#god i love him so much. its giving mattress/ bed it in interview | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

parkers-gal · 3 years

Text

pain from pleasure T.H.

because i don’t feel like writing today, i’ve spontaneously decided to repost all of my dad!tom fics — this one included

warnings : cursing / explicit talk, a few innuendos (okay a lot, lmfao)

summary : tom goes through a child birth simulator — controlled by ag!reader

pairing: ag!reader x dad!tom [wc: 1.3k]

—

"So, Y/N," James started.

About a month ago, you and Tom had done a session of carpool karaoke for your new album, thank u next. Despite Tom not being an artist, you still wanted him with you for it, for that was the first interview either of you would be doing since Jade's birth.

"James," you mocked, laughing.

"Last time you were here, you and Tom had a bit of a disagreement on how painful being a... female is."

"Yeah..." you trailed off, turning to the side with an arched brow, staring daggers at Tom who was sitting beside you on the sofa.

"So, I've created a new game."

"Oh here we go," Tom said, and you laughed at him.

James let out an excited, and knowing, laugh before continuing. "I have a child birth simulator set up to see if Y/N or Tom is right."

"Oh hell no-"

"Oh hell yes!" You interrupted, clapping excitedly. "Payback for you making me do Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts."

Tom looked at you before rolling his eyes in defeat, knowing you were right.

"Alright then, up with me now, c'mon," James persuaded, leading the way to another part of the talk show set.

"This already looks ridiculous," Tom said.

"Ridiculous my ass," you snapped back.

"Ha-ha," Tom said sarcastically.

"Right then, Tom, you lay down and we'll hook you up before giving Y/N the controls."

"What? Don't let Y/N control it-"

"I thought you said childbirth 'wasn't that bad,'" You quoted, crossing your arms.

"Why the fuck did I open my mouth," Tom muttered.

"I don't know, you should really shut it, movie star," you teased.

He stared at you playfully before sitting on the bed, holding his arm out and letting the professionals attach wires and various equipment to his body. When they explained how to work the controls, they sat in chairs off camera and you were left with James and Tom again.

"Lay back, lover-boy."

"How sexy," Tom replied, tilting his head. You merely pushed his shoulder, encouraging him to speed up so you could get started.

"Whaddya say James, should we start small and torture him?" You asked, a fire in your eyes and a smirk on your face, the controls in your right hand.

"No teasing, love," Tom said, the innuendo flying over nobody's head.

"Watch it, Thomas," You warned.

"I love when you're bossy and in-control," he shot back, and James and you burst out laughing as the audience let out a series of 'oooh''s.

"Right then, let's start," you said, turning the machine on and bumping the levels to a small amount.

"OH- oh, this isn't that bad."

You grinned, rubbing your palm on your thigh. "Not that bad?"

"Yeah, it sort of feels liKE- OW! What the fuck, Y/N/N!"

You giggled and James was already freaking out, slightly pacing as Tom continued to wince and curse.

"Alright, settle down there, Tommy. It's not even passed level two, yet."

"How many levels are there?" He wheezed out, his fists clammy.

"Eleven."

"F-uck."

"Tommy this is just the 'menstrual cramps' level. Grow a pair and suck it up."

"Grow a pair? I have a pa-!"

"When I say grow a pair, I mean grow a pair of ovaries. Your balls ain't shit compared to the pussy power."

"Jesus, Y/N," James exclaimed, laughing still.

"Let's up it by two, whaddya think, Tommy? Think you can handle level four?"

"Please," Tom said cockily. "My pain tolerance is higher than yours."

"The only higher-leveled thing of yours than mine is your sex drive."

"Y/N!"

"I'm just saying," you said, holding up one hand defensively. "You are the one who got me pregnant twice."

"Please refrain from sharing the details of our sex life," he breathed out, wiping his forehead as a blush covered his cheeks and reddened the tips of his ears.

You giggled, increasing the simulator again, only this time your hand wasn't leaving the control, but rather increasing it slowly over time.

"Y/N!" Tom whined, thrashing around slightly, his hands balled into fists as his knuckles were white. You heard the snickering from off-set, and you looked in the direction to find Harry and Harrison on the floor in tears from laughing, and you eyed them, almost as if threatening to say 'you're next.' before cracking a smile. "I said no teasing!"

"But you love it so much," You pouted, and the audience shrieked.

"Y/N!"

"Yes, baby! Scream my name!" You joked, James continuing his endless laughter.

"You should really be quiet," Tom said. "Don't expose my kinks."

"Oh boy, don't get me started on your kinks. We could be here all day."

"Says you!" Tom fought back between breaths, the sweat on his forehead glistening.

"Says me?" You gasped, talking octaves higher with a hand to your chest for dramatic affect.

"You're always-" he stopped to breath. "Gawking at my hands."

The audience, once again, erupted in so many different noises, each person reacting differently. Your response was witty and quick, something that always shook Tom.

"What? Can't a woman admire her necklaces?"

"Holy shit," James muttered, turning another direction to pace in shock, mouth opening and covered with his hands.

"Alright, let's give you a little break," you said, lowering the levels to three.

"Oh thank fuck," Tom sighed out, releasing the breath he was holding.

"Prepare yourself, Mr. 'my pain tolerance is higher.'"

Tom groaned, throwing his head back against the pillow.

"I didn't think anyone would get to see you like this, Tommy," You said seductively, and Tom groaned again as the audience laughed. "Guess we'll have to add threesomes to your list of kinks."

"Don't act like you haven't asked me before, Ms. Dick Bicycle."

You gasped, staring at him in shock. "Don't bring Nicki into this! Ms.Minaj is a badass rapper, and that was a great line!" You huffed playfully.

( for those of you who don't get the reference: there's an ariana grande song called side to side, its abt wild sex and it's featuring nicki minaj; her rap has a part 'wrist icicle ride dick bicycle.' )

"Mhmm," Tom hummed, laughing at how you were huffing and puffing, struggling to get a response out.

You scrunched up your nose before waving the controls around as if to show him you were still in charge, but Tom didn't stop laughing. Only then he stopped when you increased levels to full power.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

You were giggling, the audience laughing along.

"OW! You go-" he wheezed and inhaled and panted. "You went through this! Twice!"

"That's right," You said, crossing your arms again.

"Oh god! Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!" He whined, cried really.

"What's this? Is Tommy begging for me?"

"F-UCK!"

You laughed before lowering the levels again. "Alright, alright calm your titties."

He was sweating fully now, ripping off the wires and other equipment from his body, falling onto the mattress a sticky mess.

After a few moments, everyone calmed down and Tom recovered to some degree.

"I was so wrong," Tom said. "Sorry love."

"Don't be," You said, hugging him as his head was level to your chest. "You can be sorry when your vagina opens ten centimeters."

"Tell me they don't have a simulator for that, too," He whined from your neck.

"We don't," James said, getting up with his cards.

"That was Tom Holland and Y/N Holland in Pain from Pleasure, and I'm James Corden and we'll be right back!"

Then, the two of you talked to James for a few moments before heading backstage to freshen up, Harry and Harrison awaiting the both of you.

"Well? How was it?" Harrison asked.

"Dude," Tom said, holding his shoulder. "Always listen to your girl."

"Noted."

#dad!tom holland #husband!tom holland #ag!reader #tom holland x ag!reader #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland fluffy

339 notes · View notes

inskz · 4 years

Text

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse.

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence.

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them).

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you.

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now.

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago.

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh).

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him.

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen.

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff.

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it.

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups.

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything.

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas.

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly.

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil.

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear.

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch.

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little…

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter.

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered.

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask.

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain.

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in.

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt.

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately.

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget).

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground.

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you.

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch.

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy.

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials.

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter.

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview.

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes.

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can.

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today.

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso.

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling.

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue).

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you?

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time.

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall.

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next.

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right?

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should.

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball.

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves.

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious.

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in.

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start.

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours.

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil.

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - -

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him.

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross.

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning.

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes.

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it.

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe.

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars.

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate.

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm?

440 notes · View notes

bloomyn · 4 years

Text

baby³

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader

tags: fluff

warnings: none

summary: you get knocked tf up

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

triplets.

your eyes widened at the word that spilled out of the doctors mouth a little too cheerfully. triplets? and you had just thought mother nature was being nice to you by taking your period out for a bit.

“i’m sure this must come as shock but--”

you tuned the doctors words out, more worried about the nauseating feeling starting to build in your stomach. just the thought of having three kids made your legs tremble.

“miss are you okay?”

you want to tell the doctor that you were fine and you just need a minute, but then you promptly decide to vomit all over the linoleum floors.

----

hajime’s pissed.

if oikawa hadn’t been the one to hold him back there would’ve been blood everywhere.(pretty ironic since he worked in a hospital) those interns were just so damn stupid. he knows being in the medical field is hard enough, but it’s even harder when you’re dealing with pesky, arrogant, interns who think they know all because they’re fresh out of medical school. he really ought to teach them a lesson one of these days.

oikawa had offered to buy him a drink, but hajime knew better. drinking would only get him more pissed, seeing you on the other hand? just the thought of your crinkly smile has him soft.

---

“i’m home.” he says to no one in particular slipping his shoes off. your shoes are already neatly placed on the rack and he can’t help the smile that makes its way onto his face. he’s whipped so what.

your shared apartment isn’t really one to admire. one bed, one tiny bath, a kitchen (if you could even call it that). student loans and a low paying job don’t get you much in tokyo, but its the pictures on the walls and the hand embroidered pillow you had given him as a gift for valentines day three years ago that makes it a little more bearable.

“[name]? baby?” he calls, peaking into the bedroom a bit worried at your unresponsive figure. he makes his way toward the bed, pulling his shirt off on his way there. he groans falling into the mattress (he’d have to call his mom later to thank her for the memory foam pad she had given you two for christmas), turning on his side so he can wrap himself around your figure. “what’s wrong” he says against your shoulder. slowly you turn back, facing your husbands worried face. running his thumb over your overly-bitten and swollen lips, he plants a kiss on your forehead.

you don’t want to tell him. not yet at least. you’re only three months in, oh god why does that sound like so long? but then you remember your scene at the doctors office and the idea of telling him goes flying out the window. so you deflect.

“just--really tired,” you mutter against his chest, “long day.”

and your loving husband just hums against you, pulling you closer to his perfect physique. how he maintains it as a resident at one of the busiest hospitals in japan is beyond you.

“oh are you feeling better?” he says, sitting you up so you’re straddling his lap. you freeze. this morning, the first thing you had done was go to the bathroom to throw up, that was your reasoning to go to the doctors in the first place.

“oh-oh yeah it’s fine.” you stutter, “it’s probably just left over nerves from my interview”

hajime grins, pressing a short kiss to your lips, “you’re obviously going to get it you know.”

you smirk back, completely forgetting about your little situation, “yeah i know.”

“you brat.”

flipping you over, he begins his attack on your neck while his hands roam your waist. giggling, you run your hands through his scalp pulling him closer to your lips.

“you’re so beautiful baby.” he whispers on your lips. jolting away you pull the covers up against you. hajime’s eyes widened, had he done something wrong? were you not into it? but then he spots the growing wetness on your lash line.

“babygirl...”

you think you might cry, no, you’re definitely going to cry. you know that hajime loves you. you know that. but right now the two of you are living in a crappy apartment with no AC with new jobs and now you’re pregnant? with triplets? you don’t even notice the tears until hajime’s wiping them away for you.

“hajime i-” you croak, unintelligible words garbling out of your mouth.

he doesn’t show it but on the inside it feels like he’s crumbling. you’re the love of life, and you’re crying right in front of him and he can’t even do anything, and it hurts more when he realizes that when he had gotten home ; you weren’t just tired, something was weighing on you and you couldn’t tell him. you felt like you couldn’t tell him.

you suck in a deep breath. “i need to show you something.”

---

you’re sitting across from him, eyebrows still wrinkled, fingers tapping away with worry.

“close your eyes.”

“[name.]”

“just, close them, please.”

reaching into your bag you pull the flimsy piece of paper out. you can make out the three tiny bodies, all curled up against one another and one hand subconsciously rests on your stomach. and then a pair of arms wraps around you, placing their hands on your tummy. jerking up, you’re met face to face with a smiling hajime.

“so, triplets?”

---

its later that night when hajime pops the question.

“why didn’t you want to tell me?”

he’s in a similar position from earlier. you’re back is tucked into his chest, his hands roaming your stomach. you shrug.

“i got scared. we’re not exactly living in an ideal situation for three babies to be running around, er crawling. and i threw up in the doctors office when they told me so i didn’t even want to think about what would happen if i told you.”

at that hajime laughs. you knock a punch to his arm, and give him a playful pinch on the cheek.

“triplets.” he muses out loud, “they’re going to have the best parents you know.”

“japans hottest resident at the university of tokyo’s hospital and a new writer for the asahi shimbun.”

“attending.”

you whip around, and hajime grins at your expression.

“attending? since when?”

“oh,” he sighs, “maybe six hours ago.”

“HAJIME.”

you punch him for real this time.

---

hajime thinks this might be the best day of his life. he’s just become an attending at one of the biggest hospitals in japan, his wife is pregnant with triplets, triplets! he’s pressing kisses on to your bare belly, when he suddenly stops.

“hajime?”

“we cannot tell oikawa about this”

#he finds out anyway #insists on decorating the triplets room when yall move into your new house #iwa says no #but makes him the godfather anyway LOL #ahhh might have to start a domestic series w iwa #iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq!!#aoba johsai #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagine

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ddeonghwaluv · 4 years

Text

Not so possessive | Choi San + Park Seonghwa (m)

—

warnings: sexual content, oral sex (fem receiving), dirty talk, hwa watching you and San, and grab some holy water on the way

word count: 3,6k

—

San loved you very dearly. Whether it be by words or actions, he always knew exactly what to say and do to make sure you knew that you had him wrapped around your tiny finger the same way he did with you. A pretty cute relationship you had there.

If you could describe the dynamic that you had with the dark haired male, it would definitely be fun, spontaneous and lively. You always had something to do with him; from going to the supermarket at three in the morning to sitting on a rooftop on a cold, snowy winter night where you held your mugs filled with hot chocolate and some marshmallow on top, sharing giggles and stories of stuff that you’ve done together like it was the first time you ever do it.

You were deeply in love with him there was absolutely no doubt.

San was a simple man though, if he says that something is his, it is his without further discussion and it was no different when it came to you.

To put it in simple words, he was possessive.

Small gestures like gripping your thigh when you’re sitting down next to each other, squeezing your hip, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pressing his groin against your behind—he was shameless to say the least and very explicit about making sure everyone knew who you belonged to. Especially when you tried to misbehave and forgot exactly who pounded you into the mattress and made you spout out sounds and noises you wouldn’t want anyone besides him to hear and elicit from you. God, did he have so much effect on you.

The very first few months into your relationship, when you hadn’t started being sexually active yet, he fooled you with his innocence. Burying his face in the pillow when you popped a random sex joke, blushing when you called him pretty and easily manipulated you into thinking you could top and dominate him very easily when the time came.

But oh were you delusional,

You were proved wrong the moment you straddled him, smirking down at him before saying “why don’t we see if you’re a good boy, then I’ll let you cum,” watching as the light disappeared from San’s eyes and was replaced with a mischievous, dark glint that sent shivers down your spine.

Wrong move.

You didn’t know how fast it happened, but you were immediately flipped, face buried in the pillow while you choked out sobs, ass up in the air for San to do as he pleased with it as he called your little stunt “funny” since now, he had you all laid out for him, looking pretty and ready to be fucked raw.

Thankfully, the dom/sub relationship that you had in the bedroom suited you very well, the idea of submitting to your boyfriend, let him be in control while adding a little bit of bratty behavior just to get that thin thread of control that he had to snap and lose himself with you being more than satisfying.

You loved San’s teammates, they were absolutely the sweetest. You won’t deny the fact that they did get a little bit suspicious when your boyfriend had first introduced you to them, but seeing how protective they were of one another, you didn’t feel offended at all and answered their questions very calmly. Yes, they interviewed you to make sure you weren’t going to hurt their precious little San-ie.

You, Wooyoung, Mingi, Yunho, Yeosang and Jongho were practically best buds.

You and Wooyoung didn’t exactly have a good start, since the latter was just scared that his best friend was going to get heartbroken but it took him one joke from you and the guy was like “okay, she’s cool!”

Mingi and Yunho were one package, if you want to befriend the first one, you’re going to have to befriend the other one without even realizing and thankfully, they were both much friendlier than Wooyoung, seeing how their dear friend trusted and loved you, they felt like they could trust his feeling.

Now, Yeosang was the last one you had expected for him to like you. Based on what your boyfriend had told you, he was rather quiet and reserved, not the easiest to approach and yet with one smile and one snarky remark towards Wooyoung from you, he was smiling at you and slowly approaching you to become your friend as well.

Jongho was the baby,

You were smitten, to say the least, in the most sibling-like way possible. You wanted to protect him with everything that you had even if his strength wasn’t human but his behavior sometimes indicated that he was indeed still a baby that just needed protection at all costs.

When it came to the leader, you knew you could count on him on anything. He was a pure soul, although a bit stern at first but the hard façade dropped the moment your words reassured him about your true intentions with his member. Being the leader was a huge responsibility and Hongjoong was owning up to it like it was a piece of cake.

You had very platonic feelings for every one of your boyfriend’s friends. Everyone but the eldest; Seonghwa.

You didn’t know why, you didn’t know how or when but you couldn’t look at him and he looked very amused by the situation, way too amused that it ticked you off how the little fucker knew exactly the effect that he had on you despite his friend literally being your boyfriend.

Many things about Seonghwa irritated you to be quite frank; from the way his shirt always hugged his upper body so well, the way his voice drops everytime he became serious to the way his gaze always rendered you a stuttering mess even if you weren't even conversing with him, which didn't happen that often since you tried to avoid him like the plague to save yourself the embarrassment of having your panties turn so wet by just standing in the man's presence.

And you knew how much San trusted his friends. He knew he could trust them with his whole life so you were no different. He knew that he didn't need to show them who you belong to because the love bite on your neck was enough to say that you were definitely very taken by San.

"I know Seonghwa-hyung could never lay a single finger on you the wrong way, I trust him."

You should've paid more attention when he said "the wrong way,". You should've expected yourself to end up in this position with how Hwa eyed you everytime you wore an outfit that San specifically chose for you.

You should've been more careful, but you didn't exactly regret the position you were in.

San didn't say anything about a third party, he didn't give you a hint that someone else might be joining but you should've at least had your doubts when he said that he had a nice present waiting for you in his room and when you found nothing, you just assumed that it was the sex.

But no, it was beyond that.

"Do you trust him, love?" San purred in your ear, a hand delicately wrapped around your neck as he made you look up to stare at the man standing at the doorway of San's room, a look on his face that sent shivers down your spine.

Seonghwa looked calm as usual, he looked as if he had everything under control, as if the way your and San's figures standing facing him in almost nothing, San's chest pressed against your back while one hand wrapped itself around your neck and the other one was buried in your pants wasn't giving him the urge to just push you on the bed and ravish you until you were left a drooling mess.

But his body betrayed him, the bulge in his pants indicating that he was very close to losing control.

"You might want to answer him, pretty thing," You didn't know if it was the way his voice dropped or how he locked the door of the room behind him after he fully stepped in, but a shiver went down your spine and a whine found its way out of your mouth as a response to San's question, and your boyfriend wasn't satisfied to say the least.

"Use your words," San almost growled, hand slowly tightening its hold around your neck enough to have you a bit dizzy from the lack of oxygen in your brain and you knew he was doing it on purpose. Choking you has always been the best way to make you spout the dirtiest things without you even realizing it which your boyfriend always found extremely amusing.

"Y-Yes," the chuckle that left both men's mouths made your face burn, your hands immediately flying up to grip your boyfriend's arm in hopes of having him save you from Seonghwa's intense gaze.

"Is that so?" The sarcasm laced in the eldest's voice made your heart stutter and you found yourself nodding to his words without even realizing it, the closer he got to you the more you tried to press yourself against San's body but he, himself, wasn't helping with the situation when his hard-on was basically rubbing against your ass.

Seonghwa chuckled at your almost robotic response, his index and thumb holding up your chin so that you fully looked him in the eye and you were almost going to look away if it wasn't for the way he gripped your chin when you tried to move away from his hold.

"So you'd let me fuck you while your boyfriend held you nice and still for me?"

His words made you freeze almost instantly, eyebrows furrowing slightly at his question and you were about to ask San if he was actually okay with it considering his possessive demeanor until you felt him pull his hand away from your neck to bury his face in it and stifle a moan, your eyes widening at how turned on he sounded.

So he was actually into this? Or was it just with Seonghwa?

"Shit, you'd look so pretty while Seonghwa-hyung fucked you raw," the dirty words San whispered against your neck made you moan almost instantly, head thrown back on his shoulder while he peppered open mouthed kisses on your neck, almost forgetting about Seonghwa standing not even three inches away from you two.

Seonghwa stood quiet for a moment, observing the way you were easily very putty in San's hands before stepping away from you two and burying his hands in his pockets, something about his stance screaming authority and that he was the one in charge tonight which was quite the case.

"On the bed, both of you."

You didn't know how you did it but you were quick to jump on the bed, unable to keep your hands to yourselves as San peppered kisses all over your neck before feeling Hwa's fingers through his hair, gentle and delicate, silently asking him to pull away from you which your boyfriend did almost immediately, watching you with hazy as he imagined all the positions he could put you in in front of his hyung.

"Come here," Seonghwa didn't need to say it twice before you were sitting on your knees on the mattress in front of the tall male, something about the way you were looking at him and being so obedient while your boyfriend was still there making him groan before he was smashing his lips against yours, pushing your body down on the mattress in the process.

His lips were just like how you imagined, so soft and plushy. He tasted sweet too, yet the way his tongue worked wonders on your mouth made you feel intoxicated. A moan managed to escape when his hand dipped inside your pants, your cheeks burning again when you saw him pull his hand out to show you just how wet you are before turning towards San who was sitting on the chair, watching you two with a smirk.

"San, she's so wet,"

"I know right? You should see when you kiss her neck,"

It was as if Hwa was waiting for San to say these exact same words before he was moving his lips down to your neck almost automatically, abusing the soft skin while burying his hand back down your pants and pressing at your clit on purpose to make you gush out more arousal than you already were.

Your hips bucked up immediately at his touch, a whine escaping your lips as you threw your head back to look at your boyfriend, silently asking him to help you a little bit, tell his hyung to just hurry up and make you cum.

San slowly approached you, cooing at the way you were looking up at him with doe eyes before he was leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"If anyone's gonna make you cum first tonight, then it's gonna be him love, not me,"

"But San-"

"San, why don't you hold her for me while I eat her out,"

"Sounds perfect hyung,"

They were having a conversation as if you weren't there, the words they were exchanging making you heave out a sigh mixed with a moan that soon changed into a yelp when San yanked you back so that you were sitting on his lap, your back pressed against his chest as you sat between his legs on the bed.

How did he even get there?

You didn't really have time to think of an answer, hands gripping at San's legs when Seonghwa slowly started pulling some your pants along with your underwear, the lustful look on his face making you whimper before trying to close your legs.

But of course, both men weren't having it.

"Open them and show him how pretty your pussy is," San whispered filthily, and you obliged wordlessly, hands resting at your thighs while you slowly spread them for the eldest to see as much ad he wanted.

And he looked at it for a few moments before shamelessly licking his lips, settling himself between your thighs and you didn't even know how the moan left your lips, but the sight of Hwa about to go down on you just made you feel so many things and you found yourself blushing again at how lewd the whole situation was.

"It's indeed so pretty. Fuck, San you got so lucky," Hwa commented, his thumb pressing at your clit and smiling playfully at the way your hips jolted immediately, a hand pushing them down to hold them in place before he was looking up at your boyfriend. "and she's super sensitive too,"

"Try to do this," San quickly reached down and slapped your sensitive bud several times, Hwa's head making you unable to close your legs but you still moaned loudly, body arching away from your boyfriend.

"S-San," you whined at your boyfriend, looking up at him with a small pout on your lips which obviously didn't affect him that much right now.

"Oh no, don't moan my name baby, it's hyung who's gonna eat you out so you better be nice for him,"

It was the cue for Seonghwa to place his lips on your heat, your eyes immediately rolling to the back of your head when he lapped at your clit with quick, experienced licks before he was wrapping his lips around it,

"Oh shit," you breathed out, hand reaching down to grip Hwa's hair which he didnt look like he was minding much since he was too focused on making you cum with his mouth.

And he was close to doing so, having picked up his pace and just held your hips, helping you grind down on his tongue while he made eye contact with San, the latter immediately understanding the message.

"Look at him when you cum," You were far too fucked out to respond anyway, the way San held your chin down to look at his hyung making you whine a little but what made the knot finally snap inside your stomach was the look on Seonghwa's face, the determination to make you cum along with his mouth of your own heat being way too much for you to handle.

So you let go, orgasming all over his mouth while San held your hips in place, smirking when your moans turned into little yelps when Seonghwa wouldn't pull away, watching as the eldest continued his abuse on your sensitive bud until he guaranteed that you were a writhing mess.

"S-San—" you tried to choke out, much to the said man's displeasure as he buried his fingers in your hair to slowly yank your head back until you were looking up at him with teary eyes.

"I'm not the one eating you out, hyung is. So moan his name, love," his filthy words added more color to your cheeks and you tried your best to keep your eyes open while looking down at the eldest of the two men on the bed, whimpering when you locked eyes, your sensitive bud starting to go numb from Hwa's ministrations.

"H-Hwa, fuck Seonghwa please—" the way his name left your lips made him groan against your core once again, feeling his grip on your thighs tighten, a sign that he enjoyed the sounds leaving your lips a little bit too much. You still had an effect on him after all, huh.

White flashed before your eyes as you reached your second orgasm of the night, feeling as if your soul was about to leave your body when Hwa finally pulled away from between your legs, looking up at you with a shiny chin and lips coated with your release, and you felt yourself throb when he licked his lips shamelessly while still intensely keeping his eyes locked on yours.

He was intoxicating, you found yourself pulling yourself towards him for a kiss without even realizing it, San humming from behind you in approval. He sure was enjoying the scene.

You shared an intense kiss with Seonghwa, missing the way San shifted from behind you to stand up and undo his pants slowly, watching you and Seonghwa intensely.

"Hyung," San's deep voice made Seonghwa pull away from your bruised lips, your teary eyes staring up at your boyfriend breathlessly and he could've sworn he felt a shiver run down his spine.

"My turn," that was all what your boyfriend said before Hwa was pulling away from you with a smirk, moving to sit on the couch with his legs spread wide open but you didn't have enough time to check him out before San was pressing his lips against yours as a way of asking you to focus on him and only him this time.

God, did you love it when he became possessive like this.

He nipped at your already bruised lips like he hasn't kissed you in years, hands squeezing your sides as if he was trying to remind you of who was allowed to have his dick inside of you between him and Seonghwa.

"San, please," your whines always kept your boyfriend going, he found himself losing control over his body so easily because of your sounds and the way your body reacted to his touch.

"I'll be nice to you this time," was all what he gave as a response before he was pushing his way inside you, your brain completely blurring out the fact that Seonghwa was sitting on the chair next to you two.

San's pace was unforgiving, watching you with a smirk as you slowly started losing control over your own reactions, pressing your cheek to the bed and making the mistake of opening your eyes, because the sight that greeted you was heavenly.

Seonghwa looked so fucked out. His hair was wet with sweat and he was running his fingers through it while his other hand helped him jerk himself off to the sight of you and your boyfriend fucking. Why did you find this so hot?

But San was quick to remind you of who you were supposed to look at and gave you a sharp thrust to the right spot, chuckling when you threw your head back and gripped his shoulders.

"Getting turned on by hyung jacking off to you getting fucked like a rag doll? What a dirty little girl that you are," he whispered filthily, driving you closer to your third orgasm of the night, your face contorting to one of pleasure when he kept pushing his hips the right way.

And you didn't know if it was because of Hwa's soft moans as he came or because of San's filthy words, but something definitely made the knot inside your stomach snap faster than usual, your body spasming between your boyfriend's hands.

"Fuck, you're so hot," San whispered, chasing his own orgasm which you assumed was very close based on how erratic and uncalculated his thrusts became.

Silence fell on all three of you, only your soft breaths and the two men trying the catch their breaths filling the room.

You weren't going to lie, you didn't feel the slightest bit uncomfortable with Seonghwa being around, so when he wordlessly grabbed some tissues to clean himself up and handed San a towel to clean you, you found yourself gripping his wrist before pulling him down towards you and you were very thankful that San did the talking.

"Stay hyung, we would love it"

—

thank you for making it this far ♡︎ hope you enjoyed reading this!!

#ateez blog #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez #ateezedit #ateez atiny #ateez icons #ateez seonghwa #ateez san #choi san #park seonghwa #san x reader #seonghwa x reader #Sanhwa x reader

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meet-me-in-the-kitchen · 4 years

Note

is it weird that literally all of my dreams are batshit crazy and don’t make sense?? can you write something

+ i was the one about the crazy dreams, how do you think harry would react to them or you re telling a of them??

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME

Y/N felt mystified by the dream she’d had the night before. She woke and stared at the ceiling for a while, simply thinking it through and questioning the peculiar recesses of her mind, along with the tangent it’d gone on. At one point, she found herself on the windowsill, staring out as dusk became dawn.

Harry had the habit of holding onto his girlfriend while they both slept, squeezing her as tight as possible while nuzzling his face into her neck, breathing in the fresh scent of her hair. Waking up to a mouthful of her longer hair had easily become one of his favourite morning rituals, as had watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the peaceful look on her pretty face as she slept soundly, and feeling her curves meld perfectly into his body once she’d eventually turn, meeting him halfway for some messy version of a hybrid hug/cuddle. After them both wiggling to adjust, his hand would find its way to her hip, and her leg would slope over his.

Today, however, with his eyes screwed shut he reached his hand for the familiar feel of her waist, or some estranged limb. A frown overcame his features as he shivered further into the mattress, longing for her body heat to warm his. With newfound determination, he outstretched his foot, wiggling it around in hopes of finding hers, wrapping his toes around her ankle, and tugging her towards his chest, where, he added grumpily in his head, she was supposed to be.

When they come back empty, much to his discontent, he opens his eyes, squinting as the green in them adjusts to the light in the room, before skimming it. They land on her figure, sat rather primly on the windowsill, out of which she gazed at the world with a sort of detachedness that confirms that she is, indeed, overthinking at—he turned his head slightly to the clock—5:30 in the morning. The thin white curtains rustle slightly as a gust of wind makes its way through the crack of the window, whistling slightly as it causes y/n’s hair to move with the breeze, her arms crossing across her chest to protect her body—clad in one of his jerseys and not much else, thrown on after last night’s activities—from the chill.

As angelic as she looks like this from afar, he decides he’d much rather be loving on her from closer.

“What’re you doin’ there for?” he cooed, her jumping a little bit at the low raspy, much welcome intrusion to her thoughts. She turned and smiled at him shyly, bare toes dancing on the ivory walls.

“Come to bed,” he said thickly, blinking at her sleepily, feigning innocence to seduce her back while burrowed into the covers. “You’ll catch cold.”

She jumped off of the sill, him chuckling warmly at the sight of her hopping about trying not to let her toes touch the cool hardwood. He made a note to get her some slippers for her feet, while grabbing her wrist and tugging lightly, smirking when she squealed a bit in surprise, easily falling to his chest.

“G’morning, baby,” he greeted slowly, eyes lighting up pleasantly to find her so close, before closing his mouth over hers. One of his hands found her cheek, stroking deftly while sleep still beckoned them both, while the other smoothed down her sides, hips, before finally squeezing lightly at her bum, then resting there as she arched then melted in his hold, kissing back and suckling on his bottom lip while he continued to suction kisses off hers.

“Mmm,” she stretched out on top of him, smiling almost lazily. Perfectly. Her eyes sparkled. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he grinned, perfectly aware he was being repetitive. He sealed the greeting with yet another slow kiss he stole from her lips, which warmed him instantly. He pulled the thick comforter over her, and then closed his eyes while she brushed her fingers through his curly hair. “What were you doing so far away?”

Pause.

“I just...had a weird dream and couldn’t go to sleep afterwards,” she said nonchalantly, but Harry’s eyes flickered up inquisitively once he traced slight restraint in her voice, hesitance on her face.

“A dream?” he asked, skeptically. This felt a bit suspicious, the way she wasn’t meeting his eyes entirely. She nodded. “And what was this dream of, may I ask?”

Her cheeks filled with colour, her body warming noticeably against his. She averted all eye contact, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

“Did you dream of me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. She shook her head ‘no.’

“It was honestly a weird dream. I’m just trying to forget about it. You probably wouldn’t be interested—“

“Try me,” he pried further, peppering kisses to her jawline to weaken her resolve. His fingers brushed lightly against the nape of her neck; she whimpered. Got it.

“It was of,” she took a deep breath. “Timothee Chalamet.”

“Timothee Chalamet?” Harry hoped to be asking nonchalantly, his grip on her tightening a bit while she nodded in affirmation. Well, maybe they were just hanging out, he tried to convince himself. “Doing what?”

Pause.

“Y/N!”

She sighed, her fingers stilling for a moment as she burrowed her face into his chest, voice coming out muffled.

“I dreamt that he was...impregnating me.”

Silence. You could hear a pin drop.

...and then...

“You dreamt what?” He asked, jolting slightly, a bizarre look in his eyes, darkening from a blend of emotions—jealousy, confusion, surprise, er, unadulterated fury. “He what?”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you!” She squeaked, trying to think of ways to explain herself while Harry formulated a plan on how to get on the nearest plane and then show up to Chalamet’s front door to throttle him. “I can explain!”

“Explain, then,” he huffed, more than a bit put off, but not wanting to part from the warmth of her sleek against his chest.

“Fine,” Y/N said cautiously, “but don’t go murder him just yet.”

Harry grumbled something along the lines of “you give a bloke one interview...and he tries to steal your girl...”

She rolls her eyes before continuing on with her nervous tale.

“Okay, so. I had this vivid dream that, yes, revolves around Timothee Chalamet impregnating me,” she shook her head at Harry’s glare. “Except, he wasn’t really Timothee Chalamet, he was some dude named Matt who just looked like Timothee Chalamet and was also Timothee Chalamet’s age—“ Harry was gaping at this point. “—and I spent most of the dream going ‘Oh my god, why would I even have sex with him? How do I not remember this? That’s really not cool, because I love you. Why did I do it?’ But I told my whole family and my dad went and found Timothee somewhere and he was being a real stand-up gent about the whole thing, and then we all trekked to the doctor, where my nurse was Hilary Duff. So we’re chilling in the waiting room for a really long time and all of a sudden I realize that I’m in trouble because I’ve been taking medicine I can’t take while pregnant, because I didn’t know I was pregnant, and so I go to my dad, freaking out, and my dad’s all “I’m sure it’s fine. Just go talk to the nice nurse about it,” so I’m on my way to go talk to Hil—” Harry snorts at the nickname, and she glares. “—when all of sudden I realize something else—I HAVE MY PERIOD.”

Harry is momentarily thrown aback by this loud, melodramatic proclamation, nodding along as Y/N raises her hands.

“And if I have my period, I can’t be pregnant. So, I go to Hil and I’m all, ‘Um, my period...? And she gives me the most ‘oh, honey’ nod and says she knows, they were just waiting for me to realize it. And I’m mortified, because look at the mess I caused. Poor Timothee slash Matt. Then I woke up,” she finished, breathless and still looking a bit nervous for Harry’s reaction. “So, you see, it was strange and unwarranted, and I don’t even like—”

Harry gives her a strange look. Stares at her for a second, and when she goes “what?” he throws his head back and laughs. Really laughs. He erupts into guffaws and is properly slapping his knee at this point, while Y/N looks as if she’s debating either running to the nearest train station or smacking him upside the head.

“Y-you,” he gasped, cackling, tears springing to his eyes. “You thought you were pregnant, but you weren’t, so you went t-to Hil—”

“Er, Harry?” Y/N asked uncertainly as he wheezed, smacking his head against the headboard.

“Oh, God. You’re bloody amazing.”

“Um, thanks?”

This sends him off into another fit of giggles, peals of laughter echoing in their flat.

A few minutes were spent with her awkwardly sitting there, letting him have his moment, while he wheezed, and laughed himself something stupid. By the time it was causing him physical pain, he stopped, and Y/N nearly got whiplash from how quickly his eyes went from light and sparkling with mirth, to darkened jade jewels. She gulped.

“You have to do one thing to make it up to me,” he says huskily, fingers trailing down the thin packer’s jersey she was wearing, one of his own. They slipped under the material and she inhaled sharply once his hand was flat against her stomach, thumb brushing softly against her navel.

“What?” She asked softly. His lips were now at the shell of her ear.

“Tell me,” he whispered, tongue poking out slightly, warm against her skin, causing her to hum. He suddenly flipped her so she was lying underneath him, and she barely got a chance to fully interpret the devious look that overcame his mischievous green eyes, the smirk tugging amusedly at his lips before his fingers dug into her stomach and wiggled around.

He was tickling her.

“Tell me you want no one but me to impregnate you.”

“Harry!” She gasped, in between a fit of laughter. He simply bit into her shoulder, not not trying to suppress his own boyish grin, she could tell by the rumble of his chest he was laughing. His fingers continued to tickle her, and she spawned, laughed, and tried to break free, but he kept her pinned down.

“Yeh’ve got to say it!”

“I won’t,” she sang before collapsing into forced giggles, throat growing raw. He was relentless.

“Then I’ll keep going,” he sang back.

“Harry!”

“Y/N.”

“Fine!” She huffed, still letting out the odd chuckle, every now and then while the touch of his fingertips lingered. Unwilling to say it still, she paused, and he went back to tickling her. “Fine! I want no one but you to impregnate me!”

His fingers grew still, while his smirk only became larger. His green eyes twinkled teasingly.

“Oh, do you now?”

She sneakily slipped out of his hold, rolling a safe enough distance before putting on her most honest-to-God-above face and nodding affirmatively.

“Only you,” she bit back a smile, leaping out of bed and onto the cool hardwood. Already walking backwards with her front to him, who was laying inquisitively on the mattress, she finished:

“Well, you...and Timothee Chalamet.”

With this, she squealed at the expression on his face, first like a fish out of water, and then dangerous, and ran for her life. After counting for three seconds, giving her a headstart, Harry chortled and lifted himself from the bed; her name rolling off of his tongue threateningly while she giggled from the kitchen. With a smile so wide, it was positively ripping his face apart, he went after her.

MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #IMAGINE HARRY CHASING AFTER YOU #harry styles imagines #one direction #I SMILED SO BIG WRITING THE END OF THIS LMAO #fun fact: one of my fave people on this site actually had this dream

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skinks · 4 years

Note

Food for thot.....Richie getting rug burn on his face from getting pounded into the carpet. Yes its before an interview and yes its is from a tiktok but I don't know anyone that would appreciate this like u would. Thank u 😔

no, thank YOU!!! WOW!!! I know @pineapplecrushface wrote about Eddie having face rug burn in this post here and it’s such a funny concept I want it for Richie too.

Like, the heat comes from the fact that they couldn’t even wait to move to the bed. They’re cuddling on the couch, sweet kissing turns hotter, heavier, they’re rolling off the couch and knocking shit over on the coffee table, wrestling like they always used to. But now Eddie’s shoving himself up and noisily ripping his belt through the loops like grabbing a snake by its head behind the metal fangs. Both of them panting and swearing and laughing, Richie goading him on like c’mon slugger, c’mon baby, let’s see you go the fuck to town, except he gets more than he bargained for because Eddie’s going NUTS like I wanna, Rich I really fucking wanna, on your front, your knees, let me, and Richie’s already trying to turn over, kicking his pants down his sweating thighs and grinning so hard he can hardly reply back yeah yeah yeah fuck me through the floor, Eddie, ‘course I’ll let you, you can do anything you put that batshit little mind to.

And y’know, Richie grabs a leg of the coffee table for purchase but that’s getting shoved across the floor with the force of it too. Movie’s still playing. Feels briefly surreal, the sound of a chic Soderbergh heist chopped up roughly between the louder sounds of fucking, and of getting fucked. His other hand’s ripping scores against the pile of the carpet, knees are burnt, glasses are nearly bent against his face until he pushes them up and off and Eddie takes them away because his hand is there, suddenly, grabbing Richie’s fucked up hair like he can’t bear not to be touching him everywhere for reassurance now that Richie can hardly see.

Eddie’s everywhere, the glide of his thighs and the scrape of his shoved-down jeans burning open the insides of Richie’s spread legs, the stretch and pressure angling down tight into his stomach as Eddie presses his cock balls-deep and yanks hard on Richie’s hips at the same time. Pulls up, buries himself hard in Richie’s body and holds him there for a moment to grind the ridges of his abs right against Richie’s lower back, mossy with dark hair flattened to his tailbone. Eddie moans between his shoulderblades and Richie chokes into the carpet, Eddie holding him fast and pushing, pushing, socks rasping against the carpet to brace themselves.

It’s one of those fucks of a lifetime, every time he swings his feet up next to Eddie’s on the coffee table he’s gonna remember how he was so glad Eddie kept him face down and ass up, cause otherwise his entire dick and balls would be chafing a slick band of precum into the carpet too, burnt and red as their skinny little forearms got as kids, when they’d attack and grab at each other with both hands, twisting opposite directions til it hurt, because violence was the only way to touch each other with an audience back then and apparently the habit takes some breaking.

Now they’re good at breaking all their worst habits together. They can touch each other gently, even in public. After Eddie’s rubbed him raw against the floor and come so hard in short, sharp, knocking thrusts that left him shaken and incoherent against Richie’s aching shoulders, after he grabbed his own discarded shirt and, still hard and throbbing, coaxed Richie to buck his cum into it instead of the carpet—he smooths some aloe vera into Richie’s stinging cheek. They were still both naked and dripping, but he insisted.

Eddie’s always achingly sweet when he feels he’s gone too far, still sometimes forgetting there are ways to love each other rough that aren’t cruelty, and ways to care for each other soft that aren’t coddling.

It’s nice though, nostalgic for the times spent just the two of them, when the need to compete against and for each other’s attention waned and Richie could make a production of kissing Eddie’s twisted forearm better. Big smacking kiss between the red imprints of his own fingers, to match the burn in Eddie’s face as he grabbed at Richie’s noodly arm to give one back, never to be outdone.

“Hold still,” Eddie murmurs now. “I’m kissing it better.” He cups Richie’s other cheek and draws him down to kiss long and slow where the arch of his dark stubble turns an angry pink underneath. Puts his other arm around Richie’s shoulders and kneels there next to him on the bed, held right back around his waist. Gentling his lips all over Richie’s face.

“You kissing me better, baby? You little sex demon.”

“Yeah. You feel better?”

“I always feel better now. You kissed me all better.”

“Loved you all better.” Eddie turns him so he’s kissing at Richie’s broad, smiling mouth. “God. Gross. I love you so fucking much.”

“Ghh-huh. Ah. I love you, Eds.” For a moment Richie stares at him, helpless. One of his eyes always squints up harder when he grins, but Eddie likes being able to see the crinkly corners when Richie’s not wearing his glasses. He strokes them. Richie makes a tiny noise. “And they say I’m the sap.”

“You’re a fuckin’ pine tree.”

“Yep!” Richie sticks his tongue out gleefully, straight into Eddie’s mouth.

“Don’t say it—!”

“You climb me, and I get you all sticky!”

Eddie wheezes as Richie nuzzles into his shoulder, tightening his arms around Eddie’s waist. His sore cheekbone is hard and hot against Eddie’s cooling skin. “What are you—giggling about?!”

Richie falls back to the mattress, tugging Eddie down with him. The breath shudders through Eddie’s punctured, healed chest like there’s still a hole there and he squeezes his eyes shut against Richie’s collarbones. He shakes with it sometimes, how much of this he gets to feel and have and keep to himself, overwhelmed giddiness lurching his stomach out miles above his body. That’d be bad. He’s already lost a couple organs just for loving Richie Tozier, but the difference is—he can live without the organs.

Eddie squeezes Richie’s thigh between his own and hides his crumpling face in the fuzzy ditch of his broad chest, in case Richie thinks he’s upset and stops laughing.

He pinches the soft give of Richie’s tricep. He’s hugging Eddie so tight, his little yelp buzzes Eddie’s ear. “What are you fucking giggling about!”

“I have—I have that promo thing tomorrow, I’m gonna look like I made out with a brick wall!”

Eddie’s jostled with the gusts of Richie’s laughter. He keeps his eyes closed. He supports Richie’s career, he really does, but no matter how hard he tries Eddie can’t seem to stop providing juicy fodder for talk-show stories. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, it’s okay, you can get them to cover it up before—”

“No! No way, and pass up walking out there like Harvey fuckin’ Dent because my hot as hell boyfriend railed me across the floor like a lawnmower?”

“That doesn’t—you don’t fuck lawnmowers, how do you fuck a lawnmower!”

“Very carefully! You sound like one sometimes, though, Jesus, how you get all revved up. Okay, something about carpets matching drapes, or—wait, wait, Dented? Harvey Dented? Dented my ass, or something, there’s a joke there, I promise—”

Eddie gives in to the snort building up in his sinuses. Richie’s whole face is pink with happiness when Eddie levers himself up onto an elbow for a look at him, not just the rug burn like a strawberry birthmark blooming from his temple to his jaw.

“That’s weak shit,” Eddie says. Richie’s grin only gets wider when he sees Eddie’s laughing too, so Eddie nudges a kiss against his endearingly goofy-ass overbite. “Two-Face is obvious. You wanna do a Batman joke, it’s gotta be like—you wanna know how I got these scars?”

Richie shrieks with laughter at Eddie’s nasally Joker (really just an imitation of Richie’s, and thank fuck it’s improved from sounding vaguely Pennywise-ish, that’s a real mood-killer) and piledrives him over into the bedspread. “Genius! Genius, holy shit, you know it gives me such a boner when you do Voices! You wanna know how I got these scars? Well, one day, Daddy Kaspbrak came home all riled up and wanting to play—”

Eddie pretends to gag though his laughter, rubbing at the backs of Richie’s squirming thighs with his heels like a cricket. “Do not call me Daddy Kaspbrak when we’re naked—or ever, what the fuck—”

“Whipped his belt off—”

“No!”

“Hey Eddie, you wanna know how I got this jawline?” Eddie’s careful with Richie’s sore cheek, even as Richie’s gnawing at his throat. Cups his hand to it for protection against Eddie’s own stubbly jaw. Then Richie’s groping at one of Eddie’s asscheeks, lifting his thigh, and, shit, looks like this afternoon might be a twofer. “Do ya, Eddie?”

“Fine, how?”

Richie waggles his stupid eyebrows. “Lemme show you the workout!”

“Oh, Christ—don’t hurt your face,” Eddie gasps, but Richie’s already moving south.

The host asks about Richie’s face—obviously. It had faded a little from that vicious red, but not enough to escape attention, especially since his entire shit-eating demeanour was clearly begging for enquiry.

“What happened, man, you get in a fight?”

“No—no! Look at me, dude, I can’t even get heckled without being like yeah, you’re right. Y’know, you’ve got a point. If someone tried to fight me I’d probably join in.” Richie grins and glances at the camera. “Nah, I’m more of a lover.”

#ficlet #big huge shrug #reddie

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

Sex Tips 101: Domming Your Man

Kinktober Day Three ~ kink: dom!fem

pairing: bakugou katsuki x dom fem!reader

warning: smut, cussing

word count: 3,635

a/n: ITS LATE IM SORRY BUT ALSO SUB BAKUGOU???? sorry if you hate the format I liked it LMAO

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Everyone always expected Bakugou Katsuki to be a dom in bed. In their defense, they weren’t wrong for assuming so. Bakugou Katsuki was a leader, he loved to be in charge, hated being overrun. But that was outside of the bedroom. You knew him better.

Whenever your friends would ask how it was to sleep with bakugou, you would just smile, your eyebrow quirked. Everyone always assumed it was because Bakugou constantly had you against the wall.

Drilling into you until you couldn’t think.

Making you scream his name until your voice went raw.

“Come on, y/n-chan!” Mina cried as you once again avoided talking about your sex life with bakugou. “We told you about our stories! why won’t you tell us yours!”

As always, you laugh and place down your drink. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share, it was that Bakugou was embarrassed to admit that the one time he wasn’t in complete control was in the bedroom.

You looked at the curious faces of your beloved classmates and laughed again, thinking back to last night.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Bakugou walked into the house, he was utterly and completely ready for you tonight.

Having a day off from work, you had spent your free time sending Bakugou… provocative pictures. The entire time he ignored you, only leaving you with a growing smirk. You knew that every time you sent something, within two minutes Bakugou was opening it. It didn’t matter where he was, hell, you were positive he took his phone out during an interview today! He may not be responding, but you could feel his annoyance and growing want through the screen.

So now he was home. throwing his bag on the ground, he walked through the halls quietly, hoping to catch you off guard.

His vermillion eyes locked on you sitting by your vanity mirror. Your hair was curled delicately, red lipstick stained your plump lips as you stared into the mirror. With your fingers running through your hair, you micro adjusted things before smiling softly.

Bakugou watched as you stood up, his black t-shirt swamped over your torso, ending right beneath the swell of your ass. His mouth felt dry as he continued staring at you. Your shimmery eyeshadow catching in the light of the room as your eyes slowly locked on him.

A kind smile fills your face. Warm, inviting, welcoming. It was everything Bakugou wanted from you, but after a long day of teasing, it just wasn’t what he needed. “Hi, baby.” You drawl out, your steps are agonizingly small as you walk to him, your painted lips kissing his.

Bakugou growls lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest as he pulled you close. His fingers dug into your hips as your arms wrapped around his neck. “You’re such a fucking tease,” Bakugou snaps, his lips trailing your neck as you exhale softly. Soft giggles hit his ears as his hand's stroke down to grab your ass. The soft flesh filling his hands. “You have no idea how annoying it is to see you in those clothes, not able to do anything about it.”

“Do something about it then,” You smile as your fingers tangle into his thick ash-blond hair. Your eyes closing as he grinds his crotch into you.

“I will.”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Your eyes trained on the girls, a smile on your face as you took another sip of your tea. You shrug your shoulders as you place the cup down, moving your hair to the side as you displayed the arrangement of purple and yellow bruises on your neck.

“OH MY GOD!” Mina shrieks as she presses her face near your neck, her eyes wide as the other girls try to slip in. Everyone was curious to see the hickies on your flesh.

“That doesn’t surprise me!” Jirou laughs as she covers her face, embarrassed.

“My darling prudes,” Hagakure’s voice interrupts everyone, and the table stares at the invisible girl who places her hand to your face. “The real question is: where they place before, during, or after sex?”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Bakugou’s mouth sucked harshly on your neck in multiple areas. His teeth nipping your skin as your fingers roamed his chest. You let him have his way with you, his built-up frustration from the day seeping out as he walked you towards the bed. Pants escaping your lips as you can feel the nth hickie on your neck.

The back of your legs hit the mattress, and you go down, Bakugou fluidly following you to the surface. You hum contently against his determined lips, and you get Bakugou to submit to a much slower pace as you unhook a single arm around his neck. You crawl backward on the mattress, Bakugou shifting to keep up with your fleeting form. As soon as you feel the headboard of the bed frame, you grin against his lips. Tucking a single leg around him, you rolled the two of you around, straddling his waist. His vermillion eyes opening as he pants. Lust and need heavy in his eyes, and you giggle.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You smile, taking her hand off your face as you shake your head, “It was before and during.”

“Okay, you know that I would never, ever actually date Bakugou, but I have to admit… I would not mind sleeping with him. If you know… you never dated him, to begin with.” Mina admits, her cheeks puffing slightly. “I really just want to be controlled and dominated! Is that so much to ask for?”

“I think sometimes you just need to take over,” You say, trying not to reveal the secret in your sex life. “Dominate the dicks for a change!”

“Like you’ve dommed??? With a guy like Bakugou, I wouldn’t be surprised if you never commanded him before!”

There’s agreeing laughter, and you laugh the same, a knowing smile on your face as you grab your teacup. You take a slow drink.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You pull off Bakugou’s top, your hair falling messily back onto your shoulders as you toss it to the side. Bakugou’s breathing hitches as he takes in your form. You’re clad in a rose gold lace flutter bodysuit. The sheerness of the fabric leaves nothing to be imagined, and the intricate lacing over your breasts makes Bakugou moan in anticipation.

“You were not wearing this one earlier,” Bakugou snaps as his hands grasp your waist, and you laugh. “Where the fuck is the set you wore when you were teasing the hell out of me?”

“I figured you wanted to see this new piece!” You interject, a smile on your face. You didn’t really care for the other set, while this one was nowhere near as sexy as the black piece you owned, you didn’t want Bakugou getting too riled up for what you had planned for him. You lean against him, your breasts pressed against his clothed chest, and your lips ghosting the shell of his ear. “Besides, you forgot to greet me… I don’t think I loved that.”

A soft whimper escapes his mouth as you pull away with a sadistic grin, “Well, maybe if you didn’t fucking tease me all day I wouldn’t have been--mmph!!”

You effectively shut him up with a kiss, your hands immediately snaking under his shirt to run against his toned muscles. You roll your hips up and down his crotch, smirking when you feel his arousal through his pants. Oh yeah, he was not going to enjoy tonight.

“Now, I’m gonna tie your hands to the bed.” You say as you quickly roll off Bakugou, leaving him breathless and dizzy headed as he attempts to sit up. Before Bakugou can even adjust to the lack of your body on his, you’re back on, your hips grinding into his as you pull off his shirt. Your mouth trailing down his torso as he groans. “Hands up.”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“Well, I don’t think I really want to know about Bakugou-san in this way…” Momo admits to the group, and their attention is momentarily diverted away from you.

“Yaomomo,” Uraraka begins to speak, a teasing tone in her voice. “Our very good friend needs help for domming a dominant boy! It is our job as her friends to help her out!”

“Yes!” Mina and Hagakure shriek as everyone whips their heads around to you, stars gleaming in their eyes.

“I will give you your first tip!” Mina announces, a cunning smirk on her face. “Tip number one: tell him you want to try something new.”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“I’m going to try something new tonight.” You sigh as you fasten the silk fabric around the bed frame. Your hands tugging on the ropes as you stare at the flustered Bakugou underneath you, his breathing is eerily calm, but his pupils are blown up in anticipation. “All you’re going to be able to do is go along with it.”

“You know, I can easily break out of these bonds, right?” Bakugou informs you, his arms testing the bonds and he nods. He can break out of them for sure.

“Then do it.” You breeze, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you stare at him, challenging him. Bakugou could win if he wanted to, but you know him thoroughly, he wouldn't dare.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“Next tip,” Hagakure interrupts the conversation where you were playing dumb. You just weren’t sure how to bring up something new to him! “Start with a simple command.”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Bakugou throws his head back hissing loudly as your mouth sucked a bruise onto his collarbone. Your eyes locked on his turned head as his hips buck into yours. It throws you off slightly, the pleasurable tingles running through your core at the pressure. Your lips continue trailing down, your teeth grazing his nipple. Your hand moving to pinch his free nipple as you focused on one.

A smirk on your face as he calls out your name, his red eyes snapping back on your pouty lips as you left lipstick stains around his stimulated nipple. You suck on it gently, rolling the skin with your tongue and Bakugou barks words at you. Words you don’t understand as you finally bite down on his sensitive skin. Your tongue is quick to lash out and soothe his inflamed skin with your tongue, his moans telling you that you had done it just right.

You shift over to give his other nipple the same treatment, only this time Bakugou manages to have his eyes locked on your the entire time.

You pull away with a satisfying pop. You look down, smiling at the sight of the shiny and slick skin of his pecks, and you lean down. You blow soft cold wind over the few areas of wet skin and relish in the way your name is groaned from his lips. As if this was some rehearsed dance, your hands slam into the mattress by his head.

“You’re not allowed to come until I let you come, okay?” You ask, your face leaning in close.

“I’ll come whenever I damn well please it!” Bakugou snaps at you, and your eyebrow raises. You lick your lips, relishing at the feeling of his body now trembling underneath yours. Oh yeah, this was going to make Bakugou a pile of mush by the end of the night.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“Tip number twenty,” Uraraka speaks up, surprising everyone there. “Make him beg.”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

The sharp intake of breath from Bakugou caused you to giggle as your hand stroked his hardened dick through his underwear.

You maintained eye contact with him as you took off his underwear, your hands now gripping the hot skin of his cock. Running your tongue along the underside of his dick, you made your way back down to the base, your teeth teasing the sensitive skin. The stuttering groans from Bakugou’s mouth enticing you to continue. Your tongue licked the tip of his head, the salty taste of pre-cum hitting your senses. Your tongue lay flat on the underside of his cock, and you slowly sank your mouth around his cock. Bakugou let out a rough breath through his nostrils as his legs tremble intensely. Your free hand moved to Bakugou’s balls, squeezing them between your fingers, his legs twitching in surprise.

You pushed yourself further down his cock, your tongue swirling around his length as you took him in deeper. You felt his tip hit the back of your throat you pulled up, gagging on his dick, but you drown it with a hum. Bakugou’s eyes clamped at your actions, cursing you as he tried to conceal his lewd noises.

Bakugou stared back at you and gave you a darker glare. It was challenging, once again, but you knew better. His hands slam against the restraints, and you have to remind yourself not to laugh as the lewd noises of your throat being stretched out by his dick resonate in the room.

This time Bakugou groaned deeply, his hips bucking up towards your touch as he almost cries in frustration. You smirked up at him as you continue your movements, uncaring of his pleas for you to go faster. Your speed is agonizingly slow.

Bakugou grunts as you pick up your pace. The hums now intermingling with gagging as his dick continued to hit the back of your throat. The sounds only exciting Bakugou further.

His cock twitches in an all too familiar way, and you pull away. Saliva trailing on his dick and your lips as you gently pat your wet lips.

Bakugou’s eyes are wide in anger, frustration, and lack of release.

“You fucking--”

“Ah ah ah! You can’t come yet.” You remind him, and you shift over his aroused cock and straddle his chest as you lean down whispering against his lips. “Maybe if you beg for it, I’ll let you off with a lighter sentence.”

His vermillion eyes burst with a million emotions, but you grin at the most prominent ones. Refusal, love, and lust.

Bakugou Katsuki was, after all, the biggest sub on the planet with the attitude of a dom.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“I think, I get it now!” You exclaim happily, your eyes shining with faux realization as they finished telling you their tips and tricks for dominating men who were unwilling to give control to anyone but themselves. “It seems to me that within the fifty-three tips you guys gave me, the most important is that it’s okay to be rough? I felt that it was a common theme for about forty of them!”

“You have to be rough sometimes,” Tsuyu agrees her finger to her mouth as she pondered. “If you aren’t they’ll try taking over.”

“Yeah, especially someone like Bakugou!”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Bakugou was sweating profusely. His chest heaving with frustration and from constant denial.

You dropped the vibrating ring to the bedside with a laugh as you painted yet another bruise onto his tanned skin. “You’re such a good sub.” You moan as you rub your slicked wet core onto his dick. Bakugou groaning in lust as his hips bucked, desperate for both your pussy to be wrapped around him, and for the release he had been denied.

Five times now.

You had made out with him so intensely at one point, he almost came in his shorts, you then face fucked him twice, rode him once, and now he could not remember his own name anymore as you stopped the torture with the vibrating ring.

“Do you wanna cum?”

“Fucking shit, y/n!” Bakugou yelled, but there was no malice in his voice, only the gravely tone of his arousal in his voice. “Please, god fucking hell, I wanna fucking come inside of you!”

You easily laugh, and Bakugou sighs as your swollen lips are pressed against his own. The first time in a while, and he moans softly as the kiss is slow. It’s slow, and sweet with your hands threading through his hair in a way that makes his mind spin.

“Let’s get you to come.” You promise against his mouth, as you lean towards the headboard. You quickly untie the silk ropes, and Bakugou’s hands fling to your waist. His grasp is tight, bruising even.

You moan slightly at his touch, rather impressed that he did not try to assert his faux dominance over you.

“Please baby,” Bakugou begs against your lips, and a shiver runs down your spine. He’s putty in your hands and is relying on you to get him over the edge.

You break away from the kiss and position yourself over the tip of his dick once again. “Ready?” You ask as his fingers grip even tighter around your hips. Bakugou nods his head, and you sink yourself onto his dick. Hisses escape both your lips at the since forgotten feeling, your hops moving to help better the initial pain.

But the single movement is too much for Bakugou to spare, and he comes hard in you. Your eyes shine brightly as his grunts are soundless, his fingers digging harder into your definitely bruised skin. “Did you just--?”

“Please, shut up…” Bakugou pants, his eyes sealed shut. You stilled for a bit, trying to see if he was wanting to continue on despite his… early release.

Deciding to test the waters, you swivel your hips into a small circle, and Bakugou’s jaw falls open. You can feel him hardening within you in seconds as you shift again. “Oh shit, why are so--FUCK--why are you so damn tight?!”

His head is thrown back as you begin to ride his cock, your own arousal building up entirely too quickly at the sight of your blond, sweating, and quivering lover underneath you. You lean against his chest, your naked chest pressed tightly against his, you ass bouncing as his grip intensifies. Your lips seek his out, and he kisses you with ferocity.

The kiss is sloppy, teeth clashing, and wet noises emitting from your mouth as you grind down tightly against him. “Baby, you’re so fucking big!” You shrill softly into his ear as his hips begin to slam into you.

It seems that he was still near his high as he comes again into you.

The ecstatic laugh that is heard from you makes Bakugou growl in anger. He may be a sub, but he definitely did not enjoy this humiliation. In your current state of amusement and pleasure, he begins to thrust deeply into you. His movements overpowering yours as the power of who was in charge was quickly turning.

Gasps leave your mouth as you arch off him, your hands on your breasts as you play with your nipples. You get the timing right and are soon bouncing in rhythm to his powerful thrusts, but he’s testing waters, trying to get you to come too.

You realize this as you scream out his name, your pussy throbbing and dripping from your arousal, his name the most repeated word on your lips. Bakugou sits up so that you’re riding him in a seated position, and you pant into his neck as you pull his hair harshly. The stuttering grunt from his voice causes you to sigh in satisfaction, and in his own moment of pleasure, you grind your hips in the opposite direction of what you had initially begun at. YOur bounces are higher, the penetration is deeper, and Bakugou is pleading for you to come around him.

You’re panting, your hips desperate as they turn, as you almost crumble as with a snap of his hips Bakugou hits your g-spot.

It’s over and over, your g-spot is slammed into and muffled shrieks escape your lips as you attempt to drown them with Bakugou’s mouth.

The two of you pant hot breaths of air into each other's mouths.

The liquid heat in you pooling out until you begin to see white.

The coil is tightening with no mercy as Bakugou’s mouth latches onto your breast, his hands gripping your bouncing ass.

“I’m going to--ahhh oh my god, yes ‘Suki like that!!--I need to come!” You moan, your head tossed backward as your speed and roughness increases.

Bakugou keeps up, his face buried into your neck now as he nods his head, unable to speak.

“Please... come…” His voice is small, begging, pleading for you to come, and that’s all it takes.

You scream as you come around his throbbing cock. Your walls clenching tightly around him as you ride out your orgasm. Bakugou hisses as his hips falter under yours, and with an echoing moan, he releases too.

Panting, he falls back. Without bothering to remove yourself, the two of you groan as you lay against his chest, your fingers tracing shapes into his chest. “How was that?” You ask unaware if the orgasm denial was something he was going to like.

“Humiliating…” Bakugou gruffs into your ear, but his tone indicates that he enjoyed it.

“I’m glad.” You say as you place a kiss against his jawline.

“I love you…” Bakugou whispers utterly exhausted.

“I love you too,” You agree, a smile painting your bruised and lipstick-stained lips. “Do you need anything?” You ask him as you snuggle into his chest.

“A fucking nap…”

“That sounds fantastic.”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“I’ll have to try it out one night, who knows maybe it’ll work!” You laugh as the girls look at you not quite believing you would try it out.

“You promise?”

“With all my heart, but I have to go! Bakugou’s expecting me!” You say as you stand up, gathering your things as you throw a few yen on the table to pay for your tab. “You know girls if you want, I think I’ll actually try your tips!”

“YES QUEEN, GO DOMINATE THAT DICK!!!!!”

You walk away laughing as a text comes in from Bakugou.

katsuki: what’s the harness for?

#bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou scenarios #bakugou smut #bnha #bnha writing blog #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #mha #mha x reader #mha bakugou #burnedbyshoto does kinktober #bnha kinktober #mha kinktober #dom reader #bakugou katsuki

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h0esvck · 4 years

Note

A BTS reaction to creampie maybe?

I love creampie's 🤩

Namjoon

Tonight was the night, it was the night you were gonna do it and Namjoon was gonna cum inside. You had been researching the best contraceptives and you had everything prepared. So you decided to go for it. You had both wanted this for a while, and it would be Namjoon's first time of cumming inside of someone so you were excited. So here you were having sex, Namjoon was going harder and more passionate than usual, knowing the ending would be the most exciting part for both of you. And once you had cum, Namjoon thrust a few deep times into you, burying himself all the way before groaning deeply as he came. Watching Namjoon cum was phenomenal on its own, but when he was cumming inside of you it just made your whole body throb in pleasure. He pulled out slowly, eagerly looking between your legs and watching as the white liquid slowly oozed out of your little hole which he had been pounding for a good portion of an hour. "Damn baby, you look so pretty like this, thank you baby " he collected his cum on his fingers and pushed it back inside of you, fingering you with it until you came a second time. It was just that hot that he had to make you cum again.

Seokjin

No contraceptives, no protection, just feeling one another... And maybe wanting to get pregnant. The sex was hot and fast and Jin was kissing all over you praising your body as he would praise his own, because you're beautiful. All of you. He loved every part of you, that's why you were his because of the love he had for you, you fell in love with how he cared for you. And now he got you, you were his, all his to love and kiss and fuck. Fuck, he was gonna cum. He kissed you deeply, rubbing your clit quickly, silently urging you to cum on his cock before he came as he fucked up into you in front of a mirror. He hated cumming first, he always felt like less of a man if he did. When you came around him, throbbing around his cock he moaned and let himself go as well, pumping his cum up into your awaiting cunt and making you gasp his name as you felt it fill you up. He pulled back and looked at you in the mirror, seeing his cum dripping out around his cock as he slowly fucked it into you. "It feels so good inside, " you moaned and he smiled kissing you again, he would never not be cumming inside of you from this day forward. It was too good in the mirror seeing his cum leaking out on his cock from you.

Yoongi

After an interview, he had been pissed off by some of the ridiculous questions, some downright stupid one's as well. He was just... He needed and outlet for his frustrations... Enter you. So he was fucking you sideways in the boy's dressing room kissing you passionately and going so rough. It all felt so good. You had already cum once on his tongue, so getting ready to orgasm a second time you whimpered. "P-please cum inside, " the suddenness of your question made him stop for a second and look at you with wide eyes, questioning. But when you nodded and said it was okay he picked up the pace immediately. He was so fucking close now. And when he came he groaned loudly, slamming his hips into yours, feeling his cum around his cock. Fuck that was so... It was so hot to feel his cum inside of you. You apparently liked the feeling as well because you came a second time, holding out him tight with one hand as your toes curled and your body twitched a bit from the pleasure. You guys heard about this later, taking up the dressing room for a good 30 minutes together. But neither of you cared. You could only think about how his cum was in you, and dripping out, staining your panties no doubt.

Hoseok

It was a way of stamping his property. Hoseok was mad. Mad at you, mad at Jimin. Fuck. You had been talking about how handsome and sexy Jimin was, and how great do a dancer all fucking day long. He was tired of it. You should be talking about him like that! So here you were, face down on Jimin's bed, taking Hoseok's cock as he absolutely obliterated your pussy. "Huh, you like that?" He pushed your face down into Jimin's bedsheets. "You like smelling him while you take your boyfriend's cock? I alone have rights to you, I own you, I own this body, I own this pussy, I own all of you." He slapped your ass and you cried out gripping the bedsheets nodding alone "yes, you own me, only you, only you Hoseok, " you moaned and Hoseok grinned fucking you fast and hard. "I'm gonna prove it by marking you, " he said and you whimpered. And long story short, he came inside. He filled you up and let you drip down onto to Jimin's bed, your body shaking from the painful pleasure he gave you. "Now go sit on his pillow, and rub one out on it and let him know who owns that pussy, " he said and you blushed but listened, cumming on Jimin's pillow while Hoseok watched. He didn't bother cleaning it up either. And he sure got an earful from Jimin but he didn't give two fucks. Now everyone knew you were his, and willingly so.

Jimin

It was in Paris, after he proposed, you were on the blanket spread on the balcony, lit candles all around you and your gorgeous ring now on your finger as he fucked into you passionately. You couldn't help looking at your ring and how it glittered in the moonlight of Paris. "Cum- cum inside, " you managed out between thrusts and Jimin gave you a look like you were his favorite person ever. "Oh my God I love you, " he kissed you deeply and fucked you harder. He came inside, both of you gasping at how unexpectedly good it felt, and how much you really enjoyed it. Jimin so spent time after, eating you out, and making you cum from his mouth as he spread his cum all through your folds in a sexy way. This was the best engagement you could ask for. Being proposed to in Paris at a candlelit picnic dinner on a balcony, and then making love on said balcony. Yep, certainly one you wouldn't forget.

Taehyung

The wedding night. You were spending your honeymoon somewhere cold and you both were freezing until you started touching each other. Then it was like a fire had started between you both, and the more you touched the more sparks flew. There is nothing like the first night a man spends with his wife on their wedding night. It's emotional, it's bonding and it's special. It's theirs. And tonight was no different. Taehyung didn't even have to ask, you wanted him to cum inside for the first time, wanted to feel that part of him new and warm and so wet. You were both moaning and grinding your bodies against one another after you had both cum. You didn't part for a while, it almost being like Taehyung wanted to keep everything of him inside of you for as long as he could. He wanted to be one with you for as long as possible. It was... So romantic... And so many kisses and I love you's were shared between you. It was a perfect first night of your married life.

Jungkook

You were both so fucking horny, so horny and pent up. You hadn't seen each other for a good month or two because he was touring and right now you were having your reunion sex. You had both wanted it to be romantic but you two horny bastards had turned it into rough desperate sex. Both of your clothes weren't even fully off and Jungkook was pounding into your wet cunt, getting off from each other's bodies. "Fuck, yes Jungkook don't stop!" He moaned your hands pressing against the headboard of the bed to hold yourself steady as he fucked you into the mattress. It was squeaking and shaking because of how rough and wild you were going. It was insane. And when you came Jungkook's mind was so deep in pleasure he didn't even think before he was thrusting in again and cumming deep inside. "Mmm, God, " he moaned biting his bottom lip. The pleasure only lasted for a few seconds though before you were gasping, both your eyes wide seeing as he had cum inside. "Jungkook!" "Shit-!" He swore and pulled out apologizing over and over before saying "Fuck, " because of how hot his cum looked dripping out of your pussy. You rushed to get plan B, and you took it, your period came regular and you both were so relieved. But you would look forward to the day he'd be cumming inside with no worries or cares of getting pregnant. And when that day came you two didn't stop having sex for the whole day. It was just, eat sleep and have sex. It was heaven.

Masterlist ⛥彡

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herb-whump · 3 years

Text

Summer Job

I'm dying its 2 am god help me

Taglist: @albino-whumpee @torture-as-lovely-as-you

Let me know if you want to be tagged in other stories than Don't get far away Precious or not cause i do not know shit about taglists

CW/ manipulation and abuse mentions and threats, slight rape mention

Mikołaj went to sleep finally, squeezing himself next to the mattress on the hard floor. It wasn't pleasant, and he always woke up a little cranky afterward.

- Honey. - A familiar voice woke him up for good. It was his mom, softly smiling at him - I made breakfast... it's not much but you still gotta eat something.

- Okay... - Mikołaj sighed, blushing a bit. His mom still treated him like a little boy sometimes.

He sat down at the table next to his little brother. There wasn't much for breakfast. Some buns bought on the end of the day sale, with cheese and tomatoes, and cheap black tea to drink. Mikołaj looked down at the cup, the water was muddy, it wasn't of the best quality around these parts of the city.

- thank you, mom... For the breakfast - he smiled a little and the woman nodded. - I have to go to work soon so I probably won't eat a lot.

- But it's Sunday, I thought you would stay home today. - Magda frowned - You already work too hard during the week. You should get some rest.

- I was hoping we would go hang out today...! - his brother pouted, not happy.

- Mom, Tymek, I have to, and it's not a big job either. I will try to be back sooner today, I promise.

Magda wouldn't push her son anymore to stay, so she just sighed with a pained expression.

He ate one bun and drank the tea as fast as he could. Got a change of clothes and left the house, with a simple "I love you" while leaving. A man from another block of flats said he will pay him for repairing his shower. The man was an acquaintance of his. While they weren't friends, they talked a bit, and Mikołaj accidentally confessed to having this dire situation with money.

He knocked on the front door, to soon be greeted by the man. His name was Josef, and he was a middle-aged man, with short brown hair and round glasses. A kind face and from what Mikołaj could gather, he was a father to two kids, and after a divorce.

- Here you are! I was waiting for you. - Josef chuckled softly and invited the boy inside, showing him what was wrong with the shower, which Mikołaj started working on almost immediately - You know Miko, You need quick money right?

- Yeah, kinda... - Mikołaj bit his lip. - stupid shower head...

- Listen here, I know this guy, he has a work agency. He mostly hires young strong men like you, you work abroad, and earn much more this way. Usually only for about a month or two.

- w-wait really? - Mikołaj stopped for a bit. It sounded... A little shady to say the least. But he did worse things and if a kind father is recommending this, maybe it's actually a good opportunity. - Can you give me the guy's number? I will call him today if I can.

- Sure thing Miko. - The man smiled.

After finally fixing the shower, Josef wrote down the man's number on a piece of paper, paid Mikołaj, and sent him home. But before he returned to his mom and brother, the boy sat down at a secluded bench in the local park. He stared intensely at the number Josef wrote down. He was still debating if he should call it. But he didn't have many options at this point. He slowly put the number in his phone and rang.

- Good evening, how can I help you? - the voice belonged to a young woman, it was calm and soft.

- Uhm... Good evening. I've heard of job offerings in this agency. My friend, Josef recommended I call.

- Ah! Yes, yes! Of course! So you will need to send us your resume and talk in person of course - The woman explained everything

Except what the job abroad actually was. But Mikołaj didn't think much of it. If it made money and wasn't prostitution, he was in.

It was some time for the in-person meeting to happen, but it wasn't at all what the boy had imagined.

The man sitting before him was not much older than Mikołaj himself, 30 at most, but Mikołaj gave him 26. He had dark black messy hair, medium length. Brown eyes and wore sunglasses on his head. Golden chains on his neck and other expensive jewelry. He looked rich, to say the least. Not to mention the place of the meeting. Almost empty office room, in a freshly built business complex. Most of the spaces in it were just put out to be rented.

- Hi Mikołaj. - The man spoke up with a giggly, yet deep voice - You can call me Vasya. You're just going to sign those papers and you're hired for the month. If all goes well maybe we will hire you for a month more. - He slid a few papers on the table.

- N-no questions? I thought this was an interview... I mean don't get me wrong please, I'm just really surprised. - He chuckled nervously, slowly looking down at the papers.

- No questions. I think your resume said enough and just from looking at you, I think you will be a great fit. We need healthy, strong young men. It will be a physically taxing job but you wrote you did many jobs like that.

- I guess... - With shaky hands he took the papers in his hands, trying to comprehend what he was actually signing. But seeing the pay, stated at the end was enough to make him stop reading, and just take the pen. He signed it, never asking any more questions. This much money will get them a better flat and food for sure.

Even if the job was gross or heavily taxing, he will bear it. It's only a month, right? And if it's great, he can work for two months. That would secure their life for a long time.

He came back home with the news and a smile on his face. He burst through the door and hugged his mom tight

- O-oh dear! You got the job I presume. - his mom laughed and tousled his hair with a gentle expression. - I'm just sad you're going to be gone for a month or two.

- Mikołaj! So you're going? Is.. it bad I kinda hoped you wouldn't? You go out every day almost...

- I'm sorry Tymek. I really am. I promise after I come back, we're going to move to a nice place and I'm gonna spend much more time with you. - Mikołaj smiled softly, trying to comfort his little brother.

- I suppose... But you really promise, right? - he noded - Okay. Please call us every day though!

- I will. They will come to pick me up by bus the day after tomorrow, so I have to start packing soon. - the brown-haired boy hugged them both again and went to the other side of the room to search for a bag to pack.

The departure day came soon. It was a warm June morning, Mikołaj was standing at a bus stop near his house, waiting for the work bus to come. Clutching his bag in his hand, he looked up at the bus stop screen for the time. It was a little late, but when he looked away from the clock, the bus was coming from the other street. It stopped and opened its door.

- Mr. Kasperczyk? - The bus driver looked at him suspiciously - Show your ID

- Sure. - Mikołaj nodded and showed his ID, the driver promptly inviting him on board.

He walked into the bus, full of young men, probably not much older than himself. Some sat alone, sulking or sleeping, some laughed together in pairs. Seems normal enough. Mikołaj sat down in an empty seat and tired, pressed his head between the window and the seat, slowly falling asleep, still clutching his bag.

He slept through the whole journey, only the familiar face of Vasya, seemingly his new boss, waking him up.

- Wakey wakey sleepy-head. You all have to settle in your rooms. - He smiled. He had a charming aspect to his demeanor, but it kind of made Mikołaj uneasy. He nodded and stood up.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to treat Vasya, so he'd rather avoid him.

- I will visit all of you in the evening after dinner, okay? - Vasya waved them goodbye and jumped right back into the bus. Was he on it the whole time and Mikołaj didn't notice? Maybe.

The boy looked around. The building was clearly a worker hotel but didn't look too cheap. It looked cozy, and the receptionist informed them they had all separate rooms. She also gave them the keys, and information regarding breakfast and dinner hours. It was all provided for. Mikołaj got a room on the second floor. He opened the wooden door, to see a comfortable-looking room, it was small, smaller than their already small flat but it was more than enough for him. The bed had a birch wooden frame, it was made, and covered with a soft beige blanket. Next to it was a big window and a nightstand, and a wardrobe, all made from birch to fit with the bed. The bathroom was also private. the door was on the right of the entrance, it was also pretty tiny, but it had a shower, toilet, and a sink, all relatively clean, so what more could he ask for?

Mikołaj put the bag down next to the bed and sent a quick text to his mom that he got there safely, and first taking off his shoes, he laid down on the bed. It was soft... and so comfortable. He cracked a little smile, he will buy a similar bed for himself when he gets back for sure. No more back pain and cranky mornings. He could lay in this bed for an eternity... almost forgetting what he was actually here for. Work. Physical work at that.

He rolled around on the bed until dinner time came around. It was probably the first time in forever he would eat an actual dinner, usually, it was just lunch, sometimes breakfast. The boy jumped from the bed and stretched a little.

- Foood... - He smiled, his belly growling from just a thought.

The dining room was pretty small, for sure all of the workers from the bus did not end up in the same hotels. He looked around. The tables were for two, max five people, and it was a buffet. A buffet... all you can eat one. Ah, how he wished it was like this every day at home. Or that at least he could share with his family but alas.

The buffet tables were filled with food, it wasn't the most expensive kind, but it made mikołaj salivate at the mere thought. Sausages, bread and a toaster for it, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggs, and different jams, cereals, and porridge, fresh fruit, coffee, tea... It was a feast for Mikołaj, and afterward, he returned to his room, full, completely forgetting the visit from Vasya was supposed to happen. So he was relaxing in his room until a knock snapped him out of the light mood.

- Yes?

- It's me. I said I'd come. - It was the man's voice, giggly as always. Mikołaj opened the door and let him in. - You probably want to know what is the job right. - he chuckled a bit, and closed the door, yet still positioning himself as if he was guarding the door.

- well... Yeah, and when do we start? - Miko sat down on the bed again, staring intensely at Vasya. - It's not like prostitution is it?

- No, we wouldn't trick you into prostitution, oh my! - Yet his face looked suspiciously calm. - But you would be surprised what people pay for nowadays. Good money! Tell me little Miko, you're probably used to being beaten up huh?

Mikołaj's face turned white, and he gulped, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. He knew just from looking at him, didn't he? Or was it the giant barely healed wound on his eye the giveaway. Either way, the boy didn't like it one bit.

- What do you mean? - He finally spits out, not looking at Vasya anymore.

- It's simple, people pay for getting one of you, for ten hours, to do whatever they like. The rules are simple, no fatal injuries or rape, or else they deal with me and that's not going to be pleasant. I'm not a monster, I wouldn't let random people actually hurt you! - He said with a grin. - If customers like you, you get paid more usually. You can also agree to do sexual things but you don't have to. It actually doesn't pay that much around these parts.

- So you... You send us to be basically abused for ten hours and you pay us for it. What... What the fuck is wrong with you?

- Careful with those words, pretty boy. - the grin disappeared from the man's face, sending a chill down Mikołaj's spine. - You don't have a choice anymore. You signed your fate away for at least a month! If you break the contract, this family of yours will probably end up on the street soon. Time is ticking, you better do something. I'm giving you a generous offer!

- Sh-shut it. - He bit his lip. Vasya was right, they were on the verge of homelessness. - Okay. It... it's only one month.

- If they like you and you agree maybe tw-

- I know! Fine, holy shit, I will do it! Just... Send the money directly to my family alright?

- Will do that. I hope you stay for longer little Miko! Ah, you have an appointment already tomorrow, at noon, you will be escorted by a taxi from here. Good night and good luck! - He smiled and left the perplexed boy in his room.

#Summer Job #herb writes #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump blog

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nat-roman0ff · 5 years

Text

i think we’re okay

---

a city-wide power outage leaves you and shawn stranded at home trying to stay cool, and leads to an uncomfortable conversation about your future together.

wc: 2,945

warnings: f-bombs, sweat, & the word moist

---

When you wake up, it’s like, unbearably hot.

You can feel the cotton of Shawn’s shirt that you wore to bed clinging to your clammy skin. The sheets below you are damp with sweat. You’re overwhelmed by a heaviness in the air. Shawn’s snoozing form is next to you, cheek pressed into the pillow, mouth slightly agape and blissfully unaware of just how fucking hot it is in your shared bedroom.

“Shawn!” You groan, pushing on your boyfriend’s shoulder, “I think the aircon shit the bed last night. It’s like a billion degrees in here.”

Shawn lets out a struggled moan and buries his full face until the pillow, “I’ll check it in a minute.”

You (quite literally) peel off the sheet that covered you. Shawn had pushed his all off and it bunched in between the two of your, creating a barrier. You smack his boxer clad bum with your palm, “do it now please!”

He turns his head to face you, “so demanding,” he grumbles, pulling himself out of bed. You notice a thin layer of sweat across his back. He makes a face and shakes his sticky arms out, “we’re fucked if it’s out.”

You grab a hairtie from the nightstand and pull your hair up into a sloppy bun at the top of your head. It was an instant relief to have it off the back of your sticky neck. A single swipe of your hand wipes away some sweat and your damp baby hairs stick to your skin.

Shawn re-enters the room within just a few seconds, “bad news, babe.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“It’s not just the aircon,” he starts, rocking on his heels, “the whole power is out. Checked the hallway outside too and only the emergency lights are on. It must be the whole building.”

You clamor from the bed to the large window that faces the CN Tower and the city.

Everything was dark.

You rush back to the bed and grab your phone off the night stand. A quick check on the news reveals that the entire city is without power.

“A blackout?” Shawn scoffs, “Is that even possible in this day and age?”

You shrug, “it would appear so.”

He flops back onto the bed, “what percentage is your phone at?” He asks, scrolling.

“Ninty-seven percent, you?”

Shawn drops his phone to the bed, “eight, we’re fucked.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure it’ll be back on soon, relax.”

There’s a pool of sweat at the small of your back and you shift uncomfortably against the dampened sheets.

“We’re going to fucking die,” Shawn states wiping his forehead.

You roll off the bed, walking to the balcony door in your bedroom, “Shawn it can’t be that bad. Let’s open the door and get some fresh air in here.”

He smirks, “go for it, Princess.”

You’re met with immediate Hell fire, “oh my God. Satan called, he wants his weather back.”

You scramble to shut the door, silently cursing Shawn for never getting curtains or blinds for the condo. The blaring sunlight burns your skin even through the glass.It wasn’t just bad enough that the power was out, the city of Toronto was now going through record high temperatures that had never been seen before. That, on top of high humidity made the outdoors quite literally intolerable.

“What do we do now?” You ask, your skin wildly uncomfortable.

Shawn smirks, “I think I’ve got an idea.”

He lunges at you, picking you up from behind and tossing you onto the bed. Before you have a chance to protest, he’s got you pinned under him, both hands holding your wrists above your head and locking you in place. Shawn immediately attacks your neck, kissing and nipping at your burning skin.

It’s all fine and good, until you feel a certain...wetness. And not the good kind.

“Shawn!” He stops dead in his tracks.

“What?!” He questions, freeing your hands.

You wipe the bead of sweat that’s fallen from his temples onto your chest, “you’re sweating on me.”

He rolls off and back to his side of the bed. You swipe a finger up his bicep, his skin slick, “shit, you’re so wet.”

Shawn scrunches his face, “aren’t I the one that’s supposed to be saying that?”

You slap his arm.

He lets out a breathy laugh and looks toward the ceiling. This week was supposed to be just the two of you. Amazingly, Shawn had managed a week off between legs on his North American tour and came home to spend some time with you. He’d been home four days, and you both had barely left the bedroom long enough to eat a meal a day.

It wasn’t necessarily a new relationship. You’d been dating for well over a year, and been friends even longer. Shawn liked to keep your relationship private, though. He didn’t talk about you in interviews or share photos of the two of you online. He kept you all to himself. Most days it was fine, and you stayed within the bubble of his condo, or going out in groups so fans wouldn’t get suspicious. But it was starting to get tiring. Not that you wanted to scream it from the rooftops, by any means, that amount of attention was not something you were equipt for. You were just sick and tired of feeling like Shawn’s dirty little secret.

“Where do you think the coolest place is in here?” He asks.

You purse your lips in thought, “the bathroom floor maybe?”

Shawn sits up, fluffing his hair, “grab a pillow, we’re moving to the bathroom.”

While the bathroom floor is quite cool, it’s also very hard. It puts strain on your lower back, but the cool relief against your skin is much welcomed. Shawn plays with your hand, letting his fingers lace between yours as he brings it to his lips to press a kiss into the back of your fingers.

“Although this really fucking sucks, I’m glad to be home with you.” He mumbles against your skin.

You kiss his shoulder, “me too, but I think I need less clothes.”

You stand and Shawn watches, locking his fingers and placing them behind his head to enjoy the view. You carefully lift up the oversized shirt until it’s just below your breasts, then turn away from him to lift it over your head.

“Fuckin’ tease,” he mutters, poking your ankle with his foot.

You give him a cheeky flash before going back to the bedroom to throw on a bralette. The pajama shorts you’re wearing come off too, leaving you in just the lacy cloth and a mismatched pair of underwear.

Shawn’s moved to a different part of the floor when you return, bringing your pillow with him, “found another cold spot,” he pats the tile beside him, “I also much prefer this outfit,” he stares with wide eyes.

“Pervert,” you retort, making sure to put a little extra bend in when you sit back down on the ground.

You don’t lay down just yet, letting your back stretch for a moment. Shawn reaches up and holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “I miss you.”

“I’m right here, dummy.”

He rolls his eyes, “you know what I mean.”

You know where this is going.

“Can’t you take some time off of school? Just the first semester. Finish out this tour with me,” he pulls you down to kiss him, “please.”

It takes all you can to say it, “no, Shawn.”

His hand drops, “fine. But one day I’ll get you to agree to it.”

A chill rolls up your spine when your skin makes contact with the fresh coolness, “dream on.”

Shawn presses his lips into your shoulder and leaves them there for a second before playfully nipping at your skin. The same argument always came up; travel with me, tour with me, come to this grand beautiful place with me. But it was the same response every time. It was hard, really, being away from him but you knew going into this relationship that you needed to still keep your sense of self, your goals, your dreams, and not just become the live in girlfriend of uber pop star Shawn Mendes.

That wasn’t the Shawn you knew and loved. Yes, you were always proud of his accomplishments and everything he’d done but that wasn’t the reason you were with him. You loved him for the moments like now: normal, at home. You were the last piece of his life that he’d been able to keep private and you adored that. Some days he begged, fucking pleaded with you to post a cute selfie with you, or a candid he’d caught on your morning coffee run. Just so someone besides you and close family and friends knew. But like traveling, the answer was always the same:

No.

“We should take a vacation,” Shawn mutters into your skin, “somewhere where the water is so clear you can see the bottom of the ocean. Somewhere where it’s just you and me for a bit. No distractions.”

“Oh yeah?” You lull your head over to face him, poking his nose, “and between which world tour or event do you suggest we take that trip?”

You guess you didn’t mean it to sound as harshly as it did, but Shawn sits up and scoffs, “you know, I’m really sick of you making me feel like I have to choose between you and my career. It’s not like any of this was a secret when you got together.”

“No, I’m the only secret here,” you quip, and you suppose its the heat that’s making you careless and brave.

Shawn just shakes his head and stands, leaving you alone on the bathroom floor. You hear the bedroom door slam shut and the squeak of your shared king sized mattress. Drama queen.

You give him a solid ten minutes before you decide to get up off the floor and go to the bedroom. You knock once and let yourself in. Shawn’s laying on the bed, his hands folded across his stomach, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey,” you poke his side, “I’m sorry for being such a bitch.”

He doesn’t look at you, “can’t apologize for what you are.”

Ouch.

You cuddle up next to him and he doesn’t dare move, but you can feel the muscles in his stomach constrict when you touch him, so that means he’s not completely pissed at you.

“I’m just scared, I think,” you start, Shawn still not flinching, “scared of people judging me because I’m a nothing nobody and you’re you. Scared that I’m going to get ripped apart by thousands of strangers who don’t know me or us. Scared that the media is going to make up stories about me and you. Scared to lose you -”

“That’s not going to happen,” Shawn cuts you off.

He finally looks at you, and his eyes are wet and he keeps swallowing something down.

“Which part?” You ask.

“All of it,” he chokes, reaching his arm around you to pull your body closer to his, “I love you so much sometimes I feel like I can’t take it anymore. Some days I wake up and feel like I’d drop everything just to be with you all the time and that’s the most terrifying thing I think that could ever happen to me. I never thought there’d be a day where I loved something more than what I do.”

“Shawn,” you sigh, “I’m not asking you to give up your career. That’s ridiculous. I just don’t want to only ever be known as that girl dating Shawn Mendes.”

His head drops to your chest and you thread your fingers through his hair. It’s wet from sweat but you don’t really care at this point.

“You should check Instagram,” he groans, “either you’re going to love me or hate me.”

You freeze, “Shawn-”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look up. Your heart pounds in your chest as you push him off of you to grab your phone, “Shawn what the fuck did you do?”

You open your phone and pull up Instagram. It’s the first post to pop up on your feed. It’s already gotten seven hundred thousand likes.

It’s a picture of the two of you from earlier this summer. You were at a picnic at his parents house. His mom had caught the two of you in an intimate moment and snapped the photo. You were on his lap, his arms wrapped around you. His face was held in your hands as you went in for a kiss, the smile on his face big and wide.

“You had no right -”

“Read the caption,” he cuts you off, then stands and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Your fingers shake as you scroll through:

Life is funny sometimes. And not in a way where like you watch your best friend get hit in the balls or something. It’s funny in a way that takes your life, and all the things you thought were the most special and the most important and introduces you to someone who makes those things seem so small and insignificant without their love. This is my girlfriend, by the way. We just celebrated our first year anniversary two months ago. She wasn’t with me because I was in Europe on tour and she was home, working her ass off in University. It’s been her request that we keep ourselves quiet from the world, and I’m pretty sure she’s going to kick my ass when she sees this in about five minutes but I don’t care.

Babe, I love you, and I never want you to be my secret. I want the world to know that I love you, and I know if the world got to know you a little more, they’d love you too. They’ll see all of your best qualities (and even love your worst, just like I do). They’ll see all the beautiful, fantastic things that I see in you. And if anyone has anything other than that to say? Fuck them. Because at the end of the day, you’re what’s most important to me right now, in these moments. And I wouldn’t trade them or you for anything else in the world.

Your hand covers your mouth and you choke back a little cry. Shawn isn’t one for many words, despite being a songwriter, he can just never seen to get it all out in a cohesive manner. You keep refreshing the page as the likes add up, and the comments section explodes with congratulations messages. You don’t dare to look beyond into the depths of them. You can only imagine the disgusting things that are being said.

Slowly, you felt the anger towards Shawn start to disintegrate. Yes, you were pissed he didn’t ask permission, and it was definitely going to be a discussion you had, that’s for sure. But it was the words written underneath that photo that you were focused on.

You made your way out of the bedroom to find Shawn sitting on the living room floor, “I didn’t want to get sweat prints on the couch,” he makes a face and wipes around his hairline, “I’m...moist.”

You groan, “first of all, don’t ever fucking say that word in my prescince ever again,” you take a step closer, “second of all, I love you.”

Shawn smiles wide and reaches his arms out to make grabby hands for you. You accept, despite the obnoxious heat and sit on his lap.

“I love you too. You’re melting on me,” he chuckles while his lips ghost your below your ear.

You play with the damp hair at the nape of his neck, “we’re going to talk about you posting that without my consent later, but I’m too hot to argue about anything else. I don’t like being mad at you.”

Shawn kisses your neck, “I don’t like being mad at you either,” he replies, squeezing his arms tighter around you, “this is all new for me, I’ve got to learn to talk to you about stuff that bothers me instead of just getting snippy like that. It’s not fair.”

“And I should be more understanding about your career,” you twist his curls mindlessly as you speak, his lips peppering your skin “it’s not a normal job you can choose to take time off of. There’s contracts and expectations. I know that it’s going to have to come first most of the time and I’m fine with that.”

Shawn stops to hold your face, his giant palm covering your cheek, “I love you.”

You roll your eyes, “you’ve already said that.”

“Well I’m saying it again,” he laughs before planting a kiss on your lips.

There’s a loud beep that snaps the two of you out of it. You can see the time on the stove blinking, and hear the soft whoosh of the aircon turning back on. You’re met with the instant relief of cool air from the duct above you.

“Oh my god, yes,” you moan leaning slightly back to take in all the feeling of the cold air.

Shawn scoffs, “damn I can barely get you to sound like that half the time.”

You stand and hum, “better get to working on it then.”

His hand is still held in yours and you step away to get him to follow but he tugs back on you gently, “Hey,” he starts, his voice serious, “are we okay?”

You smile and kiss the back of his hand, “I think we’re okay.”

---

hi hi! i’m loving posting these oneshots/blurbs for you guys. thank you SO much for all the love on a lession in shakesbeer. over 600 notes R U JOKING??? amazing. i love everyone and this community so so much. i hope y’all liked this one just the same!

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes imagine

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znaeb · 5 years

Text

Coming home to you. | Z.K.

The only thing that Zion wanted right now was her.

His stress level was higher than a motherfucker, his anxiety was getting up there, his whole body hurt, and he hadn’t slept well in days. The tour was literally the most amazing thing to ever happen to him, but it was also the most exhausting thing he’d ever put himself through.

He was hoping to facetime her tonight after the show, but the boys got back to the bus later than he thought and he was sure she'd be sleeping by now. He sent a quick text just to see and waited anxiously for a response. Nothing.

He sighed and tossed his phone onto his bunk before going to the kitchenette to find some food. He searched through all the cabinets and found nothing that looked even remotely appealing, so he went back, changed his clothes, and got in bed to sleep.

As he laid there he thought about a lot, his brain wouldn't shut off. He missed his own bed and his dog, and his mom... but his mind kept returning to her.

He missed how soft her skin was, how she smelled, and the way her hair was always a little tangly in the back because she wouldn't stop running her hand through it.

He was just starting to drift off when the text came through...

“baby?”

he quickly grabbed his phone and replied,

“I'm here.”

He smiled to himself, “I miss her.” He whispered out loud. his smile widened at her response,

“call me?”

The phone was pressed to his ear and ringing within seconds.

“Hi.” he heard that soft voice through the phone, she always sounded so sweet.

“I love you.” he blurted without a thought.

she giggled and whispered back, “and I love you.”

they were silent for a second, both relishing the comfort brought about just by knowing that the other was there.

“I want to come home to you,” he spoke earnestly. His emotions had built and built, and he was beginning to crack under the pressure of, well, everything. An unmeasurable amount of chaos and stress had been added to his life because of this tour, and while he was extremely grateful... he couldn't help but wonder what he would be doing right now if he wasn't here. If he wasn't in the band.

"but not yet, baby." she whispered comfortingly in his ear, "you want to be there, you're just worn a little thin is all.” she always made him feel listened to, she always knew what to say.

"I know, you're right." he rolled onto his side and let the phone rest against his face, no hands.

"When am I ever wrong?" she giggled at her own joke.

When her laughter died down, he said, "when I get home we should stay in for a week...everyone will think we died, so nobody will bother us. Perfect." he joked, but to be completely honest, it sounded like heaven to be cooped up in an apartment with her for a week.

"Hmm... As long as you bring chocolate milk." He could hear her smiling, as odd as that sounds.

"Got it." He'd give anything to have her right then. He missed her more than he knew it was possible miss a person.

"Baby, you have an early morning tomorrow, don't you?" She questioned, they always shared their weekly schedules, and she had a scary good memory.

"I was hoping you'd forget and stay on the phone for a while longer... but yeah, I do." He rubbed his face, "The interview starts at 9am, I think."

"8:45." She corrected him. This made Zion laugh hard.

"Baby, I miss you so much, I don't know what to do with myself," He felt pathetic admitting to it.

"Two weeks." She recited, she was counting down the days until they could be together... although she’d never admit how thoroughly she’d been keeping track.

"Two weeks," He repeated with a sigh.

"Alright sir, you need to go to bed." She gave him a faux scolding.

"Yes, ma'am." He rolled his eyes, and even though she couldn't see him, somehow she knew exactly what his face looked like.

"Okay." She giggled, the line was quiet before he spoke.

"But text me in the morning, alright?" He let himself be vulnerable. She made him feel all mushy inside.

"It’s a deal." She smiled to herself at his growing level of clinginess.

"Okay. Goodnight mamas." He said softly, "I love you."

"I love you too, goodnight honey."

They both rested easy, the knowledge that the other was thinking about them too brought a weird yet welcome comfort.

Two weeks had passed and before he knew it, Zion was preparing for the last show of the tour. He was sad it was over, but so excited to go home to his girl.

“dude, can you believe it? It feels like yesterday that we left for tour, and now we're almost done? Crazy.” he heard Austin muse from the back of the bus. He smiled because he felt the same way, everything happened so fast that it didn't seem real. He had to pinch himself sometimes.

“I can't wait for tonight, its gonna be lit.” Brandon chimed in as he ate his cereal. That boy, always eating cereal.

“I'm excited too, but guys I'm deadass gonna ditch all you smelly degenerates for y/n when we get home.” Zion laughed.

Edwin faked hurt even though he'd probably be doing the same thing with his girlfriend. They all needed a rest and some time apart. Being in a cramped bus with four other dudes for weeks in a row made you miss girls... they're so much cleaner, and they smell so lovely, and they know how to fold things.

“Honestly I’m glad to get away from this god forsaken bus. You’re all annoying. For real though, Zion... you snore my dude, like badly.” Nick shook his head, “like I thought you were faking it to annoy me for the longest time, man.”

they all laughed when Z flipped him off and shook his head playfully, “yeah well you talk in your sleep and it's just as annoying, so I don't want to hear it, bro.”

they joked around more during soundcheck and then parted ways to start getting ready for their last show.

2:00 a.m.

He was groggy and not in the mood to move, but he could hear someone saying his name and feel a slight shaking of his shoulder. He tried to roll over but groaned when he hit his elbow on a wall, no, armrest? He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he opened his eyes to look around.

He’d forgotten, he was flying home.

“You finally awake buddy?” he heard someone next to him, Brandon.

“Yeah, I'm awake.” he rubbed his eyes and sat up straight. “we here?”

“about to land, thought you might want to get your stuff together before we do.”

“Thanks.” he nodded as he started to gather his belongings.

He looked out the tiny plane window and could see the city lights emerging through the clouds. His excitement grew, knowing that somewhere down there, she was waiting for him.

It was a little past three o'clock when he stumbled through the door. He was as quiet as he could possibly be, he knew she'd have gone to bed ages ago since they weren’t sure when his plane would get in.

He placed his suitcase and duffel bag on the floor and made sure to lock up before climbing the stairs to their room.

It was peaceful and warm. The window let in a low purplish haze from outside, and because of it, he could just barely see the outline of her all cuddled up on the bed, waiting there just for him.

Kicking his shoes off, he slowly climbed onto the mattress and kissed her temple as he draped his arm over her, pulling her as close as he could. Her little hands held on to his shirt in her sleep, and she let out a small sigh, making him chuckle at her.

“So good to be home,” he whispered to her even though he knew she was fast asleep.

he slowly drifted off, the feeling of her breathing against him lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

He was woken up soothingly the next morning, her gentle hands running over his back and up his shoulders to his arms. He smiled to himself at her little caring touches.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, the sun from the window lighting up her eyes and making them sparkle. Her hand rested on his shoulder and she smiled at the sleepy expression on his face.

“Good morning my love, welcome home.” she kissed his cheekbone and then his jaw, and then when he couldn't wait any longer, he reached his hand up to hold her face, and his lips finally found hers.

“Thank you, baby.” he smiled against her lips. his thumb ran over her chin and he looked at her face for a moment before he had to kiss her again, his excitement to be home taking over his brain and making it impossible to think about anything except kissing her because, finally, he could.

***

This isn’t the best ever, but I’m trying to get unblocked so bear with me 😅

#zion kuwonu imagine #zion kuwonu #prettymuch imagines #prettymuch #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine

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jelixpo · 4 years

Text

Psycho (Chap. 12)

prepare to be unsatisfied :)

Felix was startled awake that morning by the unexpected ringing of his phone, causing him to immediately bolt up in bed at the sound. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, of course. He had been receiving phone calls just as much as Jack had over the past few days, but for some reason this particular call put him on edge. He wasn’t really sure why, probably something of a gut reaction he presumed.

Picking up and turning the device over in his hands, he sat shocked for a moment before blinking in surprise. He recognized this number. It was from the Brighton police station. Okay, he expected this. He had expected this. Just relax, calm your voice, sound unknowing. He knew how to put on a face for others. This wouldn’t be difficult.

“Hello, this is Felix,” He answered, sounding as if nothing in his life had gone ary in the past couple weeks. He sounded pleasant, restrained. Normal.

“Hello, this is Felix Kjellburg I presume?” A woman on the line asked.

“You’d presume correctly,”

“This is officer Richmand. When would you be available to come in for questioning?” She asked. He expected this. He had expected this. Calm. Play dumb.

“Questioning? Why would you need me to come in for questioning?” He asked. He sounded confused, genuinely so.

“We are investigating the disappearance of a friend of yours, Sean McLoughlin, and we would like you to come in for questioning. Again, when would you be available?” She explained. Felix thought about it for a moment, practically. Refusing questioning would seem suspicious, but putting it off for too long might seem suspicious as well. He couldn’t leave Jack alone for more than a day, and he definitely couldn’t bring him with. He had just gotten him ready to eat. Taking him back to Brighton would just start the whole process all over again. He didn’t want to have to drive all the way back again, but…

“The earliest I can be there is 3 in the afternoon,” He responded.

“Perfect. We’ll be ready for you then,” At that she hung up the phone.

He made sure not to act like anything was wrong, working along with the same routine he and Jack had come accustomed to. He began moving out of bed at the regular time, freshened himself up as he always did, prepared breakfast for the both of them as he had planned to start doing, and brought it to Jack. Again, he brought a pill with him. Originally unplanned, but it was needed today. He held it out again.

“Didn’t I take a pill yesterday?” Jack asked, seeming confused, “I had a full rest. I don’t really need to take another one.”

“You weren’t sleeping properly for days, Jack. One little pill helped you get some rest, sure, but you need another pill to get fully rested,” Felix explained. It wasn’t really a lie, not at all actually. Even if he didn’t originally plan to give Jack the pill more than once, his reasoning for giving it a second time was still sound. It wasn’t a lie, he would never lie.

At that, Jack took the pill without another word and the two ate together in silence. The events followed as they had yesterday. Jack fell asleep after finishing his meal, Felix laid him to rest on the mattress, and at that he gathered his things and got back into his car. He had to remove the branches and leaves off of it again, and he sighed exasperatedly at the fact that he’d have to pull up the grass again so as to cover the tire tracks he had made. Still, it needed to be done. It would get done, eventually. Getting back onto the paved road, and double checking one last time to make sure he had everything he needed, he started the long, long drive back to Brighton. Since he had chosen this location and after they had arrived here, this was the first time Felix found himself regretting the location he chose. Nevertheless, the distance from Brighton served its purpose, and therefore couldn’t be changed. It didn’t make it any easier, though.

---

As he had planned out, Felix arrived at the police station right on schedule. He blinked tiredly, his mind numb from having driven so many hours by himself. He stretched and yawned, shaking his head as he tried to alert himself. He couldn’t be tired yet. He wasn’t even halfway done.

He stepped out of the car and made his way towards the door to the police station, looking up for a moment at his surroundings as he neared the door. He froze. A van, Mark’s van, parked at the side of the parking lot. He looked in through the glass door. Was Mark here? Was Mark in the building? No one was in the waiting area. If Mark was here, he must also be in for questioning. Felix cursed under his breath and hoped that Mark would be gone before Felix left. He had planned for the possibility of the police bringing him in, he hadn’t planned for the prospect of seeing Mark. He didn’t want to see Mark, not ever again. Of course Mark would be here. He was always a problem. He was always a fucking problem. Felix’s plan was perfectly laid out from start to finish. Of course Mark had to try and fuck it up some how.

Pushing aside his feelings of annoyance, Felix put on a worried face as he entered the station. Just act the part and everything will be fine. For the next couple hours, he was to be a worried friend, who had gone out camping the day after they went out to dinner, and hadn’t learned of Jack’s disappearance until today. He had experience doing this. He had put on a face for days before, as he had done at the more recent convention, doing it for a few hours wouldn’t be difficult at all.

He was greeted in the waiting room by two police officers. They wasted no time in taking him into the back of the police station, through two doors, and into a room for questioning. Felix sat down at the table and began wringing his hands together to seem nervous and worried. Acting. It wasn’t long before an officer entered the room and sat across from him at the table.

“Hello, Felix,” The officer started, his voice showing no sign of any particular emotion at the moment, “My name is officer Dunnoh, and I’ll be conducting this interview. I’m just going to ask you some questions about the recent disappearance of Sean. I heard he was a friend of yours?” He asked.

“Yes, he’s a very good friend of mine,” Felix replied, sounding worried. He cast his eyes down to the table, as if lost in thought, “I didn’t even know he was missing,” He said quietly, yet loud enough for the officer to hear.

“You didn’t know Sean was missing?” Dunnoh asked. Felix nodded, “Have you not communicated with your friends for the last couple days?” He asked.

“No, unfortunately. I took a camping trip the night after we had dinner, up near Callander. I wasn’t even checking my phone over the last couple days,” Felix paused to curse under his breath, visibly distraught, “I hadn’t even checked my phone till this morning.”

“So you had no knowledge of Sean’s disappearance?” Dunnoh asked to confirm.

“None at all,” Felix shook his head dejectedly. Officer Dunnoh sat back for a moment, seeming to think.

“Did you drive all the way back here after you were called this morning?” Dunnoh asked. Felix nodded. At that, the officer looked him up and down.

“That’s why you look so tired,” Dunnoh muttered, “Alright, these questions are gonna be pretty short then. No need to feel worried, Mr. Kjellburg,” He commented, picking up a sheet of paper and reading over it briefly, “Can you tell me where you went to dinner before you went camping?”

“We went out to eat at Marty’s,” Felix answered.

“Who all was at the event?”

“Myself and my friends,”

“Sean was engaged to your friend Mark, as I’m sure you know. Can you tell me about their relationship?”

“Well,” Felix paused for a moment, trailing off, “It seemed like they had a good relationship,” He looked down as he spoke, seeming lost in thought.

“It seemed like it? What made you unsure?” Dunnoh asked.

“Nothing really, but… I don’t know. I knew they were getting married, but maybe they just weren’t as in love as everyone thought they were,” Felix sighed, looking back up at Dunnoh as he did so. Dunnoh simply nodded in response.

“Are you good friends with Mark?” Dunnoh asked.

“Our friendship is okay. Not good, not bad,”

“Alright, I just have one last question for you. Do you know where Sean is?” Dunnoh asked. Felix silently shook his head, looking down sorrowfully.

“I don’t,” He said.

“Do you know where he might be?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know that either,” Felix looked up at the officer through worrisome eyes, “I wish there was more I could do,” Dunnoh shook his head slightly.

“It’s alright, son. You’ve answered my questions, that’s all we need you to do. Thank you for cooperating,” He said, “That concludes our interview. Keep your spirits up, Mr. Kjellburg,” He said, and with that officer Dunnoh stood up from the table and left the room.

A few moments later, the same officers from the waiting room came back and escorted Felix back out to the waiting room. Before exiting the building, Felix glanced over at where Mark’s van had been before. It was gone now. Mark’s interview must have ended during the time Felix’s interview was taking place. Oh, thank god. With that, Felix made his way to his car, having full peace of mind that he knew he wouldn’t have to interact with Mark today, or possibly ever again.

Even at his convenience, what he would have given to be able to see Mark as he was now. Broken, lost, hurting. He almost felt tempted to drive by Mark’s house just to get the chance of catching a glimpse of him, but he knew better. Still, the thought of Mark as a broken man now entertained him greatly as he began to make his way back onto the road.

Before leaving town, he stopped quickly to grab an energy drink before he left the city limits, hoping it would keep him awake for the long, long drive back to the shop. As he drove, he couldn’t help but imagine how Mark must look and feel now. It entertained him greatly, thankfully keeping his mind active and alert as he drove.

Still, the thought could only entertain him so much. For the last hour of driving and as he finally pulled in behind the shop, he could feel exhaustion pulling at his arms, at his whole body, begging him to rest. He dragged his feet as he marched back into the shop, finally collapsing into a deep sleep once he reached his mattress. Things would return to normal in the morning.

#psycho #psycho story #chapter 12

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itisannak · 5 years

Note

Do you reckon you could write a Calum tour bus sex one? Ps love you writing! It’s amazing babes x ! ♥️

Sorry for being late. Thank you so much for your kind words and for requesting. Hope you like it xx

Summary: (Y/N) has joined Calum on tour. Despite the fact they are surrounded by their friends, the couple doesn’t really care when it comes to sex. (Smut / Unprotected Sex / Riding Him / Risky Sex)(Request) (Words: 1.7k)

“Are you guys going to stay up longer?” Ashton asks us as he gets up to head to his bunk.“I really want to finish this episode.” I reply, making Calum chuckle as he strokes my hair. “Well then, good night. See you in the morning.” Ashton waves at us as he exits the back lounge.I cuddle more onto Calum’s side, intertwining my fingers with his as I go back to watching my show. “Last man down…” Calum whispers, playing with my fingers. “What, love?” I ask, sitting up to look at him. “I said, last man down. We are the only ones awake. Us and the driver.” He explains, letting me rest my head on his collarbone. “Well, we are known as the night owls.” I say cheerfully, making Cal’s lips curl into a smile. “You know we can watch the rest in our bunk, right?” He asks, his voice sounding tired; honestly, he had a full day with an interview early in the morning and the show, and the fact that he stayed up this long for me, makes me feel bad for extending his day like this. “You know what? I can watch the rest tomorrow. Let’s go to bed.” I suggest, picking up the remote control to switch off the TV. “I didn’t mean that we should go.” He protests and I chuckle. “I know, baby. I just see how tired you are.” I reply, straddling his lap to leave a kiss on his lips. I feel him hum in the kiss, while his arms wrap around my body.“We should head off. You had a full day, and tomorrow will be no different.” I whisper as I part from his lips. “There is a reason why I wanted to stay up late, you know…” He whispers back, tilting his head to the side as his grip tightens on my hips.“Yeah? And what’s that reason?” I ask, stroking his cheek with my thumb. “Well, I know those guys a bit too well… If they fall asleep, nothing can wake them up. Including those cute little sounds you make when I am balls deep inside you.” He whispers, leaning closer to me and starting kissing my neck.“Calum Thomas Hood. Keep it in your pants.” I scold him, trying not to succumb to him. “Why keep it in my pants when I can keep it inside you?” He asks, bringing his hand from my hip to the hem of my t-shirt. “You are such a hormone-filled 15-year-old boy right now.” I roll my eyes at him but feel my skin erupt in goosebumps as his hand peeks under my t-shirt. “Tell me you don’t need me just as badly as I need you and I promise we will go to bed and we’ll just sleep.” He says, taking his hands off of me.“Did I say something like that?” I ask him and he side smirks at me. “Then what do you say we go to our bunk and make each other feel good?” He suggests, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. I feel myself turn into a puddle, my toes curling already at the sight of his luscious lips. I just nod my head, standing up from his lap and holding one hand out for him to get up as well.

We tiptoe to our bunk, trying to make as little noise as possible. Calum lets me slip in the bunk first, pressing his body on mine as I try to climb in. “Your ass looks ridiculously hot in those shorts.” He says in a low voice, barely above a whisper, as he leaves a kiss on the base of my neck. I sit on the bed watching him as he removes his t-shirt and climbs in the bunk as well. I watch his body tense, muscles bulging on it, even on the low lighting of the bunk I can tell he looks heavenly. “Can I be on top tonight?” I ask, my voice shaking a little. I don’t know why, but I feel intimidated, the whole “fucking in a bunk and risking to get caught by our friends” gives me a newly found tingle in my belly. Calum smirks at me, laying on his back while one of his hands rests on my hips. I crawl until I am straddling his lap, supporting my body by placing my hands flat on his chest. I feel the firm muscles bulge against my palms, making chills run down my body. I find everything on him attractive, every inch, every nook and crook, every little detail. I am in complete love with his mind, but his body is making my body go crazy. “Are you going to stare for much longer, princess?” Calum whispers, but his teasing tone makes my body covered in goosebumps. “I thought you wanted to ride me. What are you waiting for?” He continues, playing with the strings of my shorts. “Do you need assistance, babygirl? Or maybe I can just pin you on the mattress and get back the control.” His smirk is more devilish than ever. I buck my hips up, pushing my shorts and panties to the side after I take his cock out of his briefs. I sink my hips down on his cock, biting my lip to keep myself from making a sound. “Oh fuck…” Calum groans, closing his eyes shut. “Will I need to shut your mouth, babyboy? You are too loud, you are going to get us caught.” I tease him, wiggling my hips as I take his dick down to its base. “Uh, you think you have the upper hand now, love? Wait till we stay in a hotel with a bed I can properly tie you upon.” He tries to threaten me, but hissing turns to whines, much to my amusement. I take as much of him as I can, being on top gives me the privilege of guiding him right to the spot I need him to hit. My hands go to the ceiling of the bunk, keeping me from collapsing on top of him. My ass bounces on him, making my back arch as everything becomes a lot for me.“Raise that t-shirt, pretty girl… Give me a little show.” Calum moans; I fucking love it when he moans, he makes me feel that I am doing everything right.

I grab the hem of my t-shirt and pull it off my body. His hands travel to my boobs, fondling as he licks his lips. “You are driving me fucking insane.” He groans, throwing his head back. “Cal…” “What is it, princess?” He asks, resting his hands under my ribs. “You feel so good inside me.” I whisper as I lean down to kiss his plump lips. He responds to my kiss immediately, pushing his tongue past my parted lips. I taste him, while I also move my hips along his length. He moans in my mouth, bucking his hips upward to meet mine. It is hard to keep myself quiet since all I want to do is scream how much I love this. “Calum… I am about to… I am so close.” I groan, gripping onto his body with everything I have. My nails dig into his skin, causing him to hiss as he moves his hands to guide my hips.“That fast?” Calum teases me, but his veins popping along his length tells me that he is holding back for me. “Please, you were about to cum the moment you got inside me.” I reply, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I can’t help but bring my lips to his neck, sucking lightly on it. “Babygirl…” Calum moans in a raspy, uberly sexy voice. I continue moving my body against his, the sensation rising in me as we become in sync. I feel my stomach tighten as my walls convulse around him. I bite onto the side of his neck, keeping myself from screaming. But my body gets jittery, shaking as I cum. I feel myself getting into a euphoric state, for a moment nothing matters but being here. “God… You feel so good cumming around me.” Calum groans.

I am completely breathless, gasping as Calum continues to thrust inside me. I can’t move, I barely hold myself quiet, but I feel a little bad leaving Calum to chase his own orgasm. I rake my nails down his arms, leaving marks behind me and knowing well that the slight sting of pain will add up to his high. Calum chokes his screams as he cums inside me. His body tenses underneath me, and I cock my head up to see his face; plump, rosy cheeks and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, he looks like a painting.

I let him catch his breath, watching his smile spread on his relaxed face as he finally comes down. “You look so beautiful.” I comment as I rest my head on his chest. “I am supposed to say that.” He chuckles, strumming his fingers on my hair.“Yeah, but you really look beautiful. You are glowing.” I stroke his cheek. “You caused that. I adore you.” He whispers, in a calm and cheerful tone. “I love you.” I whisper back, leaving a peck on his chest.“Yeah?” He chuckles and I hum. “Yeah.” I reply and yawn. “Do you think they heard us?” I ask, peeking up to watch Calum’s reaction. “We will have to find out in the morning.” He replies, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “I have to go get cleaned.” I say as I unstraddle him, fixing my panties and shorts as I try to silently move out of the bunk. “Be quick. I need my cuddles.” He whispers. “Oh my God, the tough guy needs his girlfriend to fall asleep.” I comment, snickering. “Shut up, you are warm.” He chuckles, rubbing his eyes.

My Masterlist

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Note

Emma + Killian + Making up for lost time

Okay, so I know I said I’d get the next chapter of Second In Command up today, but that’s not going to happen! It’ll be very soon, though! So in the time being, I hope that you enjoy this prompt I’ve been hoarding away! Nonnie, I’m not sure what you were looking for with this, so I hope you like it!

His hand trails through the tips of her hair, untangling the knots that have collected from their day at the beach, the heavy winds and salty ocean air causing it to curl in unnatural ways until it ended up in a tangled, tousled mess. His touch is soothing even when he snags on a stubborn knot that pulls at her scalp, but he somehow always manages to work it out, helping her sort out her mess while she lays on top of him and feels his heartbeat with every rise and fall of his chest. It’s comforting in a way that no one’s touch has been, and she feels tears stinging in her eyes as she thinks about it.

She doesn’t want to cry, not over something as ridiculous as having someone play with her hair, but besides the few times Mary Margaret has curled it for her for job interviews and the occasional big date, no one has ever played with her hair, no one other than Killian. But Killian is playing with her hair right now after spending the entire day with her relaxing out by the ocean, and she can’t fight back this unwanted sob that she’s choking on.

“Emma?” Killian questions, the timber of his voice even deeper as he whispers. His hand stops its ministrations in her hair, and she feels him tilting her chin up before she can burrow her head in his neck. “Love, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“No one has ever played with my hair before.”

She sees him subtly shake his head as his lips purse and his eyes squint, closing for a moment so that his long, dark lashes fall against his cheeks. “What now?”

“Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“I promise you, Swan, that’s not true.”

She sighs, managing to take a deep breath even with the way her body is pressed into his, before looking up at him with glassy eyes, a tear falling down her cheek. “I’m…no one has ever played with my hair before, not before you. It’s something that moms do, that parents do, and I don’t have those. So I guess it’s just on my long list of things that should have happened when I was a kid but didn’t.”

Killian hums as he dips his head and slides his lips over hers. She can taste the saltiness of her tears trickling down to their lips, and she tries not to feel like some kind of unwanted foster kid when she’s twenty seven years old.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Hold on,” Killian encourages, gently pushing her off of him and letting her fall against the bed while he runs into his living room, coming back two minutes later with a notebook and a pen. “Scooch over, love. He sits down on the mattress while she rolls over, getting up and crawling into his side to see what the hell it is that he’s doing. “We’re going to make a list, and you don’t have to finish it tonight or even do it at all if you don’t want to. But I want you to write down all of the things you wanted to experience as a kid and didn’t.”

“Killian, that’s ridiculous.”

“Aye, but I kind of like it.” He taps the pen against her nose, and she chuckles under her breath before kissing his cheek. “Now, let’s start with have someone play with your hair.” He writes it down in his neat, oddly beautiful handwriting, and then puts a check mark next to it. “See, you already have one done. Now come on, Swan. Let’s make a list.”

-/-

Over the next few weeks, she writes down whatever pops in her head, scribbling it down on a napkin or on her phone when she’s away from Killian’s and then adding it to the notebook that sits on Killian’s kitchen counter. He offered to let her take it home with her, but she said no. Besides, she spends most of her nights at his house anyways. It’s on the beach with an open floor plan and soft, comfortable furniture and the constant background music of the waves crashing against solid ground. And, of course, Killian. He’s also there.

Climb across monkey bars.

Draw on the sidewalk with chalk.

Eat pure candy for dinner.

Ride a bike.

Have someone braid her hair.

Have someone braid her hair. (It’s different than someone playing with it, Killian.)

Run through a sprinkler.

Make homemade cupcakes.

Go camping.

“This is ridiculous,” she sighs after adding in the last one. Killian’s cooking dinner, grilled chicken sizzling on the stove, and she can practically see him rolling his eyes even if she’s looking at his back and the way his t-shirt clings to his muscles.

“I can promise you the only ridiculous thing on that list is eating candy for dinner.”

“Hey, that’s a good one. But seriously. All of this stuff makes me sound like I’m five.”

“That’s the point. You’re going to experience all of the things you didn’t as a young lady.”

“A young lady?”

“That is what my mum used to call everyone under the age of thirty. Come on, Swan. Don’t overthink it. Don’t freak yourself out of it. We’ll even do the candy one first. I’m thinking gummy candies all the way.”

“You hate gummy candies.”

“Exactly. That way you’ll have them to yourself, and my dentist won’t get more of my money.”

So the next night she walks into Killian’s house to several different gummy candies sitting on his counter along with a few bars of chocolate. Sucker, she thinks to herself. He went to the store and bought himself candy that he actually likes. So much for healthy eating all of the time. She grabs the bag of sour patch kids and wanders throughout the house looking for Killian. She finally finds him in the hammock on his back porch, the one that’s so close to the ocean you can practically taste the salt, and without hesitation, she climbs in there with him, settling between his legs while his arms wrap around her waist and his fingers trail up under her blouse to mess with the skin of her stomach.

“I have provided you with nourishment, my fair lady.”

“Thank you, my good sir,” she giggles, popping a gummy in her mouth and chewing before tiling her head back and briefly kissing him. “Did you have a good day at work?”

“Ah, yes, I love when nineteen-year-olds act like assholes because they failed their exam.”

“Dr. Jones,” she sighs, making her voice as seductive as possible, “didn’t you give them an opportunity to make it up to you?”

Killian snorts behind her, the laughter of his chest moving her with him while he pinches the skin of her stomach. “I do not live in a bad porn movie, so no, I did not allow them to sleep with me to make things up.”

“I mean, you have a girlfriend, so I feel like there’s a lot of reasons why that wouldn’t work.”“Aye,” Killian growls, kissing up and down her neck while she continues to eat her candy, “a beautiful girlfriend who I very much love would keep me from doing that on top of all of the other moral wrongs there.”“Smooth save, bud.”“Only for you.”

“Well, what can I say. I’m as sweet as candy. How could you ever deny me?”

Eat pure candy for dinner.

-/-

“Bloody hell,” Killian mutters while she watches him bite his lip in the bathroom mirror. Her laptop is playing an instructional video for fishtail braids, something she’s never quite been able to master herself, and she tries to hold in her laughter at his frustration. “Couldn’t we have done a regular braid for this? Or even a French braid? This is bloody difficult.”

“This is the only braid I can’t do myself, so I figured it’d be perfect for this.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t watch that video one more time. The woman’s voice is far too high pitched.”

“Well, find another one. There’s a lot.”

“Then I’ll lose my spot, and I’ll have to start over again. This is fucking ridiculous.”An hour later Killian has braided her hair in a simple braid, the fishtail attempt long gone after she thought Killian was going to smash her laptop and cut off all of her hair if his braid fell apart one more time. God, she loves him and knows he can get frustrated, but she never thought her hair would be the thing to bring him down.

Have someone braid her hair. (It’s different than someone playing with it, Killian.)

-/-

“It’s November. I’m not running through a sprinkler. Can’t we save this for, you know, the summer?”

“Nope. We bought this damn sprinkler today, and we’re doing it today.”

“Killian, babe, we’re currently bundled up in three layers of clothes. I don’t think stripping down and getting wet is our best idea.”He waggles his eyebrows, and she braces herself before he dips his head and whispers the words in her ear. “Stripping you down and getting you wet is always our best idea.”“You’re dirty.”“Then I suggest we run through the water to get me as clean as you desire.”

Killian sets up the sprinkler, hooking it up to the hose in his front yard, before stripping out of his clothes and only remaining in his boxers. As much as she loves the sight, she really hopes none of his neighbors are home looking out the window. Mrs. Lucas would probably love it. Sighing, she does the same, letting her coat and jeans fall to the floor while she jumps up and down to keep herself warm.

It does not work.

Before she knows it, the nozzle is turned, water shooting up into the air, and Killian is taking her hand in his, their fingers intertwined. “Are you ready?”

“No.”“Well, we’re going anyways.”

His grip tightens before they’re both sprinting forward, the momentum carrying her forward until she’s covered in ice cold water and landing on the other side of the sprinkler.

“Cold, cold, cold, cold,” she chants, hopping up and down on her toes to try to warm herself up to no avail. “That was freezing.”

“Aye,” he agrees, shaking his wet hair out before looking down at her with his lips ticking up on one side.

“No. Killian, I swear to God, don’t even think about it.”

“I’m already thinking about it.” Before she can run away, he’s scooping her up, nearly dropping her when she doesn’t get a good grip on his shoulders, and running them both through the water while she squeals. Actually squeals. She didn’t even know her body could make that noise, but it apparently can.

“You.” Slap. “Are.” Slap. “An.” Slap. “Asshole.”

“Oi, I’m already freezing with you. There’s no need to abuse a man.”

“There was literally every need.”

Killian walks them over to the house, turning off the water, and bending down to pick up their clothes, nearly dropping her (again) before they make it inside to blessed, blessed heat and the warmth of a hot shower.

It’s so much better than running through a sprinkler, but she can’t help her smile thinking of she and Killian, two grown adults, running through a sprinkler in the yard in nothing but their underwear. It’s by far the most ridiculous thing they’ve done on the list of hers that she started back in September, but she kind of loves it.

Run through a sprinkler.

-/-

“Mary Margaret said Leo needs Christmas themed cupcakes. What does that mean?”

“Red and green icing? Peppermint flavor? Anything and everything festive?”

“Yeah, but why is a five-year-old so specific about his cupcakes for his birthday?”

“Because it’s his birthday, my love, and he was born two days before Christmas. He probably just likes the season. I know I would if someone came down my chimney and left me with presents.”

“I can come down your chimney if you want.”

“Look at that, Swan. I knew dating me for so long would suck you into the making everything dirty.”

“Yeah, well, I can do that too.” She winks at him before pressing up on her toes and quickly kissing him. “Add have Santa come to my list. That’s something I never experienced. You’re Santa in this case, by the way.”“Aye, I got that. I should warn you, though, if your goal is for Santa to come, you really are going to have to slide down the chimney.”

“It’s a good thing we have each other because anyone else would break up with us by now.”

She’s never been one for baking, especially from scratch, but she and Killian go through his cabinets to see everything he has in order to make a list of everything they need. He really only has sugar, eggs, and milk, so they quickly drive down to the supermarket and load their cart up with every baking utensil that the small market in the town has. They have a surprising amount of Christmas-themed goods, so while Killian is getting the practical things, she grabs onto sprinkles (which she still says don’t actually taste good and just look nice) and Christmas themed cupcake…filters? Cups? Holders? She’s not really sure what they’re called.

After they’ve filled their basket up with everything including a birthday card for Leo, they check out and make their way back to Killian’s, immediately baking the cupcakes so they’ll have them ready for Leo’s party tomorrow afternoon. It’s a bit of a disaster at first, but once they get the mixture right (Killian apparently does not believe in measurements and instructions), it’s smooth sailing. Or Smooth baking, really.

“This icing is fantastic,” she moans, taking her finger and swiping another section from the bowl before Killian can swat her hand away (again). “Can we keep some in the fridge, like, at all times?”

She expects Killian to immediately shoot down her idea, but when she looks up at him in anticipation, he’s intently staring at her, his blue eyes slanted and his arms crossed. Is he really mad that she’s eating some of the icing?

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Move in with me.”

If she were holding anything, she’d drop it.

“What?”

“Move in with me, Swan,” Killian repeats, taking a step forward and interlacing their fingers, resting their hands on his chest. “Come on. When was the last time you even went home? Your stuff is here, your food…I’m here.”

“You are here,” she acquiesces, really coming around to the idea of living here…with him. He’s right. She doesn’t ever go back to her apartment, it would save money, she loves him. That last one seems pretty important.

Killian softly smiles down at her while squeezing her hands. “What do you say? You want to officially invade all of my stuff?”

“Are you going to make me clean as often as you do?”

“Obviously not.”

“And can I bring my pillow from my apartment?”

“Of course.”

“And we’ll keep icing in the fridge?”

He clicks his tongue. “Eh, that one is debatable.”

“Hmmm,” she hums, trying to keep the smile off of her face while she unlocks their fingers so she can wrap her arms around his neck, “I think you make an excellent salesman, Killian Jones. And an even better roommate.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And we can mark off having a sleepover on the list.”

“Was that on the list?”

“Nope.” She presses up on her toes to slide her lips over his, the both of them smiling into the kiss. This is so much better than she ever expected today to go, and she knows that this is the right choice. Killian is the right choice. “But you said we could add as we go. Now, come on, babe, let’s finish these cupcakes, and then we can get to the rest of our sleepover activities.”

Have “Santa” come.

Make homemade cupcakes.

Sleepover (Permanent)

-/-

She’s walking home from the station on a surprisingly warm afternoon in February. It was snowing last week, but as she walks the road home, there’s not a single bit of evidence of that, all of the snow having melted and run into the ocean a few days ago. Now she can walk outside with just a sweater and her boots without freezing. But it’s still cool enough that she wouldn’t want to spend extended periods of time outside, which is why she’s entirely confused when she gets to their driveway and sees Killian sitting outside with a…bike.

Shit.

He’s going to try to teach her how to ride a bike today, isn’t he?

The closer she gets, the more she can see the bright smile on his face, and the moment he sees her, he gets up from his spot on the front steps and jogs toward her, kissing her in greeting and handing her a helmet. Oh God, they’re really doing this.

“You ready to learn how to ride, Swan?”

“Well, I’d think I was already pretty adept at that considering last night.”

“Bloody minx,” Killian laughs, dipping his head and kissing her cheek. “But seriously. I actually ordered this for you after Christmas, sales and all that, but it just got here today. I figured we could start practicing today.”

“In…broad daylight? Where the neighbors can see me bust my ass?”

“Aye. Unless you want to do it in the mornings.”

She pats his shoulder and walks past him toward the front door. “Let’s try for the morning.”

Killian wakes her up at six the next morning. His gentle attempt of soothing her awake doesn’t exactly put her in the best mood. His nudging and lips against her skin might as well have been a blaring air horn and a sledge hammer. But she gets up anyways and bundles up as they step outside, putting on the idiotic helmet and waiting for Killian’s instruction.

It seems like it should be simple enough. People do it all of the time. Hell, children do it, but the moment she sits down on the seat, her feet still planted on the ground, she can already feel how uncomfortable this is. And she’s really beginning to question how something so thin on two wheels can hold an entire human being up.

Killian tells her they’re just going to work on her balance this morning, getting her used to the bike, and he promises that he won’t let go. So that’s exactly what they do. She gets accustomed to sitting on the seat and moving the slightest bit, all while Killian holds onto the back of the bike so she doesn’t fall.

And so it goes several mornings in a row, the two of them getting up before the sun to practice. She does get better, even if she feels ridiculous, but she keeps toppling over and scraping her hands, elbows, knees. The last straw comes when she rips open her favorite leggings after a particularly nasty fall and Killian tells her just to get back on the bike.

“No, I’m not getting back on the fucking bike. I’ve fallen too many times. My ass hurts, and I’m not doing it. Screw this.”

She gets up from the ground, careful not to get more pieces of gravel in her hands, before storming off in the house, ripping off her ruined leggings and stepping into the bathroom to clean out her wounds. She can feel her cheeks heat and the tears stinging in her eyes all while the water in the tub runs over her bloody, scraped knee. Her body is disgusting right now, scrapes and bruises all where she doesn’t want them to be. This has been a horrible plan, and they shouldn’t have done it.

Why the hell does she even need to ride a bike? That’s not a thing that even comes up in her everyday life. They never should have done this. Killian should have left well enough alone.

Huffing, she turns the water off and climbs off of the edge of the tub, making her way over to the closet and changing into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before she props herself up on the counter and puts Neosporin over her new scrapes and tapes gauze over them. She’s finishing her knee when Killian comes to stand in the doorway of the bathroom, his hip resting against the doorframe and his ankles crossed just as his arms are.

“So should we add having a meltdown to your list?”

“Fuck off, Killian.”

“Okay, okay,” Killian soothes, taking a few steps forward and placing his hand over her bloody, bandaged knee, “that was a poor time for a joke. I’m sorry, Emma. I’d never do anything to hurt you or piss you off. Not on purpose or without good intentions. I just have to feel like all of this isn’t really about the bike.”

She really hates him for being able to read her so well. An open book, he’d said once. She hated it when he said it then. No one who barely knew her had any right to tell her they understood her from a few conversations, but now, now he knows her better than anyone and has every right to call her an open book, even if she’s pissed as hell right now.

“It’s not.”

“Then what is it, sweetheart?”

“I feel…stupid. You and I wake up at the crack of dawn to practice riding a bike. We literally go out there with flashlights so none of our neighbors can see me. I’m a grown woman. I should know how to do this. I should know how to do a lot of things and have experienced a lot of things and I just…I haven’t. And I feel inadequate and naïve and all of these awful things.”

“Listen to me, Emma Swan, no part of you is inadequate. You never have been, and you never will be. I love you more than anything on this planet or in the stars above, and you have to know how bloody brilliant you are. Yes, you had to miss a lot of your childhood and yes, you had to grow up too fast. We both did. But there’s nothing stopping you or me from making up for lost time.” He wipes away the tears that are falling from her eyes before softly kissing her cheeks. “You may hate the phrase, but even if you can’t actually ride a bike, all your life you’ve been getting back up on the bike when life knocks you down. But don’t let it, Emma. You’re better than that, stronger.”

Oh damn. She wasn’t expecting that. That’s…everything, and it’s so not fair that he can be so nice when she really is having a meltdown. He should be having a meltdown too. He’s being nice to her, and she’s just being an asshole.

She wipes away at her cheeks, sniffling a bit before smiling at him.

“Are you sure you weren’t supposed to be a literature professor or something? Because no one talks like that.”

“I do. At least to you, my love. You deserve it. Now come on, let’s try again.”

Yeah, she’s going to have to figure out a way to be extra kind to him somehow. Maybe she’ll scrub down the kitchen later when he’s at work. He might like that. Or he might get frustrated with how she cleans. It’s at least worth a shot.

“Can we try again tomorrow?”

“Aye.”

So she tries again. And again. And again.

And even if she sucks at it and it doesn’t go smoothly, eventually she’s rolling down the street without crashing onto the pavement or into the bushes. It feels like some kind of weird, success story, but this is her life and she’s along for the ride.

Ride a bike.

-/-

“Can you draw a football, Emma? Killian does it wrong.”

“Of course, buddy,” she promises Leo, ignoring Killian’s eyeroll and his muttering of bloody American football, before picking up the brown chalk and drawing out a bloody American football on the Nolan’s driveway. “I think Killian’s soccer ball is nice, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but why does he call it a football?”

“Well, from where Killian is from, that’s what they call soccer. It makes sense, you know? You do play soccer with your feet.”

“Huh,” Leo gasps, continuing to draw nonsense on the chalk while Killian works on his own drawings. “That’s weird.”

“Yeah, well, your Uncle Killian is weird.”

“If he’s my uncle and you’re my aunt, does that mean you guys are going to get married?”

Killian starts coughing, probably choking on his own spit, and she feels her cheeks heat and her heart start beating wildly within her chest. They’ve talked about it, but it’s never been more than a small conversation. Never too much detail. Just that it’s a possibility they both want one day.

“I don’t know, kid. Maybe one day.”

“Well, if you do, I think you should serve chicken nuggets at the wedding. Aunt Belle had gross food.”

She snorts, not knowing what else to do before reaching over and ruffling Leo’s blonde hair. “Okay, kid. We’ll keep that in mind.”

Draw on the sidewalk with chalk.

-/-

“I’m pretty sure we look like creeps right now, babe.”

“Swan, it’s fine,” Killian insists, pushing her forward toward the jungle gym. “All you have to do is climb across them quickly, and we’ll be gone before someone calls the cops on us.”

“I am the cops.”

“Well, then we won’t have any issue. Now come on, let’s do it.”

She whines a bit before walking over to the playground, waiting for the kids who are playing on the monkey bars to get finished before she quickly hops up on the ladder and moves across the bars, easily holding her weight up and thanking all of the time she spends in the gym for being able to do this. There’s a reason only kids do this. They can hold up their weight much more easily than adults can.

It takes less than a minute for her to finish, and when she hops to the ground, she sees Killian holding his phone up laughing as he very obviously takes a video of her.

“Do not put that online.”

“Yeah, no, that’s definitely going on Instagram, especially with how I captured the judgmental looks of all of the moms around here.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You love me.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

Climb across monkey bars.

-/-

“So can you really navigate by the stars?”

“Aye,” Killian confirms, tugging her a bit closer before taking her hand and pointing up to the sky, “Liam taught me when I was a lad.”

“How did that even come about?”

Killian sighs, dropping their hands and turning his body so that he’s facing her. He’s set up a makeshift tent in their backyard, which is really just the beach. There are enough blankets underneath them that the sand doesn’t get on them too much. It’s May now, and while that’s not a necessarily the warmest time in Maine, there is a pleasant breeze blowing up to them as the waves crash in the background, creating the most soothing backdrop that’s usually muted by the walls of their home.

Killian’s eyes look especially blue in the glow of the moonlight and of the lantern he has set up in the corner, and she reaches her hand out to rub her fingers across his jaw, feeling the rough stubble that she loves so much. His hand finds hers, and it’s as warm and as welcoming as always as he keeps her hand against his cheek.

“Well, you know we didn’t have much money and that our mum worked all the damn time. I’m not even sure when she managed to sleep or how she managed to be home to help with my homework. Um, but anyways, Liam took to entertaining me, and one of those things was watching the night sky from our roof.”

“How did Liam learn so much? Enough to teach you?”

“He didn’t. The wanker had no bloody clue what he was doing, but after I showed an interest in it, he started checking out books from the local library. And thus began our obsession.”

“He loved you a lot. Your mom did too.”

“Aye, I know.” His eyes get teary for a moment and they fall away from her gaze. It takes her fingers running across his cheek for him to look back at her. “I wish they could have met you.”

“I wish I could have met them too, but I feel like I know them through you.”

She moves her head forward, just the slightest of movements, so that she can brush her lips over his. His lips are as warm and as soft as always, and she can taste the beer he had earlier.

“I love you, Killian. You are everything to me, you know that?”

“I had an idea or two,” he laughs, squeezing her hand. “I love you too. I’m so glad you agreed to be with me.”

“Well, after I got over you being a pompous ass, there was never really any other option.”

He shakes his head back and forth before releasing her hand and crawling over her, caging her in with his body and his warmth while his lips run over her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids, her mouth. He’s everywhere all at once, and she both laughs and sighs into all of the kisses. She feels desire building within her and even though the least romantic thing she can think of his having sex on the beach (think of all of the sand everywhere), that’s exactly what the two of them do. It’s slow and soft, almost exactly like it was the first time they were together, and she almost cries thinking of how her life has gone from nothing to absolutely everything.

She made a life for herself. She allowed people in. She allowed herself to dream that her life can be more than the girl who no one ever wanted and who no one ever loved, and she allowed it to become a reality long before Killian.

But then she met him after he parked his car in a no parking zone, and he became the first person she could ever trust with everything. Even more than David and Mary Margaret, which she thought would never be possible. But there he was prepared to and willing to love her with her walls, and here he is still loving her after knowing the deepest parts of her soul.

This list may have started as something small and stupid, but she’s realizing that it’s not about the list. It’s about experiencing life and doing things that make her happy, things she thought she’d never get to do.

They fall asleep outside that night and wake up as the sun rises over the ocean, the sky painted in oranges and pinks, and she wonders how she ever could have hated mornings and the thought of having someone by her side.

Go camping

-/-

Spring fades into summer, the temperature increasing daily and her job getting increasingly busier while tourists roll into town. Killian isn’t teaching a class this summer, so he stops by with lunch almost daily, eating with her before kissing her forehead and heading off to read a book or fix up the improvements they’re making to the house. It’s always had older features that she knows Killian has wanted to update and now that he has the time to work on it and the money to pay for the supplies, he’s really taken it to heart. Her home is basically a construction zone at all hours of the day, but she does have a really hot contractor.

She gets home around five one evening in June, the flowers in the front yard in full bloom, and she can see where Killian finished painting the house a light yellow, something that had taken some convincing for her to accept (who knew paint colors could be such a dividing point in a relationship). But he’s not outside, so as she walks up their new stone path, making sure not to trek on Killian’s vibrant green grass, she wonders where exactly her boyfriend is.

She finds him in the kitchen, carefully painting the cabinets a light gray with his laptop playing a video on how to paint kitchen cabinets that he’s been watching over the past few days. There’s music playing in the background, something slow and instrumental, and as she walks toward him, she notices the slight sway in his hips.

“Hi, babe,” she greets, kissing his cheek in greeting while squeezing his hip. “You’ve gotten a lot done today.”

“I had a pretty big pep in my step.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Check the list on the counter.”

“Weird way to answer that question but okay.”

She steps over to the counter and finds the notebook, her list of childhood wants written down in a combination of she and Killian’s handwriting with all of the items scratched out. She thought they’d finished this, moved on from it. Maybe he meant another list.

Climb across monkey bars.

Draw on the sidewalk with chalk.

Eat pure candy for dinner.

Ride a bike.

Have someone braid her hair.

Have someone braid her hair. (It’s different than someone playing with it, Killian.)

Run through a sprinkler.

Have “Santa” come.

Make homemade cupcakes.

Sleepover (Permanent)

Go camping.

Get Married

“Killian?” she questions, her heart absolutely racing within her chest while her breath leaves her body and emotion gets stuck in her throat. “Killian, what is this?”

He puts his paintbrush down and takes a step toward her, looking over at the notebook as if that isn’t his handwriting that wrote the last two words that have already completely shaken her world. “Well, it looks as if you had some very mature dreams as a child.”

“I didn’t write that.”

“I know,” he laughs, taking her hands and interlacing their fingers before pulling her away from the counter and squatting down on one knee. Oh God, this is happening. This is actually happening. “Emma Swan, my love,” Killian begins, smiling up at her with the most vibrant smile and gray paint on his nose, “I have loved you for two years now and known you for three, but in the past year, I feel as if I’ve gotten to experience an entire lifetime of adventure with you. I’d like to keep doing that indefinitely. So what do you say, love, will you marry me?”

She falls to her knees as well, landing them on equal ground, and nods her head up and down, the smile on her face so large that it almost hurts. “Yes, of course. Of course I’ll marry you even if you proposed in the cheesiest way possible.”

Killian barks out a laugh before slamming his lips into hers and threading his hands into her hair, consuming her as if she won’t be there when he lets go. But she doesn’t care. She loves it. She loves him.

“Well, I could have spread out rose petals in the shape of a heart, but I like to think I’m more of a romantic than those people in Valentine’s Day advertisements.”

“You know that’s how David proposed to Mary Margaret, right?”

“I didn’t, but I’m definitely going to mess with him about it now.” She laughs while Killian releases her hand to dig into his shirt pocket, revealing a small black box with a sapphire ring inside. She doesn’t know how, but she completely forgot about the ring. It’s gorgeous, and she almost doesn’t believe it’s real as Killian slides it onto her finger. “This is my mum’s ring. I know I could have bought you a diamond but –”

“No, no, it’s perfect.”

-/-

Five months later, they cross off the final item on the list.

Get married.

It doesn’t mean they can’t make a new list, though.

#cs fic #cs ff #cs prompts

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