as you playfully look over them.

He slides his chair back without hesitation, and before you know it, he's in front of you, the bulge in his pants very noticeable. He's enjoying this even more than you thought he would, and it makes you smile.

''For the first part of your punishment, I want you to sit on your knees, and eat this pussy until I tell you to stop, is that clear?'' you ask him, and he nods.

''Words, Baby Boy,'' you order, and he follows with a soft 'yes.'

''Good boy,'' you tell him as you spread your legs for him, and he sinks to his knees, his hands hooking behind your knees to pull you towards the edge of the desk. A soft gasp leaves your lips, and Bucky spreads your legs wider with his shoulders, opening you up for him.

The skirt you're wearing rides up to your hips, and when Bucky finds out you didn't wear panties for this, he lets out a deep groan. At this point, he's straining almost painfully against the confines of his pants, but since you didn't tell him he could touch himself, he hooks both arms around your thighs as he starts to eat you out like a starved man.

''Oh, fuck! Doing so well for me, Baby Boy,'' you praise him, and with that, he increases his pace even more, alternating between licking your clit and fucking your entrance with his tongue to get every last drop of your arousal.

He groans against your pussy with the praise, and you can never get enough of him eating you out like that. Your fingers are threading into his long locks before pulling him even closer, making your moans only louder.

''Use your fingers, Baby, use your fingers to make me cum-''

He doesn't have to be told twice because as soon as he hears the words 'fingers,' he is suckling on your clit, his fingers crooked inside your pussy.

Within no time, you're trembling as your legs are over his shoulders, your hand in his hair pulling him away as you're overstimulated and unable to keep yourself up at this point.

''F-fuck me, Bucky, fuck me until I can't fucking walk straight anymore,'' you tell him as he's worked you through your orgasm, and he's glad he can finally free himself from his pants.

After a few quick strokes, he's pushing himself into you, and you instantly clench down on him from the stimulation he's giving you. Once you've finally relaxed enough to let him in further, he slides in, bottoming out in one thrust.

The moan leaving your body is nearly pornographic, and it has Bucky going crazy, too. After getting adjusted to you and how tight you are around him, he leans forward and captures your lips in a soft, sweet kiss that is the complete opposite of the pace he's fucking you with.

With his metal arm, he rips your bra and shirt into pieces in a single motion, freeing your breasts from their confines and ready for him to play with. At this point, you know he's taken back all control, but you don't care; all you can think about is his cock deep inside you, hitting precisely the right spot.

''Need your fingers, please!'' you tell him, and his metal arm slides between your bodies, finding your clit without a single problem, while his flesh hand plays with your nipples, tugging and squeezing both in an alternating rhythm that only increases your pleasure.

Before you know it, you're falling over the edge of your second orgasm, and Bucky is following closely after, shooting his cum inside your pussy as he bends over and captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and your legs are wrapped around his waist to keep him as close as possible. The two of you stay like that for a little while until Bucky goes soft, and he pulls out, ready to clean you up.

''So, how about that grade?'' he asks you.

''You deserve an A+ after that performance,'' you tell him, and after he's cleaned you up, you try to stand, but to no avail. Your legs give out immediately, and Bucky has done precisely what you asked.

''Here, take my shirt,'' he tells you as he pulls off his Henley before taking off the remaining pieces of your bra and blouse and throwing them in the trash for you. The soft material of the shirt feels warm against your skin, and Bucky lifts your bridal style, ready to take you to your bedroom.

You lay your head against his shoulder with your eyes closed, letting out a content sigh as you let Bucky take care of you. He makes sure all private parts are covered, and despite a few people giving him odd looks, Bucky keeps walking and giving you soft kisses on the crown of your head occasionally.

''I love you, Doll, and thank you for making my fantasy come true. Next time, I'll help you fulfill one of yours,'' he whispers to you before stepping into the elevator, and you fall asleep, getting a much-needed nap.

The elevator arrives at the floor of your bedroom quickly, and when the doors open, Bucky walks past Steve, who instantly turns bright red at the sight of his best friend holding you as you're wearing his shirt.

Steve turns around and quickly rushes into his bedroom to save himself from more embarrassment, though it is unspoken between all three of you that this will never be mentioned to anyone.

It's a good thing you left your bedroom door unlocked - your valuable stuff is always put away safely - and Bucky steps into the large room to put you on your bed without disturbing you.

When he pulls the comforter over you, he is just about to walk away to meet Steve, but you've woken up from the transfer, and you're not engulfed in his warmth anymore.

"Stay?" you ask him in a rough, sleepy voice, and he agrees. Right now, all he cares about is you, and Steve isn't capable of looking either of you in the eye after knowing what you did in that office.

For Bucky, though, this is truly a win-win situation. More time with you and the rest of the day to do whatever he pleases? It's like his dream come true.

#500 follower special #navy and roo's sleepover #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut

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stylescine · 1 year

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okkkk so remember when harry sang vossi bop with stormzy. so there's a lyric in it which goes "i finish with a FACIAL just to topp ot off' what if reader is innocent and asks harry what that is after his performance backsatage and he has to answer and then she asks him to do it for her?

gosh i am in love with this!!!

Warnings: facial, oral (m receiving), VERY innocent reader lol

It wasn't her first time visiting Harry at one of his concerts. She loved to see him perform and today was even more special. Stormzy would be performing a song with Harry and she was just as excited as everyone else to hear them sing together.

She was standing by the side of the stage, moving to the music as her boyfriend was singing in front of the crowd. Stormzy eventually came on and Harry started singing his song "Vossi Bop" with him. She had heard the song in the radio before, like everyone probably did, but hearing it live was even better.

It was also interesting to see Harry sing a different type of music and her boyfriend seemed to enjoy himself thoroughly. She clapped loudly like everyone else when the song came to an end.

The lyrics stuck with her though. "I finish with a facial just to top it off" was one she couldn't quite understand. What was a facial and why did anyone have to top something off with it?

The show went on for another while and she danced and sang like everyone else. By the time Sign of the Times came around and the show ended, she was whistling and clapping for Harry like the rest of the room. She still felt so proud seeing Harry up there on the stage, doing what he loved. The energy the man could bring to a room was impressive and unmatched.

As soon as Harry disappeared behind the stage again, she did the same and met him in the hallway to the dressing room.

"Darling," he smiled and opened his arms for her as she was quick to jump into them. His arms wrapped tightly around her while he lifted her up, his scent filling her nose. His hair was messy from the dancing and his cheeks red, but he still looked absolutely beautiful. "That was such a great show again. And what a nice surprise for everyone," she told him with a smile as he set her back down onto the ground.

"I always try my best when you're in the crowd. " There was a cheeky grin on his face. She chuckled softly at his comment before she intertwined their fingers again, walking back to the dressing room with him. Harry would probably change back into jeans and a hoodie before they would leave to head home. He usually didn't stay in the suits unless it was show time.

She sat down on the couch in the room as Harry shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie. Maybe she could ask him about the line she didn't quite understand earlier.

"What's a facial, love?"

Harry turned around quickly, his eyes wide as he stared at her. Did she just tell him about a ghost? "Did I-"

"No, it's alright," he interrupted her immediately. He had just been taken aback by the sudden question, but he soon realised that it was probably a genuine one. She had revealed to him that her sexual experience was pretty limited, so this was a natural question to ask. And as he had promised, he would help her understand things better wherever he could. She had already shared her first time with him and since then, they had been exploring more and more new things.

"It's basically that when a guy comes, he just comes all over someone else's face," he explained simply, but could feel the heat in his cheeks anyway. He would be lying if he said he had never imagined doing that to his beautiful girlfriend.

"Oh," she replied, looking at him with a curious expression. She liked the idea of it, she really did. There was a tingling between her legs at the thought of giving Harry a blowjob and letting the man come all over her face. It felt like a dirty, secret fantasy, but she wanted to make it reality.

"Can you do that for me?"

Harry stared at her with wide eyes again. He couldn't quite believe what he had heard. Of course, he would love to do that for her, but he also didn't want to push her into anything she wasn't ready for yet. On the other hand, she had asked him directly about it and seemed pretty determined too.

"Are you sure?" He asked slowly, but was already walking towards her. He could see her eyes light up when he was standing next to her.

"Very sure. I wanna know what it's like," she assured him before she patted the spot on the couch next to her. Harry sat down eventually, looking over at his girlfriend. The curious look in her eyes somehow made this situation even more thrilling. She seemed so eager, almost desperate.

Her hand moved over his thigh, getting closer to that spot between his legs, putting slow pressure onto it. She could feel Harry growing slowly, a groan escaping the man's throat. "Y/N," he whispered, his eyes dark with lust as he looked over at her again. He wanted her so badly.

She slowly slid off the couch, kneeling down in front of him between his spread legs. Her fingers found his zipper and slowly pulled it down. Harry lifted himself off the couch for a moment to allow her to pull down his pants and then his underwear.

Seeing him naked in front of her, in all his glory, always send a rush of desire towards her core. As she wrapped her hand around his cock, pumping slowly, she could feel him get harder and bigger with time. Her boyfriend threw his head back, moans leaving his mouth continuously. "Shit," he whispered, his hand grabbing the cushion next to him.

She started to move her hand faster. The sight of his cock was always mouth-watering for her. He was big and the veins so prominent. So she moved forward and ran her tongue over the underside of his shaft, watching Harry shiver at the touch.

She placed a kiss on his tip before parting her lips for him, taking him into her mouth. Her hand was holding onto his thigh as she started to move her head up and down, tongue swirling around him. His moans were urging her on. She increased her pace and she knew it was working when Harry's hands buried in her hair, tugging on it to pull her up and down on his cock. He was fucking her face by now and she could feel herself getting even more wet. She needed him. And she needed to feel him come.

"Fuck, I'm close," he groaned, giving her hair a more firm tug as he pulled her off his length. She was already waiting excitedly for what was about to happen.

Harry pumped his cock again a few times, eyes fluttering shut and back open, until he finally reached the edge. A loud moan left him again as he started to come all over her face.

She closed her eyes for a second, but opened her mouth almost instinctively, licking off the cum that had landed on her lips. She took the time to wipe the cum off her cheek and then lick her fingers clean.

Harry groaned again at the sight, pulling her closer to press his lips against hers.

He knew he would give her a lot more facials from now on. And he was grateful for her curiosity.

639 notes · View notes