#i will not mention the way she was sexualized so much during the run

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact. mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited feelings, sexual tension, reader teasing Steve sexually, not giving away anything else

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: After you and Steve cross a line, you are the one to take things to a whole new level — driving Steve insane with your never ending teasing.

Word count: 7.4k+

Author’s note: I know you keep yelling at me but anyways -- shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, especially the uh last part hehe.

Also, @prettyboyeddiemunson talked about a little crossover thing, and I love her girl in gods & monsters so she's making a little appearance here for Eddie hehe, all credits go to my bestie of course, the character belongs to her! If you haven't read the story yet, go check it out, it's one of my faves!

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Staring up at the ceiling, Steve sinks deeper into his pillows, finding more comfort in his bed than usual, he takes a deep breath as he runs his hand over his face. He should feel content, knowing that he’s got the day off but instead he feels tense and frustrated in a way he had never felt before. 

His mind could be anywhere right now, he could think about the new tapes he stacked up at work last night, he could think about the show he watched before he went to bed, he could think about the mixtape Eddie had made for him, he could think about the girl that so obviously tried to flirt with him at work the other day, his mind could take him to any place, his imagination could be limitless but no, his mind is somewhere it shouldn’t be, his mind is with you. 

Nothing he does, nothing he tries to think about can drag his thoughts away from you. You occupy every space of his mind, reminding him of how much control you had taken over him ever since you both crossed a line that changed things between you both. 

Steve may have been the one who started it at all, but you are the one who took the game to a whole new level. 

The little accident in his kitchen that happened weeks ago, was only the start of it all. 

Steve wasn’t exactly subtle when he kept checking you out before the fiasco with the broken lever, and he wasn’t subtle with his touches either. He was treading on thin ice, he knew that, he knew that his slight teasing could have easily backfired if you reacted differently but it didn’t, and your reactions were everything that he was hoping for. You grew flustered, you started blushing, you stuttered and you looked at him the way he was hoping you would. 

But, what he didn’t expect was for you to tease him back, especially in a way that had him blushing, stuttering, and staring at you in shock. 

You were so innocent and shy at first, doing everything as subtly as possible. It started with gentle touches on his arm or his hand, soft whispers during dinner whenever he sat beside you, or long eye contact. Then, you realized just how much power you had over him and things quickly developed into something more, something so much deeper.

Your teasing was no longer innocent and your shyness seemed to have slipped away more and more, little by little. 

The look in your eyes was no longer a shy one whenever you looked at each other. There was a fire behind your eyes that he had never seen before. The smirk that tugged at your lips wasn’t the same one you usually looked at him with, it was different, mischievous, and very suggestive – a little too suggestive for someone like you because if someone else had looked at him the way you do, he’d think that they’re flirting but you don’t do that and certainly not with him. 

The only explanation for your behavior is that you are teasing him, playing with him just the way he did with you but not because you want him. He started something that night when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement. It was harmless at first, his teasing was light and playful, he loved to see those sweet reactions of yours but Steve didn’t know that it was a dangerous game that he had started, he didn’t know that he’d be playing with fire the moment he’d touch you. 

Because you are far from harmless, and your teasing is not light and playful in the slightest. If it was, he wouldn’t be feeling like this right now; frustrated, agitated and filled with pent up emotions that he can’t even make out in his own head. 

He closes his eyes again as a groan falls from his lips, he shakes his head at himself, cursing inwardly for thinking about no one other than you. 

Has it always been that way? 

Have you always been on his mind? 

Or is it something new?

An unspoken deal was made between the both of you when you two started this. There are no rules, just a winner and a loser – whoever breaks first loses and so far, it seems like Steve won’t even get close to winning, even though he was the one to start it all so confidently. 

You clearly have taken over, because the moment you looked at him with innocent big eyes and a pout on your lips while pressing your chest against his arm when you tried to squeeze past him, your boobs nearly spilling over your cute little top, your voice sounding raspy from all the weed you had smoked that night, he was done for. 

It wasn’t the first time that a girl had done something like this to him, plenty of girls have given him those innocent eyes, have pressed their boobs against him, in much less clothing… but something about you drives him especially crazy. Maybe it’s the fact that you both hate or dislike each other or maybe it’s the fact that he is just extremely frustrated – sexually frustrated. Maybe that is the only reason why you get to him in that way… why he feels the want to continue this little game or why he feels the intense need to fuck you and get you out of his mind, once and for all. 

Another groan falls from his lips when he remembers that Robin bailed on him after she called him in the middle of the night, telling him that she wouldn’t make it to lunch today, meaning that it will be just Eddie, you and him. 

A part of him even looks forward to seeing you, the other part doesn’t because he already knows how he will feel afterwards, while you will probably go home feeling satisfied after teasing the hell out of him. 

Every time before you leave, you look at him as though you had done nothing wrong, which sometimes leads him to believe that you’re not even aware of all the teasing you torture him with and that he was the only one playing this game, all this time. 

Steve drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower so the water can heat up while he brushes his teeth. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, rolling his eyes at the mess on his head, he brings his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it. 

As he thinks about what to wear, he gets lost in his thoughts, thinking about you, wondering what you will wear. Are you going to wear a dress? Another short skirt to drive him crazy with? 

He rolls his eyes, cursing inwardly at himself for thinking about you again. 

He needs to get this out of his system. 

He needs to get you out of his system. 

And there is only one way to do it and he knows it, but he’s not even sure where your feelings stand, if you’d be down for what he’s longing for or if you’d laugh in his face if he even tried to suggest something like it. – Your reaction would probably be the latter, and just the thought of it is enough to bring the grumpiness out in him. 

He begrudgingly starts getting ready, all while his mind keeps him occupied with thoughts about you. 

He doesn’t know what caused all of this, he doesn’t know how it happened, how his mind is incapable of thinking about anything or anyone but you these days. 

He feels as though he had been cursed. You are haunting him, in his mind and even in his dreams, and seeing you all the time doesn't help at all… and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way because this little thing between you both makes him feel a thrill that has been missing in his life. 

By the time Steve pulls up into the parking lot at the diner, you and Eddie are already there.

You’re sitting on the hood of his car, hands folded in your lap, sunglasses low on your nose, a smile on your lips as you’re nodding along to whatever Eddie is telling you. You look good… too good for just a simple breakfast at the diner. 

He parks the car and after a few deep breaths, he pulls out the keys and gets out, trying not to stare at you as he walks towards the two of you. 

“Hey guys.”

Eddie turns around, a mocking smile on his face, he crosses his arms over his chest, “took you long enough, big boy.”

Steve chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he eyes you from the side, “yeah uh, I missed my alarm this morning and Robin woke me up in the middle of the night to bail on us, took me a while to fall back asleep after that.” 

You groan at his words, sliding off the car, you smooth down your jean shorts and push your sunglasses up into your hair, “so she keeps ditching us.” 

“She’s in love, Sweetheart,” Eddie winks at you, wiggling his brows, “she’s got better things to do.” 

You roll your eyes at his words and look over Eddie’s shoulder, meeting his eyes for the first time today. You lick your lips as your eyes move down up and down his body. 

“Hey, Lego head.”

Lego head. The silly nickname doesn’t quite suit the look in your eyes. 

“Blondie,” he nods. 

Eddie chuckles, playing with the keys in his hand as he nudges his head into the direction of the diner, “let’s go eat, I’m starving.” 

“You’re always starving, Eddie,” you snort as you are the first to start walking. 

“Yeah man, you’re always eating and you’re still starving,” Steve chuckles, walking beside Eddie, “you’re like a raccoon or something.” 

You look over your shoulder, a smile on your lips, “oh he’s definitely a little raccoon.” 

Eddie’s lips part in surprise, he looks between you both, “did you just… agree on something?” 

You scoff at his words, turning back around without another word while Steve looks down, shaking his head. The weight of Eddie’s arm around his shoulder makes him look back up, though not at you, but at Eddie, whose eyes are filled with amusement. 

“You’re not trying to steal my girl are you?” 

Steve doesn’t know what is about the words ‘my girl’ but he feels himself clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth. By the tone in Eddie’s voice, he should know that he is only teasing, but apparently his mind isn’t able to comprehend that right now. 

He feels a fire in his chest that he can’t even explain, one that only grows even more intense a few moments later, when a guy who was just leaving the diner, steps aside for you after opening the door. 

Steve can’t see your face or the looks you are giving to the man who is staring you up and down with nothing but hunger in his eyes, but by the way you walk past him without even turning your head or looking back, he knows that you’re giving him nothing. And yet, it doesn’t stop his anger when the guy keeps checking you out, shamelessly, following you with his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at your ass. You’re not even aware of it as it seems and it wouldn’t be the first time. 

Steve saw you at Big Buy’s the other day, you were strolling around the aisles in your cute little dress, throwing food items into your basket, completely unaware of his eyes on you. He couldn’t look away from you… even when everything you did was riling him up, whether it was the way you bend down to reach for something on the lowest shelf, the way you touched your hair or the way your dress was moving by your sides as you walked. As he caught himself staring at you, at your effortless beauty, he knew that he couldn’t be the only one – and his suspicions were confirmed, when he looked into the other aisle only to see another guy, not past his 30s staring at you, something that you weren’t aware of in the slightest. He also caught himself rolling his eyes and clenching his fists… but that’s something that he easily ignored. 

Unlike today, he can’t even help it when he passes the guy who can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you with a deathly glare on his features, feeling anger for how shameless and disrespectful his ogling is, it’s disgusting. 

“Perv,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, glaring the same way Steve does. 

The guy doesn’t even spare them a single glance, moving past them after taking another long… too long look at you before he walks out of the diner. 

Steve and Eddie roll their eyes, following you to the table that you have already picked, completely unaware of what just happened. 

You sit down in the booth, sliding over to the window. You put your sunglasses down on the table and instantly reach for the menu. 

Eddie sits down beside you, while Steve takes the seat across from you. He tries not to look at you, sinking deeper into the leather seats as he reaches for the menu, as well. 

“What are you guys doing afterwards?” Eddie asks. 

“Nothing, just gonna go back home and watch movies or something,” Steve mumbles, peeking over his menu and at you, to find you looking at him already. 

“Perfect, why don’t you two have a little bonding moment and have a movie day together?” Eddie grins, wiggling his brows at the both of you. 

Steve sees the way you scrunch your nose up at his words, scoffing and shaking your head at him like it’s the most ridiculous thing that you have ever heard, like it’s something that you don’t even want to think about. 

“We’re getting along just fine, no need for bonding time.” 

Right. Steve had been so focused on all your teasing, he almost forgot about how much you two are supposed to dislike each other. 

“Exactly,” Steve winks at Eddie, “Blondie and I are doing just fine.”

He looks back at you, his eyes meet yours, you raise your brows at him, smirking as you tilt your head. 

“Are we?” You ask softly as you blink at him. 

Steve leans closer, licking his lips, he opens his mouth to speak but Eddie cuts him off, clapping his hands. 

“Yeah, you are getting along! Now shut your mouths before you start a fight.”

You both snort at the metalhead, leaning back in your seats, neither of you saying a word, you both just look back at your menu’s, focusing on that… for now. 

The busy waitress stops by your table, telling you that she will be back to take your order in a minute, seemingly catching Eddie off guard after placing her hand on his shoulder before she scurries away again. 

He no longer looks at the menu, he finds something more interesting to look at. 

Steve’s eyes flash with amusement as he looks over at his friend, whose eyes are wide and cheeks are red, an awestruck expression all over his face. He can’t help but nudge your foot under the table, tilting his head towards Eddie when you look up with a frown.

You turn to your best friend. Your features soften, eyes flashing with surprise, you bump your shoulder into his, clearing your throat, “hey Ed’s, before you fuck this up again, don’t you want to tell Lego head about what happened?” You ask, snickering. 

Eddie blinks, turning back to you, “h-huh?” 

“You have a man to give you his opinion of what you did wrong.” 

Steve furrows his brows, looking between your amused face and his confused one, when Eddie’s eyes flash with realization and he groans in annoyance. 

“Sweetheart, he’s gonna be on my side.”

“What opinion?” Steve asks. 

You turn back to your menu, scoffing at Eddie and rolling your eyes before you glance at him, “you’ll want to kill him.”

Eddie groans, shaking his head, his curls bouncing a little. 

“You’ll understand, Harrington. You’re a man. She is… looking at it from a feminine side of things.”

Steve gives you a quizzical look, almost laughing at the exasperated look on your face. 

“Alright shoot,” he says to his friend.

Eddie presses his lips together, taking a deep breath before he folds his hand on the table and looks at him with squinted eyes, “okay so, I saw this girl at the hideout yesterday, Jeff told me to go talk to her, you know… so I did. We started talking, she was funny and all that, and you know, I always like to be a little mysterious.” 

You snort, making Eddie roll his eyes again, “shut it, Sweetheart.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Anyways,” Eddie sighs, glaring at you, “so, when she asked me if I was there with a girl, I just said ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’” 

Steve draws back a little, raising his brows and pursing his lips, looking perplexed. 

“Uh huh..” You murmur, keeping your eyes on Steve. 

“Eddie,” Steve shakes his head, “just uh… did it… what happened then?”

Eddie sighs again, “well, she rolled her eyes and left, but you know, she may not have a sense of humor so… it’s whatever.” 

“Munson, that girl had a sense of humor, you just have a lack of fucking tact,” Steve says, shaking his head at his friend, in pure disbelief. 

Eddie’s jaw drops at his words, while a laugh falls from your lips as you turn to look at your best friend with nothing but satisfaction on your face. 

“Told you.”

“Seriously!?” Eddie gasps, frowning. “Harrington, you were always mean to girls in the past, and you still slept with them!” 

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. 

“That was in high school, Munson! You are a grown up now, why the hell would you do that? Just tell her you were there alone or with friends!” 

Eddie’s jaw drops again, he slumps back in his seat, throwing his hands up. 

“I just thought that a mysterious persona would work better than… you know… bubbly, happy, go lucky guy, desperate to get his dick wet persona…” He whines, “no one wants to fuck me.” 

You giggle, hiding your face behind the menu. 

Steve’s lips curl into a smile, he points a finger at you, “I’m gonna have to agree with Blondie, again, you’re a fucking idiot.” 

“Don’t worry, Eds. I’ll help you,” you say, smiling, “I’ll teach you how to flirt.” 

“How are you gonna do that, Blondie? Do you even know how to flirt?” Steve snorts. 

You may be a tease, a good one at that, but a flirt? No. You’re too rough, too mean, too harsh to be a flirtatious person, you can barely hold a conversation with someone without going off at them about something, you wouldn’t even know where to begin with, unlike him. 

He is a flirty person, he has charm, he knows how to wrap a girl around his finger with just a few simple words. 

He doesn’t know what to expect, but he surely didn’t expect for you to smile at him, to shrug and give him nothing more than a glance that tells him how wrong he is. 

After the waitress comes back to take your order, leaving Eddie a blushing mess, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to come back with your hair now free from the scrunchie that kept it together and another coat of gloss on your lips, something that instantly catches Steve’s eyes. 

You place your elbows on the table, putting your chin into your palm, blinking at him innocently. 

The look in your eyes tells him that you’re up to no good, but he can’t look away. He leans closer to the table, licking his lips as he raises his brows at you. Both of you are unaware of Eddie, who is basically drooling over the pretty waitress, too distracted to notice the looks you are giving to each other.

“The waitress, is she from Hawkins? Never seen her in my fucking life,” Eddie murmurs in awe. 

Steve turns his head to look at the woman, a gasp nearly tears from his lips when he feels your foot on his calf and you pull his attention back on you, he stares at you with wide eyes. 

Smirking in satisfaction, you pull your foot back and look down at your nails.

“I-I don’t know, Munson, not familiar.” He stutters without looking away. 

Steve knew that this would happen, that you would tease him in one way or another, but he didn’t know yet, just where you would take this today. 

When your milkshakes arrive at the table, both you and Steve watch Eddie with amusement as he stares up at the blonde waitress, eyes moving back and forth between her face and her chest, not knowing what to look at first. 

His eyes get stuck on the dainty cross necklace around her neck, seemingly growing more intrigued by her, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones. 

Steve narrows his eyes at you, almost laughing when you look at him, at the same time. 

Eddie’s cheeks are even more flushed than before now, his eyes wide, lips parted. The girl presses her lips together, trying not to giggle at the look on his face. 

“Your food will come right up,” she says, looking between you all before her eyes meet Eddie’s again as she takes the last milkshake off the tray, putting it on the table and sliding it towards him. 

He clears his throat, wrapping his fingers around the glass before she can even let go. 

Both you and Steve watch the way she smiles down at Eddie and at the fingers brushing against hers. 

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he smirks at her, surprising both you and Steve with the confidence in his voice. 

The girl smiles in surprise, before she turns around, walking away from the table but not without giving Eddie another glance, his lips curl into a bigger smirk and he waves his fingers at her.

Your mouth drops and so does Steve’s, both of you, looking at each other again, with stunned and puzzled expressions on your faces.

“Dude,” Steve mumbles, slowly turning to face his friend, “tell me… how did you fuck this up again… at the hideout, I mean?” 

Eddie only looks back when the girl disappears into the kitchen, “the girl at the hideout just wasn’t the right one.”

“Oh, and this one is?” Steve chuckles, pointing his thumb to where the waitress walked off to. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, dreamily. “She’s so…”

“Hot?” You ask as you reach for your milkshake, grabbing the red and white straw between your thumb and your pointer finger.

“Gorgeous,” he blushes. 

Your lips tug into a smile, you bring your hand up to his face, pinching his cheek, “aw, look at you.” 

He swats your hand away, snorting. 

“I thought you didn’t know how to flirt, you’re doing such a good job, keep it up, Eds.” 

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” Eddie winks at you before he looks away, eyes searching for the waitress again. 

“He doesn’t need your help after all,” Steve laughs, tilting his head, “not that you’d be much of a help anyways.” 

You squint your eyes at him, shrugging at his words, and you surprise him with your silence. 

He watches the way you lean forward, placing your elbow on the table as you finally wrap your lips around the straw. Your eyelashes flutter and you tap your red fingernails against the glass, a moan falling from your lips. 

“Mmmh, that’s so good.” 

Steve nearly jumps from his seat, the sound making his stomach flutter, he clenches his fists, staring at you with wide eyes. 

There’s no smirk on your lips, no mischief behind your eyes, nothing but innocence is etched into your features – you’re not even teasing him, it was nothing but a genuine reaction to the sweet drink. And it’s something that frustrates him even more. 

You reach for the maraschino cherry next, popping it into your mouth before you lick the whipped cream off your finger. 

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, he shifts in his seat, trying to look away from your lips… that are still wrapped around your finger but he can’t, his eyes are stuck, his body is stuck, he can’t move, all that he can do is watch you.

And then, you look towards him, eyes flashing with surprise when you find him staring. He hopes to see you blushing but instead, a smirk tugs at your lips as you release your finger, scooping up some more whipped cream before you bring it up to your lips. 

And this is where the real teasing begins. 

Steve nearly gasps when you hold eye contact this time as you lick the cream off your fingers, letting out another, softer moan. 

Holy fuck. 

Steve’s eyes darken, he swallows harshly, clenching his jaw in anger. 

Eddie is too busy with his own milkshake, ogling the waitress as she talks to customers at the bar, completely unaware of how you both eyefuck each other, the way Steve can’t take his eyes off of you. 

By the look in your eyes, Steve knows how much fun you’re having with this, you know how much it frustrates him, you know what you’re doing to him. 

And as though, all of this wasn’t bad enough already. You then accidentally drop some of the whipped cream on your chest. 

“Oops,” you purr, giving him an innocent look through your lashes. 

The warmth in his chest only grows more intense, spreading across his whole body, filling him up with need and a deep hunger that keeps growing and growing, one that can only be satiated in one way – he needs you, just once, he needs to have you, he needs to taste you, he needs to fuck you, he needs you out of his system for good. 

He had enough of this, of all this teasing. 

He would fuck you right there on this table if he could.

But, despite your teasing, despite the look in your eyes, despite your little act, he is still not sure about where you stand. He knows how you react to his touches, to his teasing, but a part of him fears rejection if he does make a move. 

You are barely even friends, and the thought of making a fool of himself, in front of you, makes him want to crawl into a hole. 

You are both playing this game, but while he knows what he wants, he doesn’t know what you want. 

Maybe you just enjoy this little back and forth, waiting for him to break first before you move along and pretend like nothing ever happened. Maybe you don’t even expect anything to come out of this. Maybe you don’t even want him the way he wants you. Maybe you just like to tease him because you know that it's riling him up. 

So what is left for him to do? 

Stop this game and move on? Or… keep going and wait for something more to happen? 

He’s had enough of your teasing, but he’s far from losing, there is still some power left in him… some. 

He won’t sit here and let you get away with this. 

So despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants, despite the burning in his skin, he plasters a smirk on his blushing face and reaches forward, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he mimics you, he grabs his glass and he reaches for the cherry on his milkshake, purposely dropping some whipped cream on the table as he puts the cherry in his mouth. He chews slowly, licking his finger tips while he watches you slowly, the way your smile slowly falls, the way your eyes widen a little. 

He bites back the smirk as he scoops up the whipped cream off the table, with both his middle finger and ring finger, bringing them up to his lips, he looks back into your wide eyes as he places them into his mouth, watching the way you break eye contact to look at his lips. 

Your throat bobs as you swallow, tightening your grip on your glass as you watch the way he licks his fingers slowly. 

He can see the way you shift in your seat, the way your breathing gets heavier and your eyes darken, the way you lick your lips and how flustered you get as you look back into his eyes. 

You are pressing your thighs together, he just knows you are. 

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, smirking at you in satisfaction while you still sit there, frozen in place. He breaks eye contact, looking down at his vanilla milkshake as though nothing happened.

“You gotta give this one a ride home, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at you without tearing his eyes away from the bar, “I think I’m gonna stay here a little longer.”

You clear your throat. 

Steve expects you to be more… nervous, to hear your voice wavering, but instead, it sounds confident, filled with yet more teasing as you open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh, I would love a ride home with Stevie,” you smile at him innocently as your foot touches his calf again, but this time, it doesn’t just stay there, you move it up, just a little, but enough to nearly make him choke on his drink. 

“So you can keep getting on his nerves?” Eddie chuckles. 

You lick your lips, smirking as you nod your head slowly, “exactly.”

Yeah, you don’t really do this anymore, getting on each other’s nerves, you both have found something so much better and much more interesting to do to one another. 

“You know I always win, Blondie,” Steve says so very confidently, like he isn’t slowly losing his mind because his want for you is beginning to consume him entirely. 

You tilt your head at him as you bite your lip, the sleeve of your blouse slowly sliding down your shoulder, making him gulp. 

“Do you?” You ask, batting your lashes at him, provoking him with the look on your face. 

He bites the insides of his cheeks, nodding at your words, “mhmm.”

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips, you shrug and lean back, “we’ll see.”

Eddie doesn’t know that you’re talking about something entirely else now, but he couldn’t care less, when he’s got his eyes set on someone that stole his breath away. 

He uses every second he gets with the pretty waitress to flirt, whether it’s through glances when she passes by or through his charming words when she delivers the food to the table. 

He happily eats his burger and his fries, eyes following the blonde wherever she goes, completely blind to what’s happening right next to and in front of him. 

You and Steve keep staring at one another, eyes filled with intense need, hands itching to reach out to the other. 

Steve feels the longing inside his chest, intensifying as the minutes go by, driving him insane. It gets to a point where he can’t wait to get the hell out of this diner so he can go home and take care of himself. He is not sure if he had ever felt this desperate before – he surely never had to rush home to jerk off, but that’s what he feels like now, like he’s going to explode if he sits here any longer. 

The moment you decide on leaving, Steve nearly throws himself out of his seat, feeling no patience left inside of him. 

“I got this covered,” Eddie announces, pulling out his wallet as he gets out of the booth so you can get out, “you two can go.” 

You grab your sunglasses and get up, putting your hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I see what you’re trying to do, you wanna get rid of us so you can flirt with the hot blonde.” 

He wiggles his brows, smirking at you proudly, “gotta score a date with my dream girl.” 

Steve chuckles, grabbing the car keys from his pocket, he smirks at Eddie, “just don’t mess it up again.” 

Eddie shakes his head, “nah never.” 

“Alright casanova, call me and tell me how it went.” 

“Call you?” He frowns, “I’ll be there to raid your kitchen tonight, sweets.” 

You step away from him, brushing past Steve, “alright raccoon, I’ll see you later then.” 

“See ya,” he chuckles. 

With a sigh, Steve looks at Eddie, playing with his keys and giving him a nod. 

“Good luck, man.”

“Thanks,” Eddie winks, “and don’t kill each other!” He jokes, ignoring the weird looks he’s given from an older couple two booths away. 

“Don’t worry, we’re not at that point anymore.” 

You’re at a whole different point now, one that doesn’t make him angry, not exactly, just one that drives him up the wall. 

Steve stares at your hips, at the way your shorts hug your body so nicely, the way your ass looks so good in them. He forces his eyes away, feeling a little startled when you turn around to face him before you open the door, a friendly smile appears on your face and he realizes that you aren’t looking at him, but at Eddie’s ‘dream girl’, waving goodbye at the girl before you step out. 

He feels the sudden need to talk, hoping that you won’t tease him any further in the car, because if you do, he isn’t sure if he will manage to control himself the way he did, the whole time at the diner. 

He rubs the back of his neck, walking down the steps, he clears his throat. 

“Do you think he will manage to score a date?”

You slow down as you put your sunglasses on, “yeah, I’m pretty sure he will.”

Steve chuckles, nodding. 

“She seems nice, and she’s pretty,” you say.

So are you. Steve thinks to himself. 

“She’s got the kind of blonde hair you wanted when you ruined your hair with the blonde dye, huh?”

Steve can’t see your eyes behind your sunglasses, but he can see the amused look on your features as your lips curl into a smile. 

He ignores the way it feels when you step closer to him, when your hand brushes against his knuckles, sending chills throughout his whole body. 

“Actually, I wanted it even lighter, and how would I know that the pictures on the box dye were lies, it said it lightens up any hair color to that specific color!” 

Steve laughs at you, “what color were you hoping for?” 

You shrug, stepping away from him again when you walk around his car to the passenger side. 

“I wanted like a Dolly Parton or uh… Heather Locklear kind of blonde.” 

He unlocks the car and opens his door, raising his brows at you, “wow, you should have gone to a hair salon, Blondie.”

You lift your sunglasses, rolling your eyes at him, “it was a spontaneous decision, I thought I could handle that myself, I’m definitely never touching hair dye again.”

“Just call me, next time,” he winks at you as he gets into the car, “I’m a pro at doing hair.” 

You laugh at him as you get in as well, “didn’t know you were a hairdresser, Harrington.” 

“They don’t call me ‘the hair’ for nothing.” 

“Oh wow. I wouldn’t trust you with my hair, who knows what color you’d dye my hair to.”

“Maybe I’d get it to the Dolly Parton blonde that you wanted.” 

“Yeah, right!” You scoff at him, “cause you’re such an expert!” 

A smile tugs at his lips, it almost feels normal, sitting here in his car with you, talking like this, it almost distracts him enough from the strong tension between you both, from the pull that is dragging him towards you, more and more. 

Despite the frustration that he feels from all your teasing, he cannot help but want to keep playing the little game. 

The sun is shining brightly, pulling down the sun visor won’t be enough – how convenient it is that he keeps his sunglasses in the glove compartment. He could ask you to get them but instead, he moves closer, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs before he places his hand on your knee as he reaches forward so he can get his ray-ban’s. 

Satisfaction rushes through him when he hears you sucking in a sharp breath. 

But, his longing intensifies when he gets a whiff of your perfume and feels how soft your skin actually is. 

He clearly never thinks things through, his little plans always backfire. 

The want to wrap his hand around your thigh and keep it there is so strong… so goddamn strong, but he pulls away begrudgingly, holding back the smirk when he feels your eyes on him. He puts the sunglasses on, and finally starts the car. 

Your silence surprises him, but he knows that it’s something that won’t stay for long. 

Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran starts playing and Steve almost wants to laugh at the irony, this is exactly what he feels like right now, hungry like a fucking wolf, hungry for you. 

If you had been any other girl, he would’ve made a move on you, a long long time ago. He would have flirted more obviously, he would’ve taken your hand in his, he would’ve brushed your hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you.

But you’re not just any girl, you’re… you. 

You love this little game, and no matter how flustered you get, no matter the looks you are giving him, he still struggles to read you, he still struggles to figure out whether you want what he wants or not. 

He is waiting for a sign, but it’s almost like he’s blind to anything you give to him. 

He holds the steering wheel tightly, keeping his other hand on the gearstick, dangerously close to your thigh. He keeps sneaking glances at you, at your soft skin, at the way you press your legs together, at the way your fingers play with the loose string on your shorts. 

Steve’s face grows hot, his heart beating faster in his chest. 

He almost feels relieved when your house comes into view, and he pulls up into your driveway. 

“So… what are you doing today?” You ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt, “besides having a movie day by yourself.” 

You turn your body towards him, not making any moves to get out of the car yet. 

“Uh… I don’t know,” he lies, his cheeks glowing red. 

He already knows what he’s gonna do the moment he walks through his front door. 

You take your sunglasses off, biting your lip as your eyes move up and down his body, making him shift uncomfortably, yet again. 

“Well, I’m going to lay out in the sun, in my new red bikini.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, and he almost starts drooling at the images that start forming in his mind. 

Images of you… half naked. 

“We should have a pool party at some point,” you smile, blinking at him as you start inching closer to him, looking down at his lips. 

“Uh huh…”

“But anyways, I should get going,” you sigh, catching him by surprise when you place your hand on his thigh, so dangerously close to where he needs you the most, “thanks for the ride, Stevie.” 

And as though that wasn’t bad enough. 

You almost cause his heart to stop beating, when your face is only inches away from him now, and you press your lips against his cheek, kissing him, completely shocking him, leaving him a stuttering mess. 

He lost all ability to speak, all he can do is stare at you, as his skin tingles and his heart races. 

You smirk at him, eying his red cheeks. 

“Who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever blush for me,” you say smugly, before you pull away and get out of the car, giggles falling from your lips. Without another word, you close the door and walk away, looking over your shoulder one more time, still giggling. 

Fuck. 

His frustration turns into anger when the realization starts creeping in slowly. 

The smug look on your face, the smirk and your stupid giggles prove his point, that you did all of this not because you wanted him, but because you wanted to win this fucking game. 

That’s all it is, that’s all it ever was. 

A game. 

He doesn’t know what the feeling in his chest is, whether it’s the feeling of annoyance or rejection, but it only irritates him even further, especially when all he can think about is still you. 

You in your stupid red bikini, lying under the sun, looking pretty and hot… looking like someone he can never have, not even for a single night. 

He is angry, angry at himself for still wanting you, for needing you, for wishing that he could feel your bare body underneath him, for wishing to hear your moans, your voice calling out his name, your hands clinging to his body, fingers tugging at his hair. 

Despite the rejection, he feels his stupid jeans getting tighter, his dick straining against the fabric, making him feel uncomfortable and so needy to a point that the moment he gets home, he rushes upstairs and into the bathroom. 

He slams the door shut and presses his back against it, hastily unbuckling his belt, the clinking and his heavy breathing being the only sounds to fill the room… for now. He pushes down his boxers and his pants, just enough so he can pull his dick out – his tip is an angry red, already leaking with pre cum, he spits into his hand before he wraps his hand around his aching cock. 

That is all that it takes for a needy whimper to fall from his lips. 

He closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the door as he starts jerking off slowly. 

Images of you curse and bless his mind at the same time. 

He wonders what it would be like to feel your hand around his dick or what it would be like to feel your lips on his neck, your whispers in his ear as you take care of him. 

He furrows his brows, lips parting as his moans get louder and he begins to move his hand faster and faster, squeezing his eyes shut. 

He pictures you on your knees for him, your hands replaced by your lips as he shuts you up with his cock in your mouth, silencing you once and for all, while tears stream down your cheeks.

“Oh fuck…” Steve whimpers, getting lost in pleasure. 

He wanted nothing more than to bend you over the table when you started teasing him with the stupid whipped cream, but all he can think about now is you on your knees worshiping him. 

His muscles tighten as he increases the tempo, using his thumb to rub the slit as he imagines it being the tip of your tongue as you look at him with big and teary eyes. 

And he doesn’t know for how long he was imagining you like this, but it doesn’t matter because he is soon spilling in his hand, a loud groan escaping his lips as well as a shaky breath, the back of his head hitting the door as he tries to ease his breathing. 

Maybe three minutes passed, or twenty, but it didn’t matter. His cum is already on his hand and in your honor. 

But this didn’t satiate his hunger, nor his lust for you in the slightest. 

Nothing that he could possibly do will. 

He can imagine you and take care of himself all he wants, but it won’t change the way he wants you, the way he craves you. 

He knows that there is only one way to get rid of this.

Tomorrow he will put his frustration away. That’s all it is, frustration. He just needs to let it out. He needs to fucking breathe again. 

Yeah. Tomorrow. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

[nctstar]

hi! i just read "one, two..." with djj × female pairing and i was wondering if you could maybe do a jeno, haechan and mark/jaemin version? i love your works!

your wish is my command bsf <3 also thank you so much! means a lot :)

don't let us kinkshame you!

“Don’t talk back to me. If you want to stop, we’ll stop. But don’t stop because you’re shy. Tell us what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, _. Don’t let us kinkshame you.”

pairing: markhyuckno x fem!reader, stylist!reader

other members: chenle (poor dude has no idea)

word count: 7.2k

genre: smut

warnings: this is purely a graphic smut so minors please dni!! foursome, everything is consensual (safeword is established + mentioned), dom!marhyuckno (hard dom!jeno), sub!reader, fanfiction smut is a main theme in this, wet dreams, alpha/omega/beta kink, alpha!jeno, sir kink, sort of muscle/size kink (i'm sorry but bulging biceps make me go insane), unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you get silly folks), rough sex (reader is manhandled/held down), degradation (liberal use of the words slut, whore, brat + other degrading terms), everyone has a ginormous dick, slight praise kink, sort of pain play (not really) intense orgasms, squirting, fingering (fem receiving), humiliation, oral (male receiving), nipple play, riding, crying during sex, spanking, begging, punishing reader sexually, profanity

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: thank you anon and sorry this is definitely the nastiest thing to ever come out of my imagination and onto my laptop. i think i'm on some sort of watchlist for sure

“Have you read it, _?”

“Read what?” The sound of the hairdryer muffled most sounds in the room, including Mark’s voice as you watched his mouth open and close with his answer. Running your hands through Haechan’s semi-dry locks, you noticed a lit-up phone in front of your face. Squinting, you read while your hands worked.

poison | alpha! jeno x reader | 18+

You swallowed thickly, but quickly composed yourself. Swiping the hairbrush off the dresser, you glanced at Haechan in the mirror, setting his hair at the same time. “Sounds like more action than you two would ever get in a week…combined.”

Haechan rolled his tongue inside his cheek, playfully annoyed while Mark remained undeterred, his eyes still glued to his phone. His eyes suddenly widen, and he looks away, a mix of morbid curiosity and shock in his eyes. “Damn...”

Haechan sneered. “Got a boner there, Mr Lee?”

An empty can of hairspray bounced off Haechan’s forehead with a dull thump, Mark’s chair now swivelled around to face him. “Guys! Let me do my job! We only have, like, 2 minutes to go, and Haechan, your damn hair isn’t setting.”

“I have to dye it every 2 minutes because I have a comeback that often, remember?”

“Have you been using the treatment I gave you last session?”

“Why? Would you give me a reward if I did?” His deep brown irises glistened under the harsh white lights as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. Smacking his shoulder in response, you tried to hide the way your heart was fluttering inside your chest, like a million butterflies trapped in a glass jar. “Lee Donghyuck!”

“It’s okay baby, it’ll be better next time.”

“Gross.” Embarrassingly, you felt your core twitch at the mere thought of those words being taken out of context. “Such a dirty mind. You sure you didn’t write that alpha fic?”

You were getting brave, but something inside of you forced you to keep going. Haechan scoffed, rolling his eyes and swinging one leg over the other. “Yeah, I don’t have the hots for Jeno. Mark might, though.”

“Say it one more time, Donghyuck, I’m warning you.” Mark was shrugging the salon cape off himself, brushing lint off the stage jacket. He towered over his hairstylist, on her tiptoes as she fixed the strands of hair that spiked strategically on his forehead. His undercut teased you from the side, and you swallowed deeply, thinking about last night. As if on cue, Mark turned to look at you, as quick as you would glance at the barista for your morning coffee. “See you later.”

That was code for see you later with my cock down your throat.

∞

“Nghhh, Mark.”

“You’re doing so well, baby. Think you can go a few more times?”

You nodded slowly, the swollen bulb of his cock sticking onto the remnants of your lipgloss.

“Fuck, such a perfect slut. How did we get so lucky, hmm?” Your hair tangled in his long fingers, he pierced you on his thick length, tapping your cheek with his other hand when you gagged loudly. “Shhh, quieter. Don’t want anyone else to hear, yeah?”

You whimpered softly, desperately trying to open wider to accommodate him. He pushed you deep until your nose grazed his pubic bone, your hands immediately coming to his thighs as a reflex. “Good fucking girl. God, I’m so close. All for you, baby.” You pushed on his thighs when you felt your throat restrict uncomfortably, coughing up saliva as you soon as his cock left your mouth.

Mark tipped your head up to face him, your watery eyes staring back at him. “Gonna make you feel so good after this, yeah?” His thumb pressed down on your tongue hard, forcing drool to slide down your chin. “Use your words, slut. Tell me how much you need my cock.”

Mark was usually mean, but today he was mean mean, and, though you were taken aback, you couldn’t say you hated it.

Garbled sounds left your mouth as Mark slipped his other fingers inside your mouth, forcing you to babble nonsense at him. He laughed darkly. “So pathetic.”

“Mark, please.” You gasped as he released your mouth, fingers now grabbing your chin tightly. “Wanna make you feel so good, s-sir.”

“Wanna make your alpha feel good, baby?” You froze immediately, the word alpha stunning you into place like a deer caught in headlights.

You and Mark stared at each other for much longer than would normally be considered sexy, the energy in the air quickly changing into something painstakingly awkward. Not wanting to lose the momentum you both had gathered or, worse, discuss what just happened, you grabbed at his cock and shoved your mouth onto him, making him stumble backwards and groan. The air was filled with sounds of sloppy head, all caution thrown out the window as you bobbed your head through his orgasm, not stopping until you felt hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat.

∞

“Mark, I will never let you forget this.”

“Haechan, be serious here.” Mark unbuttoned the top of his jeans, breathing out in relief as the seams on the size-too-small pants released its iron-clad grip on his body. The inside of the car was dark, the only light being that coming from Haechan’s phone, illuminating the bottom of his face and lips, now curled into a teasing smirk.

Haechan leant forward, seemingly trying to hide the impending conversation from the poor staff member tasked on driving them back to their dorm. “You used the word alpha unironically while you were making _ suck your dick? I’m actually fucking dying right now.”

“Oh my god, yes, we get it, I tried something new and it failed miserably.” Mark hissed under his break, sneaking one glance behind him. “But what was weirder is…well, you should have seen the look on her face. It’s like she got caught or something.”

Haechan chuckled lowly. “Or maybe she was just weirded the hell out, Mark.”

“Well,” Mark scratched at his head, the hair gel residue now itching at his scalp. “We usually…do more. But today, she just ran out after that and didn’t say anything else.”

“Good job, Milk. You just ruined your chances at sex with her forever, you freak.”

Mark sighed, pretending not to have heard him and frowning as if deep in thought. Haechan raised one eyebrow. “You don’t mean to say…”

“What?”

“That’s not what you’re insinuating, is it?” The car began to slow, and both men became wary of the newfound quiet inside the car as they cruised down a near-empty suburb, the odd man or woman dimly lit by passing streetlights as the walked by. “What are you talking about right now?” As Haechan reshuffled himself on his seat to get closer to Mark, one leg brushed past his, and he cleared his throat, trying to be as unsuspecting as possible.

“You think she’s into that kinda stuff?”

“Well, why would she run away then?”

“Think about what we were doing before this.” The words felt unsure even as they left his mouth, hanging in the air with uncertainty. It was too ridiculous no matter how he looked at it. But just he had to say it.  

The elephant in the room.

“Wait, wait. That’s her story?”

“Woah.” Haechan put down his phone officially, the car now shrouded in a new darkness, both men squinting to make out the other’s face. “I meant that she might have read it. Not that she…well.” He was visibly puzzled now, his voice faint but quick like a flurry of feathers. “I mean, there’s that possibility. But maybe she was into it, and you reminding her of it made her embarrassed.”

“But why would she be embarrassed? We do worse things, for sure.”

“Okay, first of all, gross. Second, she probably hasn’t accepted it herself. I mean, that fic…” He leant back, his jacket crinkling loud in the almost silent car. “There’s stuff in there that goes way beyond your regular wild kinks and shit.”

“She doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl.” Both men sit in silence for a while, letting that sink in. “I mean…she would be confident enough to be bolder about that kind of thing, you know? She’s the kinda girl that knows what she wants, when she wants it, exactly how she wants it.”

“Right.” Haechan bit his lip, trying to hold back the words that’s so fucking sexy for fear of being teased mercilessly for months. He knew you belonged to no one, yet there was a part of him that recognised that you would probably never choose him to have your way with. The way you looked at Mark, eyes glazing over in deep submission, a stark contrast to the way you looked at him, so many things hidden behind those playful, bratty eyes.

Mark hummed under his breath, phone now in hand. “She’s coming tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I think it’s her shift tomorrow.” Haechan didn’t think, he knew. He knew you worked Mondays and Fridays and the occasional Wednesday, always arriving between 13 to 16 minutes early to go to the bathroom first, stepping into the dressing room just a minute before and no later. It was creepy, for sure, but he couldn’t help it. He felt the need to be ready whenever you were there. He needed you to see him only in the ways he wanted, layers of banter and smooth mannerisms hiding his true feelings underneath, the way his heart slammed against his ribcage and threatened to break free whenever you moved close.

“Well, we’ll see how she reacts then.” Mark slouched against his seat, his voice fading away as his attention shifted, and Haechan marvelled at how five second thoughts of you had rendered him completely amnesiac to what he was just talking about with Mark. He closed his eyes, letting his body naturally drift off into an exhausted slumber.

 ∞

“Hey boys.”

Your satin-clad hips swayed back and forth as you walked, one hand re-applying your gloss for what felt like the dozenth time.  “Anyone need a touch up or are we all good here?”

Mark was surprised at your easy demeanour, as if nothing was ever going on between you guys, let alone the encounter you two had had only yesterday. He cleared his throat, sweat dripping down his forehead as another staff member helped him unzip his top from the back. “You look…nice.” He wondered if it was obvious that he was trying to keep his eyes locked on your face, not wanting his gaze to linger too much on your body.

“Yeah, I’m dressed for the event after this. That’s still happening, right?” Your heels clacked against the linoleum floor as you stepped forward. Haechan was only two steps ahead of you, his hair in the hands of another stylist. You whispered something to her and she let go, walking away with the gel stick still in her hand. “Look forward.”

“Didn’t really strike me as the party type, _.” Your last name drawled off his lips, lazy and nonchalant. “Always stroke me as weird book girl in the corner type.”

“And what if I am?” You started backcombing his stiff strands, grimacing at the residue the gel was leaving and the way it was inevitably mixing with his sweat. “I can be both, can’t I?”

“Sure. You could be a writer, couldn’t you, _?”

Haechan could have sworn that even for a split second, a moment so small, so ­­blink and you’ll miss it, that you hesitated. Your hands shook with the energy of a tiny hummingbird flapping its wings, so swift it stopped as soon as it registered. “Nah.” You sounded different now, like you were feigning innocence to hide the fact that he had cornered you.

Mark and Haechan shared a knowing side-eye as Haechan felt firm pulls on his scalp. “You should probably get going, Mark.” His name fell solid in the air as it left your mouth, as certain as a command would be, and your peripheral vision caught the ends of his body as he packed up his things and left soundlessly.

It was only you and Haechan in the room now, the other stylists now long gone (a/n: how convenient!), leaving behind only the mess of a true makeup studio, products strewn haphazardly across the plastic dressers. You watched Haechan lick his lips on instinct in the mirror, only now noticing the various sticky notes adorned with Korean letters you weren’t too familiar with. “No, don’t. You’ll mess up the- oh, never mind.” You sighed, but it didn’t feel relieving at all, as if your muscles were constricting up again instead of letting go. Haechan talked at your reflection. “Sorry.”

A whirl of your arm sent his chair turning so he was now facing you, bending over to match his eye level. “Hold still.” As your breaths played out of sync, you were hyper aware of every sensation. The way your hairs stood on end. The smell of his musky cologne now filling your nostrils. Your bare legs suddenly burning hot, slightly brushing against the inside of his knees. Your eyes fighting to stay up at his face and not stray downwards. “That’s it.” You glazed his lips over with your applicator, gripping the tube and the arm of the chair in one hand.

You were used to these intimate positions, particularly with the job you had. But, as you realised you had just applied your own lipgloss onto him, a different feeling was dawning on you.

As you locked eyes, Haechan spoke, bold and ready. “It would be insane if you didn’t kiss me right now.”

The first noticeable sensation was the sticky mess that threatened to spread over the edges of both of your lips, lewd sucking noises now filling the air as you both dived deeper. Your tongue flitted over his lips and he groaned. “Fuck.” Readjusting in his chair, he slapped his thigh. “Sit, sit.”

“No.” Pulling away, you turned his chair once again to face the mirror and patted his shoulder. “Stand up.”

“W-wh…” Confused, he stumbled off anyway, wheels turning and the seat rolling away from the impact of his stand. He turned to face you.

“Good boy.” You smirked, lips now grazing the supple skin of his Adam’s apple, hands travelling down to his pants. “Is this what you wanted all along, baby?”

He stared, eyes slightly glassy, rimmed with smudged black kohl. Tilting his head back, he breathed soft moans onto your skin as you sucked on his neck, red blooming onto his olive skin. “A-ah.” Squeezing his eyes shut, he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, I need you right now, Hyuck.” Something about using his real name felt too intimate, affectionate even, and he kissed you as you unbuckled him, semi-stiff cock hitting your clothed pelvis. Pushing him back onto the vanity, you angled yourself, him eventually helping you by giving you a small lift once he realised what was happening. Up on your toes, one leg slightly elevated, you let your walls suck him in all at once. “O-oh, fuck.”

He thrusted upwards, iron grip on your hips unchanging as you clawed at his back, the studs on his jacket rough underneath the pads of your fingers. The pleasure was spreading to your chest, rendering you speechless. “Oh my god, oh, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You begged, feeling your thighs slip against each other as your own arousal dripped down your legs.

“_? You sleeping right now?”

You awoke with a gasp, your phone clattering onto the tiles as you sat up. “Woah, take it easy. You alright?” He leant over to pick up your thankfully intact phone, shuffling closer with one arm outstretched and eyebrows gently raised.

Before you was Lee Jeno, blonde hair grazing the top edges of his round eyes, body bulging against the thin fabric of the white shirt. His waist accentuated by a thick leather belt, you noticed the outskirts of his toned stomach peeking out from under his top. Gulping, you nodded. “Y-yeah. Thanks, um…” His name died on your lips, as if some sort of curse prevented you from ever uttering it.

“Here. You sure you’re okay? You were sleeping pretty deeply, even in this noise. Sorry, I didn’t know if I should wake you…”

“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, I’m the crazy one, right? Sleeping at a party!” You tried to laugh it off, but a snort came out instead, and you blushed intensely. Oh my god. This is so embarrassing.

Unfazed, Jeno smiled, eyes turning into semicircles as he did. “It would be fine if you went home, you know.” He tilted his head, blonde hairs perfectly aligning to one side. The charisma radiating off him froze you in place, and you had to unglue your eyes from his face. “Ah, yeah.” Truthfully, your body felt like it had been through a dryer, and your joints were cracking like popcorn. You needed sleep for sure.

He jumped from the couch, letting you bounce slightly. Looking up, he extended his arm. “Come. I’ll drop you off.”

∞

You felt exposed. Not only because you were in the skimpiest outfit you owned, but because halfway through you and Jeno’s exit from the party, he had decided it was too cold and had changed into a hoodie and sweats, making him look less and less like a colleague or client or even friend and more like an idol sugar daddy. Nevertheless, you didn’t oppose his company, and you both rode back in silence, his knees knocking into yours occasionally, making your heart flip each time.

It’s not that he made you nervous, typically, despite your tiny little crush on him. But it was the way he woke you up right in the middle of your wet dream with another man, mere hours after his bandmate had you on your knees sucking him off. Every time he leaned over, your name leaving his lips so effortlessly as you stumbled over yours, your hands shook with the thoughts than ran wild in your brain. Did he know? You wondered, as he droned over some tiktok video, whether he knew about your sexual rendezvous with his bandmates, some real and some imagined, and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach only grew as time passed.

It didn’t change as you had reached in your apartment, him somehow still on the topic he was on in the car, now manspreading onto your couch as you sat quietly across from him.

“But like, do you get it, _?” He sipped on the coffee you had made for him, marvelling at how quickly he drank something that usually took you an hour to finish. “Not bad. But why would he even do that, you know? Maybe she didn’t realise that he knew, but oh boy, he definitely knew.”

“Right.” To be clear, you had lost the plot ages ago, shamelessly thinking more about how close in proximity your bodies were, how comfortable he suddenly was around you, and what it all meant. “Do you want, uh, something else.” Shyly gesturing at his empty mug, you tucked hair behind your right ear, the movement unsteady.

He stared directly at you now, letting your anxiety rise and fill the space between your bodies. Holding the gaze, he dropped the mug in front of himself on the table, only then dropping his head dramatically in between his collarbones. You frowned.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “I must be annoying, right.”

“No, no, not at all!” Your voice was much more high-pitched than a woman with any self-esteem, but you kept going. “I mean, that’s fine, Jeno, really. It’s nice to see you, like passionate, and um…” Your babbling continued, and he only smirked in response. Your stomach turned as you suddenly watched as his eyes change, darken around the edges. Suddenly the lights in your apartment felt harsh, exposing, like the lights on a fresh crime scene.  

“_. I know about the fic.”

“What fic?” It was on instinct, but your ears starting ringing, blood running cold in your hands and feet. This isn’t real. This is another dream.

“Awww, don’t be embarrassed, baby. It’s okay to think those things about me.” He slumped backwards, one arm around the back of the couch, a subtle cocky smile starting to bloom across his face. “Markie told me how good you are anyway.”

“Jeno…” You fought the urge to gasp, your face burning from the inside out. “I, wait, um…”

“Shh, stop that.” He leaned forward with an almost-too-eager attitude, but he held himself back as he spread his knees wide, pointing at the ground. “Here.”

“Fuck, this isn’t happening.” Your hair whipped the sides of your face as you shook your head vigorously, slowly gazing up at his long frame as you did. You swore you heard him laugh quietly. “This is another dream, isn’t it.”

“So you dream about me?”

“No, it was about Hae-“ Jeno’s eyes widened before he guffawed loudly. “Fuck, _, you’re nastier than I thought. Was he good? Better than Mark?”

It was your turn to be shocked, eyes widening as he shook his head, letting his hair ride up his forehead. “Why, did you think it was a well-kept secret? Have you seen Mark? He glows with the radiance of a man who gets his dick sucked on the regular.”

“Jeno.” You wanted to be stern, but your voice came out kind of soft, almost like a whimper.

Jeno rolled his eyes. “Stop stalling, _. You heard me the first time.”

“But-“

“But what? If you want to stop, you can just say cherry. That’s what her Jeno told her to say, right?”

He had read the entire thing. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening.

As your body filled with an airy energy, you realised you were actually getting horny. He wanted you, maybe even needed you, and that filled your stomach with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. You slowly gulped, hearing the couch shuffle as you moved off it, walking over to him.

“Good girl. On your knees, baby.” You obeyed silently, eyes onto the floor as you waited.

“What are you waiting for, slut?” You felt Jeno’s rough hands grab the short strands of your hair, making you squeal like a tiny animal. “Do you wanna go home without tasting alpha’s big cock tonight, hmm?”

“Nnngh…n-no.” You eyes began to water at the force pulling on your scalp, hands fumbling around the waistband of his grey sweatpants. Your heart began to pound as you eyed the sizable bulge he was forming in his boxers.

“That’s it. Now hands behind your back.” As his length sprung out of the tight confines of his underwear, you cried out as it hit you square in the nose. “O-oh my god. Oh…fuck, wait, I don’t know.” Feeling Jeno’s unforgiving grip on your head keeping you dangerously close to him. you brought your palms to his knees, ready to push him away.

“What is it now?”

You shook your head, throat constricting already at the thought of his length inside your mouth. “It’s…well…fuck, it’s huge.”

As you looked up at him, you watched him give you a condescending smile. “Do you think alpha cares about you, baby, hmm? Why are you telling me all this? I don’t give a flying fuck. You either take all of me, or you leave. But you’ll leave a bad omega.”

Any other scenario where someone said something like this would have made you cringe, maybe even laugh, but today you felt your breath catch inside your lungs, as if someone was squeezing them extra tight. Word for word from the fic.

Whimpering, you folded both your palms around his girth, making him hiss. “Oh fuck, can’t even wrap my hands around it.” you whispered.

“You guys started without us?”

You jumped off your knees, your brain already forming the myriad of excuses before the initial shock settled and the words finally registered. “What the hell are you two doing in my apartment?” You glared at Mark, and now Haechan, who was slowly starting to come out of the shadows like a creepy stalker.

“Spare key.” The metal glinted as he hung the keychain off his fingers before grabbing it in midair. The same key you had handed Mark a few weeks ago, back when your little sessions were becoming daily (or multiple times a day) and you were sick of having to do the whole thing where he would have to come to your place an hour after you had arrived in case people were following him, or worse, taking pictures. He would have to wait into ungodly hours into the night on days you worked the night shift, which would let the spontaneous lust you had both gathered over the course of the day fizzle out by the time your tired body came home. You couldn’t be seen together outside of the workplace for various reasons, so having him come first carefully and you after had been working pretty well so far.

Except, well, for times like this.

“Mark!” You exclaimed, now fully facing him and closer to his lean frame, the waft of cologne hitting you as you trodded towards him. “Are you serious? You came here without my permission? And let someone else come too, at that!” Haechan acted insulted at this, mouth parting in mock surprise.

“I’m sorry, baby. But come on, Jeno had a great idea that we just couldn’t miss.” He brought one hand to stroke the side of your face, making you wince slightly. The ends of his fingers were like electricity, having more power over you than you liked to admit. You made eye contact with Haechan, and it was like you were back inside your dream. This. Wasn’t. Happening.

“I-wait…are you guys…seriously, what, you’re not saying-“

“Alright, talk over. Get over here, _. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.” Jeno let one arm hang lazily across the arm of your couch, another one stroking his length at an agonising pace. Your eyes felt like they were bulging out of your sockets, and your stomach churned nervously.

“Stop drooling and suck me off like a good omega. Come on, don’t be shy.”

You were on your knees again, Jeno’s cock at eye level, trying to ignore your newfound audience with a very telling tremble of your legs. Opening your mouth, you began to suck around his tip, the salty precum exploding on your tongue. You felt a hand on the back of your head, and you jerked away immediately. “Stop teasing. Come on, show your alpha and these dumb little betas what you’re good at.” You whined. “Fuck, fuck.” Choked cries filled the air as Jeno impaled you on his cock with one hand, his tip hitting the sensitive part of your throat and making you gag loudly.

As he pulled you off, strings of saliva attached him to your lips, embarrassingly making your core clench around nothing as you marvelled at how filthy this entire situation was. “So big.” Your voice was raspy, juices slathered over your chin as if he’d been fucking your mouth for hours. Jeno let you engulf him whole again, the sloppy sounds becoming more rhythmic as he bounced your face back and forth on him. “Hands off me and behind your back.” You balled your fists as you listened to him, closing your eyes as he groaned in pleasure. “So warm and tight. All for me, yeah?” You shook your head up and down as you hummed in response, looking up and him with your watery eyes.

You watched Jeno’s eyes drift away from you to something behind. “Ah, wait, let me get her off me first.” His voice changed now, you barely comprehended what was happening as you gasped for air post pull-off, before feeling a resounding slap on the back of your bare thighs. “Ah!”

“You think you can just leave me after sucking me off, baby? After all that we’ve been through.” You felt your skirt be pulled up, making you sit back on your heels. “Nuh-uh. Get up, let me see you.”

“Fuck, Mark, I didn’t me-oh!” This time he hit your ass, hard, jolting you onto Jeno’s thigh, his cock still grazing the side of your cheek. “Oh, fuck. Mmm.” You tried to shuffle forward but Jeno grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them on his thigh on one side. “Take it like a good girl.” The sting was immediately compounded by the feeling of our own arousal dripping down your thighs, the nasty realisation dawning on you that these assholes were recreating every scene that was written in that damn fic.

“Oh my god, I just wrote it, I didn’t…ah, Mark,” You whined as he squeeze a sensitive part of the plush on your backside. Between hits, you managed to sound out, “I, oh…ah, I didn’t write it for me – oh fuck! Nngh, didn’t mean it, oh my god.” Tears threatening to spill, you resorted to begging. “Mark, M- sir, please!”

“You called, baby?” Trying to turn your head uncomfortably back, you coughed. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean it?”

“What was that, hmm?” Two fingers in your sopping core and you gasped. “Ah, mmm, sorry, sir, ah…”

“So fucking wet. All from me punishing you like that. Is this what you liked all along, you dirty girl? To be our little sadist fucktoy.” One hand around your shoulders and another still knuckle deep inside you, he pulled you up so that your back hit his clothed chest, grip tight and unfaltering. You moaned, feeling the pads of his fingers curl up towards your g-spot. “S-sir, fuck, so good, so good, please…”

“Please what?”

“Please, want more.” You began to bounce your hips on his fingers, head floaty. A sharp slap across your face brought you back to reality, head whacking against the bony part of Mark’s upper chest. “Fucking whore, moving without permission like that.” Jeno was now gripping the ends of your chin, groin facing you once more. “Finish the job, baby. Don’t fucking care what he’s doing.”

“Yes, alpha.” You could have sworn you heard Haechan sigh, a mixture of pleasure and awe, but the moment passed as you took Jeno’s monstrous length once more, your jaw aching already. Mark took this opportunity to start fucking his fingers into you faster and faster. His teeth grazed your earlobe. “You like this, baby? Or you too busy tasting alpha cock to care?”

Your body squirmed under his arm, feeling his muscles bulge against you. Your head felt like jelly as Jeno pounded into you, one hand pushing your forehead down into place. You felt like a little doll being passed around, a slave to your desires, and you screamed as you came, liquid squirting out of your hole and all over your tiled floor as you did.

Your head began feeling floaty, but Jeno wasn’t giving in, and neither was Mark. You tried to get away from his fingers, core already sensitive from your orgasm, but he began to stroke your pussy once more, making you shake your head. Too much. The words were muffled around Jeno’s length, but they seemed to get the idea. “Just a bit more, baby. Tap me if you want to stop.”

Your hands in place, you let Jeno finish inside your mouth, cum leaking from the edges of your lips even as you swallowed diligently. “What a good omega.” Jeno cooed as you fell forward onto your hands, Mark finally releasing you. “Fuck, that was so good.”

“We’re not done yet, honey.” Your head whipped up, looking at Jeno towering over you, cock now hanging limp. “You haven’t taken your pretty boy-toy yet.”

Meeting Haechan’s eyes, you suddenly felt self-conscious at the way you were – skirt half up your ass, wet thighs and chin, a true testament to how much you had been used. Your eyes travelled to the unmistakable tent in his pants, dawning on you that he wanted you too. “H-Haechan.”

“Should’ve just told me you wanted me, baby? Do you know how many times I wanted to just bend you over and fuck you until you begged me to stop? Now I know what a perfect slut you are…”

“Fuck, Hyuckie…”

“Oh, baby.” He began to unzip his pants, hazelnut skin illuminated in the dim lights as you looked up, crawling over shakily. “Tell me what you want, sweetie.”

“Want you so bad. So…s-so much…”

He stopped in his tracks, eyes rolling and crossing his arms across his chest, much to your dismay. “Seems like you don’t want me that bad.”

“No, fuck, I do, I do, I-“

You felt Jeno’s hand land on the skin of your bare ass, making you flinch and look behind in surprise. “Go beg for cock, baby. I know much you need it. Don’t care who’s it is, do you?”

“N-no, I care, I do.” You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt frustrated, feeling like you were being teased unfairly. “I need all of you, please, please.”

“Use your words.” Mark’s voice was stern, unwavering, making you squeeze your eyes shut. You felt blood rushing to your head, impairing your ability to think.

“I felt alpha’s cockhead tease my entrance, and I sunk onto his thick length, crying out as I did. I felt so fu-“

“Oh my god, no, stop. Stop.” You tried getting up, but your legs wobbled, making you stumble forward ironically onto Haechan, his hands now on the sides of your arms, steading you. “You alright? What is that?”

“It’s the fucking fic, oh my god.” In the heat of the embarrassment, you hadn’t noticed Haechan drag you onto his lap, letting you hang your head over one shoulder as you buried your face in your hands. “So embarrassing.”

“Another man’s cock, possibly a beta, pushed inside me with my alpha. Nails dragging against my alpha’s muscular back, I cried, saying it was too much, the stretch ripping me apart, but alpha held me down, shushing me. Pain turned to pleasure and I threw my head back, letting my release spray all over the two men, passing out as soon as I did.”

“Holy shit. I hadn’t seen that part.”

“Yeah, it’s part two. She wrote that last night. Probably too horny to go to sleep, were you, baby?” Your tear-streaked face now facing Jeno, you shook your head. “No. I wrote it-“

“Don’t talk back to me. If you want to stop, we’ll stop. But don’t stop because you’re shy. Tell us what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, _. Don’t let us kinkshame you.”

Haechan now sucking on the thin skin of your neck, you gasped, eyes fluttering and your bare pussy now resting on his clothed bulge. “Fuck, uh, need to be fucked, filled, with both of you. Take another in my mouth, please, fuck, I wanna cu-“

“That’s better, slut. Begging to cum like the whore you are, rutting against him like a little bitch in heat. Go ahead, ride him. Do it properly or you’re not cumming again.”

Your hands scrambled for the zipper, Haechan throwing his head back as his hard, long length sprung out of his fly. He groaned and grabbed the back of your neck, squeezing hard as you pumped him impatiently. “Don’t tease.” Lifting yourself up, you aligned your soaking core to his tip, moaning in staccato as you let gravity let all of him be sucked inside you. “H-Hyuck, oh, fuck, so tight.”

He readjusted his hips, making your hair fall in front of your eyes and your hands slam, splayed out onto his upper chest. “Ah…” You moaned as you rode him, feeling every inch pound your insides, tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. Haechan guided your face to his and slammed his lips onto yours, letting your moans escape into his mouth.

Leaving love bites on your collarbone, Haechan dragged one hand under your shirt, rolling the ends of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger. “H-Haechan, oh, wait-“ You cried out as he pinched the end, not hard enough to be excruciating, but enough to be uncomfortable enough to make you cry out, letting some of his length slip out. “Fuck! I’m sensitive, please.” You heard him shush you, your whines lost amongst the sounds of skin slapping skin as you rode him diligently, trying not to slow down as he played with your chest. “Just felt you squeeze around me, good fucking girl. You like having your body played with like a little brat, hmm?”

Jeno pulled your head back by your face, Haechan releasing your left nipple with an agonising pull, making you cry out. Bringing your upper body back to meet his, he wrapped one arm around the bottom of your stomach, firm and unforgiving. “You wanna take alpha too? Hmm?”

Incoherent sounds left your mouth as you felt Haechan’s cock slide out of you, tingling from the closeness of your orgasm. You felt a sharp smack at your core, making you arch your back. “Haaah…fuck! Yes, yes, s-sir!” Trying to shut your legs on impact, you felt Haechan pry them open again, and, with Jeno tipping you forward, you let him slide back in. Haechan wrapped one arm around the back of your shoulders, another on your lower back, pushing you down on him.

“Hghhh, alpha, please…” You weren’t sure what you were pleading for anymore, your voice sore from all that had happened already. Feeling Jeno’s massive bulb press against your core, your breath quickened. “Ah, fuck, what if it doesn’t fi-oh, ah…” You and Haechan moaned in unison, feeling the tight space get even tighter as Jeno pushed inside, inch by inch.

“Fuck, my little omega takes cock so good.” Tears ran freely down your cheeks, the stretch borderline unbearable but addictive. Your muscles sloppy, you gasped. “I’m so stretched out, alpha, please, can’t move…”

“Shh, you just lie there, baby, and cum when you need to, okay?” Jeno’s voice suddenly soft, you felt something warm spread across your stomach. “Yes, y-yes, alpha, trust you, wanna be good f’you, ah…” You cried softly as Jeno started sliding slowly in and out. “So good, alpha, so good, please, fuck me, oh god.” Jeno started picking up his pace, rendering you speechless, squeezing the back of Haechan’s neck as he jerked his hips up in sensitivity. “Oh my god, Haechan…” Burying your mouth into his neck, you felt a tap on your head as soon as you did, looking up in reflex. Haechan let go of your upper body, letting your hips roll against the two cocks now sliding in and out of you at a pace that was only getting faster. “Did you forget about me, honey?”

“N-no, Markie, ah…” Letting your chin rest against the arm of the sofa, Mark slid his cock easily down and out of your throat, letting the saliva messily drip all over his aching length. “Fuck, what a good cockslut. You think you can get me off again, hmm? Swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nodded, but a sharp smack to your ass made you shake and lose your balance, Jeno pulling you back onto his chest again. “Did you ask alpha for permission, brat?” You cried as Jeno pounded you ruthlessly, shaking your head and mumbling apologies in between moans. “What do you want, baby? Use your words. Or I swear to you I’m not letting you cum.”

“Mmm, wanna suck Markie’s cock, alpha, ah! And…swallow his cum, oh, fuck!” Haechan pushed his length harder into you as Jeno pushed your hips down. “Fuck, alpha, fuck, want you and H-Hyuckie to fuck me while I do it, please, please…” You sobbed as Jeno released you, seemingly happy with your words as he snapped his hips into you. “Oh my god…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your eyes, feeling Mark bringing your near his cock as the pleasure made your legs vibrate. “Hang on, baby. Cum with my cock in your mouth.”

“Alpha, cum, please!” You cried, voice disappearing as you choked around Mark’s thick length. Jeno tapped the back of your hips, mumbling something in support just as soon as you saw white, feeling your own juices spray uncontrollably and your hole constrict as you came around both of them. Haechan cursed as he filled you with his own thick release, Jeno pressing you down as he came into you seconds later. Mark used your mouth as you weakened gradually, muttering sweet praises as he shot his load down your throat, the bitter taste waking you out of your trance.

As you heaved, you wrapped your arms around Haechan, feeling multiple hands rub up and down your bare back. “That’s a good girl. Good job, baby.” You nodded, closing your eyes and drifting off, your body and mind well and truly spent.

∞

“Hey, you alright?” Chenle looked at you with a hint of concern, not clear whether it was directed at you or at his makeup that was now looking a little bit unusual. You shook your head with the tiniest movements, tapping his cheek again with a pale blush. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t move your head.”

“Fine. You just seem different today.”

“I’m okay. Just a low energy day.” Beside you, Haechan and Jeno shared the smallest side glance, Mark smirking at himself as he changed behind the mirrors.

“Big night?” Chenle smiled at you through the mirror as you scurried around the drawers, looking for the angled eyeshadow brush, his hands adjusting his hair to his liking. You sighed, a true muscle fatigue-likes feeling spreading through your body and getting worse with each client. You were actually so tired, and, unprofessionally, not hiding it very well.

Then again, you were probably doing something that would be considered generally much more unprofessional, so you didn’t let it bother you too much.

“You could say that.” You slammed one drawer a little too hard, apologising immediately to the drawer and then rolling your eyes in frustration and embarrassment. “I-I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be back.”

As your heels clacked away, getting softer and softer, Chenle got up, letting the salon cape fall away from him. “What’s up with her?” He mumbled to no one in particular before walking away. Mark soundlessly nodded to Jeno and Haechan, a nonverbal assurance that he would be outside, and Jeno patted Haechan’s shoulder as left shortly after, leaving only Haechan in that small backstage room.

As Haechan stared at his reflection in the mirror, makeup done and hair only half, he opened his lips, letting some tension escape his body.

He thought about you.

How maybe his little white lie didn’t technically hurt anyone in the end.

Technically.

Technically, you were the one who got fucked (in a good way) and got the money for translating poison.

Technically, you did write it. Just not from scratch.

Technically, you were also into that.

But so was he.

He remembered how embarrassed he was when you first found out, and what you said to make him feel better.

“Oh Haechan, don’t worry about it. Don’t let me kinkshame you.”

How right you were in the end.

#nct #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct dream #nct fanfiction #nct smut #hard dom nct #dom nct #mark nct #nct mark #dom mark #mark lee #mark lee smut #hard dom jeno #alpha jeno #sub reader #jeno smut #lee jeno #nct jeno #haechan #lee haechan #haechan smut #stylist reader #nct dom smut #hard dom smut #nct imagine #kpop imagine #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut

[violetsiren90]

Make Me

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut; platonic(?) fluff; BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom (and such a good one); MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play if you squint; mentions of wet dreams and sexual fantasies; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling in a domination context; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace but also the absolute best; Hobi in the studio 👀; wrestling (sexual context); spanking (sexual context); p*ssy-stepping; p*ssy slapping; sexual frustration; some initial shame and embarrassment (reader needs to work some things out); reader tries to run away from herself a bit; temporary ghosting; working through new desires and feelings; dirty dancing; ALL the communication; establishment of sexual roles/partnership; talk about birth control and protection; Hobi curses a LOT during domination scenes; leash/collar play; oral sex (male receiving); throat fucking; Hobi slaps Reader's tongue with his c*ck; cum swallowing; aftercare; restraint play (sex swing, heehee 😈); manual clitoral stimulation; teasing; unprotected vaginal sex (reader is on birth control & previously consents); female orgasm from vaginal penetration; very brief implication of a possible brush with subspace.

Word Count: ~16,000 (Double its originally intended length, oops 🙈)

Author's note: HOLY HECK IT'S FINALLY HERE. When I say I had the time of my life writing this...like, wow. I was already under Hobi's spell, but now I am OFFICIALLY down in the worst way. This fic and it's premise were completely out of my comfort zone, but I couldn't be happier that I ventured into this world, because the research alone has given me so much respect for the BDSM community, and specifically the dom/sub relationship. I hope I did as much justice to that very special dynamic as possible between these two characters (with whom I have deeply fallen in love). If you read this, I hope so very much that you enjoy it!

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Acknowledgements: The biggest of thanks to @orchidyoonkook who not only beta-read this fic multiple times, and is practically the voice of this Jimin, but also gave me so much wonderful insight into the BDSM communicty from that big sexy brain of hers (which contains an incredible amount of knowledge about so many things, let me tell you!). But most of all, she gave me the encouragement I needed to get this out of my imagination and onto the page, even when I was doubting myself the most. Yoons, I love you! Couldn't have done it without you. 💕

"What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

     You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

     "Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

     The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair. 

     "Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes. 

You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

     Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

     You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

     "Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

     He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

     "He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me." 

     At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. 

You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath. 

     Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down.

It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

     "Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

     "I told him…

“What?”

“I said..."

     "What?"

     "Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

     You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. 

You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. 

Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? 

That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. 

Shit.

     "Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

     He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

     "Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

     You don't answer him. You can't.

Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his gray sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

    "Is it?"

    You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him - standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

     "Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

     He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bear.

     "You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

     He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

     "...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

     "Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

     You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

     "Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?" 

     "When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

     But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom - 

     "When you're a filthy, pathetic little slut."

     A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together – whether to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure. When he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes flutter frantically open. 

     "Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?"

Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long – something that yearns to feed.

     You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

     "I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. 

His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want – your friend. 

Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

     "Y-yes! Yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

     So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body.

You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.  

     "A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his saccharine words.

     You blink, your mind running up against the sudden pet name – one that he has never uttered in a tone like this before – as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous. Something simple maybe...a flower...?

     "Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

     "Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever – okay? You say that. Foxglove." 

     You nod.

     "Say it for me," he whispers, and you shiver again. Fuck.

     "Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

     "Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

     You scramble to find your voice.

     "Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

     He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

     "I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

     He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

     "See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

  He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

     "Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

     "No, Hobi," you whisper. 

And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

     "That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

     You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and absolutely exhilarating.

When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want.

You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

     "You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

     "Make me."

     His eyes go wide and wild.

     "So that's how it's gonna be?"

     The words are heavy and dark, but you think his mouth twitches up at the corner when you arch a recalcitrant brow in response.

     He hums and licks his lips, and you're on the verge of saying something about getting on with it when his hand darts out and fists a chunk of your hair, yanking it back with a force that makes your head spin. He's glaring down at you with eyes so hard and menacing that your rebuttal dies on your tongue. The hand at your nape squeezes and the pressure that seers your scalp is exquisite, spilling a moan from your lips as your arousal becomes more than you are capable of repressing.

     "Don't you challenge me, brat," he rumbles from low in his chest as his hand twists against your head and lowers your back to press against the black leather.

     You whine in protest, and your palms fly up to shove at him, but his reflexes are like lightning as he snatches your wrists away to pin them above you. Your head spins, eyes losing focus as your whole body flushes with warmth in the wake of his domineering aggression. 

     You wriggle in his hold, relishing in how his grip tightens and the cold steel in his eyes glints as you resist him.

     A knee slides between your legs as he leans over you menacingly, close enough for the padlock charm around his neck to lightly tap your raised chin. Good girl, it seems to whisper in Hoseok's voice, stay put.

     Yeah, fuck that.

     You snatch the necklace up between your teeth and yank it to the side where it bites sharply into the corner of your mouth.

     The sudden motion catches him off guard and he falters, crashing down on top of you with a noise of surprise and losing control of your hands.

     You scramble against him, rolling both of you to the floor with a thud.

     Your heart is hammering in your chest.

     You hear him grunt, his strong hands grappling with your thrashing form, and you catch just a glimpse of his shining eyes and white clenched teeth as he flips you over onto your stomach, hands in a vice grip at the small of your back and your cheek pressing into the cold, hard laminate.

     You start to move again but he pushes his weight into the slender fingers splayed over your spine with a low rumble in the back of his throat and you still with a groan.

     You're pressed so deliciously firmly to the floor. You can feel arousal soaking your panties as your nerves alight everywhere he has wrested control of you. You can hear him pant, proof of his efforts, and the image of his provoked expression from seconds previous flashes through your mind.

He seemed so cool and collected before. So unbothered. To think that his blood is up and because of you? You let out a trembling breath.

     "Fuck," he hisses lowly, then bends to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.

They're soft as they drag over your skin there, feather light. Your whole body shakes, and you feel his mouth pause.

     "I don't know who the hell you think you are," he whispers cruelly, "But you were right about one thing...you're not a good girl. You're a disobedient little harlot who needs to be taught the rules of this house." 

      You whimper pathetically as he presses into you even more intensely, restricting the expansion of your lungs.

     "Now," he says nosing at your exposed neck as he begins to pull away, "how about we teach you a lesson or two, hm?"

     You feel his weight leave your back, and see his figure rock back on his heels out of the corner of your eye. You are just on the verge of retaliating again when you let out a yelp at the sudden shock of your hips being yanked upward by the back belt loop of your denim shorts. Hoseok lets go of your hands and they fly forward to brace yourself as your ass raises into the air and your knees move toward your chest.

     And all at once you know what's coming and you feel your pussy clench in the mere anticipation of -

     Smack!

     You let out a wanton wail as the sharp crack of his hand against your right glute jolts through your body like a lightning strike and ends with a slam at your swollen clit.

     Again - harder! Your mind screams. So you press out a whinging moan of complaint.

     SMACK!

     It has the desired effect.

     CRACK!

     Your jaw is slack, but no sound escapes as he punishes you. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts. As if he's attempting to brand your ass with the shape of his hand. But holy hell is it making you drip. Every slap jolts your body and brings the tiniest friction to where you're neediest. Where you've never been needier in your life.

     Please punish my pussy....

     You try to mumble the words but all you can do is drool onto the floor as he deals out pleasure and pain from above.

     And then he stops. You feel hands deftly and swiftly rolling you to lie on your back.

You blink up through bleary eyes, drawing a hand across your mouth to wipe the spit away. Your shoulders are sore.

     He's leaning over you, a hand still on your hip, eyes scanning your face.

     "What? Did you say something? You need to speak up."

     His tone is still biting but his eyes seem to hold a genuine question. Concern.

     Warmth floods your chest as it registers that he wants to be able to hear you if you need him to. If you want to stop. But the light has never been so goddamned green.

     "Want..." you murmur, "...more, Hoseok."

     He curses, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he leans forward to take your jaw in his hand again. He rakes his gaze over your soft, swollen features, unfocused eyes, and heaving chest.

     "Look at you so fucked out and all I did was smack that gorgeous ass." 

     He licks his lips, shaking his head in seeming disbelief as he releases your chin with a little shove. He leans back, dragging his hands over your bare thighs.

    "More, hm?" he hums. 

     You nod eagerly.

     He purses his lips and considers you through narrowed eyes, and you sense that if you want him to give you what you so desperately desire, you're going to have to show him you can take it - and take orders. You lay still, hands twitching at your sides as you look up at him through wide eyes. 

     He continues to run his fingertips up and down your legs as he breathes out a long relenting sigh.

     "Alright," he relents, "You took your punishment well, so you should be rewarded, I suppose."

     You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart rate rising again at the prospect.

     He tilts forward, looming over you again as he asks the question you've been dying to answer since you woke up breathless all those weeks ago.

     "What does my little brat want me to do to her? Let's see if she can use her words."

     You blink up at him, unsure if you have permission to speak...or how to put your request into words that won't make you want to immediately melt through the floorboards.

     "Cat got your tongue?" Hoseok sneers, pretty, heart-shaped lips curling up at one side.

     His hat discarded in your tussle, wavy brown tresses hang down over his brow and his eyes sparkle darkly through them. His features are so beautiful - their loveliness thrown into sharp relief by the flinty pitilessness of their expression.

     You're tempted to continue simply soaking him in, if not for the pounding ache in your core demanding that you find your voice.

     "I...I want..." your lips tremble as you will yourself to tell him what you need.

     Perhaps he senses that you require a little encouragement, because his eyes harden and he digs the edges of his nails into the flesh of your knees, causing you to yelp and moan and then...

     "I want you to step on my pussy! Please..." You press out your request with the last of the breath in your lungs.         

     Hoseok's eyes flutter shut at the last word of your plea.

     "Say that again," he commands in a husky whisper, and even without further specification, somehow, you know.     

     "Please..." You groan, letting your legs drop open demurely.

     His eyes are still closed, but he can feel the action with his hands, which have now slipped just inside your knees to your inner thighs. He inhales deeply through his nose, before exhaling with a shuddering breath. When his lids languidly raise again the piercing onyx of what they have unveiled is pinning you to the floor with more deadly force than even his hands ever could. Your pulse pounds in your cunt, your head still swimming from your previous position as he pushes himself up to stand. 

     As you blink up at Hoseok towering over you, standing between your splayed thighs with his midnight gaze boring into the damp denim covering your heat, something inside you long ajar quietly but firmly clicks into place. 

     "Tell me, brat" he seethes, eyes roving your trembling form stretched out beneath him, "Who makes the rules in this house?"

     "Hoseok-ssi," you whimper, so needy the ache is beginning to hurt.

     Every cell of your body is awake with a desperate anticipation that only he can satisfy...or deny.

     You have never felt more alive.

     And then something happens and your brain shuts off entirely. 

Everything vanishes: the studio, the traffic outside the western window, the city of Seoul and South Korea and the whole goddamned planet rolling around in the Milky Way. Nothing exists except the tip of Hoseok's Air Jordan ghosting over the swell of your crotch. 

     Your mouth waters as his foot slowly slides forward, then goes completely dry as you feel it settle with the sole aligned directly with your slit. His eyes flick up to your face, but you can't hold his gaze for more than a millisecond as he begins to apply pressure to your mound.

     Your eyes roll back in your skull, head lolling as your neck goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream as the man above you presses down with a low hum over your sex. The seam of your shorts is biting deliciously into the tender flesh of your clit, sending shockwaves through your core like a live wire, and when he rolls his foot in a circular motion you think you see god. 

You do scream then, but it's nothing more than a strangled sound in your throat as your fantasies materialize and he leans his weight into his stance, punishing the soft fat of your cunt with the sole of his shoe.

     You're going to cum. He's barely touched you and you're going to cum. He seems to see it in the twisted ecstasy of your features as his lids hood his eyes and filth begins to spill from his lips.

     "Do you like that, brat?" he taunts, "That's what you get when you're a good little girl for Hoseok -  you get your pretty wet cun-"  

     Click jangle clack - boom boom boom! 

     Hobi springs away from you, hopping back on one foot with wide eyes as a succession of rapid knocks follow the stilted motions of the locked door handle. You scramble up from the floor, heart pounding and breath coming fast as you toss yourself into the corner of the couch. 

     Boom, boom, boom!

     "Hyung, are you naked or something?" comes a familiar if muffled voice from the other side of the wall.

     You fumble for your phone and Hoseok runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath before pulling open the door.

     The man belonging to the impatient knocks and muffled accusations stumbles headlong into the studio, the locked entrance against which he had pressed his ear and most of his weight having been pulled out from under him.

"Jimi...nie...?" Hobi greets his bandmate and his eyes track the other's toppling form with surprise and a hint of agitation. 

     Yoongi ambles in casually behind him, sipping a dewy americano through a straw, a beanie sitting atop his ashy locks gnomishly.

     Jimin nimbly pushes himself to a stand from where he had crashed against Hobi's desk, not a strand of his coiffed platinum blond hair askew as he spins around face to the dance captain. But before he can get out a greeting or an excuse for his manner of entrance he freezes as he spots you in the corner.

His eyes flick to Hobi's hat on the floor, then to the pink flush on the apples of his friend's cheeks. When Jimin's eyes slide back over to where you are curled into your nook, eyeing him warily over the tiny shield of your phone, his plush lips slowly spread into a sickeningly devious smile.

     Hobi scoops his hat up off the floor and tugs in back on before taking a seat, carefully, you notice - thighs pressed together and leaning forward - in his rolling chair. The implication of his posture has you sweating into your shirt.

You need to get it the fuck together.

     "If I would have known you were here I'd have brought you a kimbap," Jimin says, wicked grin still plastered on his face as he holds up a plastic convenience store bag.

     You blink. 

     "Oh, uh, that's okay..." you bluster, waving your hand. "I'm not hungry anyway." 

     It's true. You just lost your appetite for the foreseeable future, stomach a raging sea of nerves as Jimin places the bag on the desk.

     Yoongi shuffles over to sit at the other end of the couch, raising his free hand and drawing his mouth into a straight line in greeting. You manage your own tight-lipped grin and flash him a peace sign, hoping you did it quickly enough that the tremor in your hand went unnoticed.

     "To what do I owe this visit from my bros?" Hobi asks from where he's turned toward his computer screen to save the neglected file. 

His voice is cheerful, but you can hear the strain - how it's pitched just half a tone too high - and Jimin's eyes are still on you.

     "I dragged Yoongi hyung out for some fresh air. I took him to lunch and grabbed you a snack on the way back."

     "Yah, you took me to lunch? Then why did I pay?" Yoongi grumbles from beside you, his bare features pinched into a grumpy pout that makes him look particularly feline.

     "Because you love me," Jimin coos at him and the older musician's mouth quirks up into a smile he can't seem to repress. 

     "What are you working on, Hoba? Which track?" Yoongi murmurs around the straw between his lips, blinking patiently as Hobi seems to shake himself, pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair before readjusting it on his head and swiveling back toward his computer screen.

     He hits play on the track and Yoongi leaves the couch to join the other two.

     This is all so normal, so typical of the guys - the affectionate repartee and chat about ongoing projects. And on an average day, you'd have joined right in. 

But today is not an average day. 

No.

Five minutes ago, you were spread-eagle on the floor six inches from where Jimin stands, with Hoseok's shoe on your bits.

     You have to get out of here.

     "I'm, uh, I'm gonna head out, boys," you muster, making a beeline for the door as soon as the inertia of your decision gives you the courage to peel yourself from the corner of the couch.

     "You're leaving?" Jimin's voice quips in a saccharine whine, with the slightest edge that makes you avoid his eyes as you slip out with a parting wave.

You do catch Hoseok's expression, whose head snaps up at your parting movements. His brows furrow and his lips part, looking as if he wants to say something, but he doesn't.

     And then you're gone.

    Your smart watch trills as your heart rate enters cardio territory. Your chest is heaving, breath coming heavy as the pliant cushion of your couch gives way to the crown of your head pressing back into it, eyes pinched shut and hand shoved down your pants. 

The bullet vibrator you have pressed to your clit is doing everything it should, and you feel it coming - your orgasm. 6:12pm on a Tuesday and it's already your third self-love session of the day. 

You tense your thighs, urging the building pressure in your core to boil over, and quickly. You groan and grit your teeth as your administering hand starts to shake. You writhe and whimper for a moment. And then it's over.

     You stare up at the ceiling of your apartment, breathlessly huffing out a despondent sigh as the empty ache in your chest returns. It has become your loathsomely devoted companion in every waking moment over the last ten days, filling you with an unshakable restlessness and sickly discontent.

     Nothing can slake it. Not reality TV. Not Cabernet Sauvignon. Not overtime hours. Not ASMR wood-soup videos. Not yoga. Not Ben and Jerry's. Not midnight runs on your NordicTrack. Not fucking yourself to climax on every single goddamned toy you own. 

     The little monster you roused the weekend before last in Hope World hasn't returned to sleep. No. She is wide awake. And she seems to grow more ravenous with each passing day. 

At first you tried to ignore her, but she kept you up into the long, bleak hours of the night. And so, in a fuzzy, staticky haze some time after midnight a number of days ago you typed some words into a search engine that would probably have your assigned FBI agent doing a spit-take.

     The thing is, you'd never seen "50 Shades of Grey", you'd never been interested. It wasn't as if you were a prude - hardly! You have always enjoyed sex, both intimate and recreational. In fact, it has always been one of your favored methods of blowing off steam, and you knew quite well how to please yourself and how to guide partners in doing the same.

     You have never had problems in taking what you wanted in life, in taking charge and ensuring that things play out your way – it's what makes you so good at your job, and valued by your peers who know that they can rely on you to take the reins and rise to the occasion.

     So when you suddenly stumbled unprepared into the world of BDSM, your visceral reaction to the concept of submission left you wondering...why?

Why, why, why? 

Why does this do it for you? Why did your very linear, stable existence have to be completely disrupted by this discovery? And most urgently of all, why, for the love of everything sacred, did all the porn in the whole wide world fail to accomplish even a fraction of the effect of Jung Hoseok's size 9 sneaker? It's all too overwhelming to process.

     You let out a frustrated whine as you pull your sticky, cramped hand, still clutching the little purple bullet, from the confines of your pants. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table and you can see the notification is from Jimin. You've been ignoring his calls and pleading texts to meet up, or just pick up. You can't face him. Not after ghosting Hobi.

     You feel a pang twist in your stomach as you haul yourself toward the shower, hoping the hot water will wash away the guilt you feel for ignoring Hoseok outright. He texted you almost immediately after you left the studio, asking if you were alright. You let him know that you were, with just one word: yeah.

     You had typed and retyped that response. "Yeah, thanks" seemed too weird. Like, thanks for what? Almost making you cum with the tip of his shoe? No. "Yeah, sorry" felt pathetic. What were you apologizing for? It seemed to imply...regret? Or fault. Neither of which would have come from a genuine place. And beyond a simple affirmation, you certainly didn't have words. So, "yeah" it was. He tried to call you later that evening, but you didn't pick up. You were already way up in your head by then. It had been radio silence since.

     You toss a coconut steamer onto the wet shower tiles and sigh, catching a glimpse of your face in the bathroom mirror as you slide the glass door shut.

     "Coward," you mutter as you close your eyes and slip under the cleansing stream.

     You're wrapped up in a blanket cocoon and sipping a cup of sleepy-time tea, trying to distract yourself from the messy tangle of emotions waging war across your various chakras with season two of Single's Inferno, when a knock on the door startles you out of your simmering reverie. You heave yourself off the carpeted floor of your living room and scoot toward the door like a fleecy Jabba the Hutt to peek through the peephole.

     Your vision is obscured as another eye looks back at you from the other side of the concave glass. You jump back, dropping your blanket shroud in a pile around your feet and let out a yelp of alarm. You slam a hand over the peep hole as giggles erupt on the other side.

     "Yah! I know you're in there - so let me in!"

     Your entire body sags against the door in relief as you recognize the voice of the would-be intruder. You swing the door open to grant him exasperated entrance.

     "Park Jimin, you just took ten years off my life! Creep," you bluster, gathering the blanket up around your body as you retreat back into your apartment. 

You plop down again in front of the TV, knowing that Jimin came to either talk you into going out or to just talk, and either way, you are truly not in the mood. Your friend snickers behind you, sauntering into your kitchen. He returns with a beer, bringing the frosty green bottle to his lips before sinking into an armchair and regarding you with an expression that waivers between amusement, pity, and disgust.

     "You look awful," he remarks, taking another swig as his gaze roves your unkempt appearance.

     Your features twist into a frown, eyes never leaving the television.

     "You don't get to barge into my apartment, steal my booze, then insult me, Park," you snip, burrowing further down into the fluffy mass encasing your body.

     Jimin raises a brow, a small smile still playing on his lips as he follows your eyes to the television where YouTuber Dex and professional model Lim Minsu flirtatiously splash about in a ridiculously opulent indoor swimming pool.

     "Fuck, Dex is hot," Jimin mutters.

     "For some reason he reminds me of Jungkook," you smirk, glancing over at him for the first time since he arrived.

     He grimaces theatrically.

     "I don't see it."

     The contestant on the screen flashes his Paradise companion a blinding smile and raises a tattooed arm to cut through the water, content to show off his stroke precision as his date watches on. The resolve on Jimin's face falters .

     "Yeah, well...Dex is hotter."

     You scoff.

     "Yeah, no. Kook-ah is definitely hotter."

     "For the love of god, just don't tell him that, okay?" Jimin pleads, "That kid is insufferable enough these days."

     "You love him."

     He hides a smile behind another sip of Hite.

     "Why did you ghost Hobi hyung?"

     Jimin blinks innocent eyes at you, as if he hasn't just dumped the last week and a half of silent agony over your head like a bucket of ice water. But the chill is momentary, because the next second your body feels like an oven. You stammer.

     "I-I...ghost him? I didn't ghost anyone...I'm busy...I..." you trail off weakly as your friend's unimpressed and knowing gaze bores into your soul.

     You sigh and scrub your hands over your face.

     "Because I'm a big chicken, okay?" You murmur into your palms.

     You don't know why, but you feel like crying. When you pull your hands away from your face, Jimin must see it because suddenly he's on the couch wrapping you in the kind of hug that reminds you why he's your ride-or-die, and in the safety of his embrace the tears begin to fall. Days of being alone with yourself and your conflicted feelings pour from your ducts and onto the front of Jimin's bright yellow flannel. He coos words of reassurance, admonishing your tears, as he strokes your hair.

     "Talk to me, you silly goose," he hums with an endeared chuckle. 

     You sniff and hiccup as you pull away, wiping your puffy eyes.

     "I don't even know what to say, Minnie...I don't know what's wrong with me..."

     Jimin smiles and grabs a few tissues from the box on the coffee table, dabbing them against your nose.

     "Well, first of all, nothing is wrong with you. But second of all, tell me what is bothering you."

     You heave a dramatic sigh.

     "If I tell you, you have to swear - and I mean swear - that you will not make fun of me or tell anyone else. And I mean not Taehyung, not Yoongi, not anyone, you hear me?" 

     He smirks, but nods in assent. You narrow your eyes at him.

     "Say it. Out loud." You demand warily.

     Jimin rolls his eyes and throws up his hands.

     "Yah! Okay! I won't tell anyone," he quips mockingly.

     You sigh again and draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. If this gets too hard to talk about with eye-contact at least you'll have a place to hide your bashful face.

      "I..." you start softly, not sure where to begin except the beginning, "Re-remember that thing I told you when we got plastered a little while back...about...Hobi?"

     Jimin's lips quirk at the corners as he nods.

     "Well...the thing is...wait!" You cut yourself off, suddenly gripped by a notion that has you prematurely flustered and indignant. "What did he tell you?"

     Jimin shakes his head, a small smile still playing on his full lips.

     "Nothing," he responds, looking you dead in the eye in a way that has you almost believing he's telling the truth. 

     "No, really," you press.

     Jimin leans back against the arm of the couch from where he faces you, running a hand through his hair and drawing his legs up to criss-cross in front of him.

     "Jagi, this is Hobi hyung we're talking about. You think he would do that? He has too much respect for you. He would never. Not to anyone. Not even me."

     Your chest floods with relief, affection, and regret. Fuck. Of course he wouldn't. He was too mature of a person for that. Too considerate. Too lovely. And you hadn't even had the gumption to speak to him for the last ten days beyond a mono-syllabic SMS. Jimin watches your expression do emotional acrobatics.

     "So..." he offers encouragingly, "something...happened....between you guys, right? That day Yoongi hyung and I showed up? We...uh...interrupted something, didn't we?" He can't help a devilish smile, eyes twinkling as he carefully phrases his query.

     You bury your face into your knees and squeak out an affirmation. Jimin lets out a bright laugh and you immediately raise your burning face in a scowl.

     "Hey! You said you wouldn't-" 

     He waves his hands in apology as he attempts to gain his composure.

     "Mianhae, mianhae! I'm not laughing at you!" He insists, leaning forward to grab your swatting hands by the wrists.

     "Sounds kind of like you are!" You huff, yanking your arms from his grasp.

     "So..." Jimin hums, tilting his head to track your gaze as you try again to hide your face, "If he's down, and you're down...what's the problem? Why did you run and hide? Did your feelings change?"

     You slowly raise your eyes to his, searching them as you decide just how much you're willing to tell him right now. You chew on your bottom lip as you realize you need to get it out. All of it. You drop your legs to mirror Jimin's posture, lowering your defenses with your millionth-and-first sigh of the evening.

     "Okay...well..." you muse, fiddling with the blanket still draped over your lap. "You know how I told you that stuff that I...dreamt...about Hobi?"

     Jimin nods.

     "Well...something did kind of happen...and well..." you trail off as Jimin raises his brows expectantly.

     "Oh, fuck it!" you bluster, exhausted by your own attempts at delicacy. "He dominated me and I liked it. I really really liked it, okay? And it freaked. me. the fuck. out. Like...I've neeeeever felt that way before about fooling around. It wasn't just fun, or, like, pleasurable...it was...almost..." you search for the words as Jimin stares at you raptly. "...Freeing? Like, a relief. Like, a 'where has this shit been all my life' moment."

     Jimin hums and nods, interlacing his fingers and leaning his chin against his knuckles.

     "Like...I don't know...I'm a very independent person. And capable. And, yeah, things have been crazy stressful at work, and I have a lot on my plate...but I handle it, you know? In fact, I don't just handle it, I kind of...enjoy the pressure of leadership and responsibility? It drives me. I've always been like that, in every area of my life..." 

     Jimin smiles and lets out a sound of recognition.

     "So the one who wears the crown is wondering why it feels so good to be...subjected?" He waggles his brows. You roll your eyes.

     "Grow up, dude."

     "Am I right, though? I'm right."

     You find yourself chewing your bottom lip again.

     "Essentially. I like power. I like control. What is this sudden obsession with losing it? It's...scary. And confusing."

     Jimin smiles. 

     "You know, it's actually not that uncommon, from what I understand," he states, reaching for his abandoned beer on the coffee table.

     You quirk an eyebrow.

    "I mean, everyone is different, and this is a journey you're going to have to take for yourself to get the answers, but from what I know about the BDSM community, it's not unusual for people who are in positions of power to crave a bit of a...reprieve."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah," he nods, reclining back again against the arm of the couch, "The bedroom is a good place to let your walls down. Maybe the only place, for some people. And with a trusted partner it can even be healing to play a different role than you do in other parts of your life."

     It's your turn to smirk.

     "You talk as if you know," you prod playfully, shoving your toes into his shin. He smiles that wicked smile of his and you laugh.

     "What I'm trying to say is, maybe it's not just about the...dynamics. Maybe it's also that it's Hobi hyung. He knows you. You know him, too. You trust each other. Maybe you could get to know each other in a new way. Be something for each other that you both need." He takes the last sip of his beer and twirls the bottle in his hands, gazing at you with a gentle thoughtfulness.

     You nod slowly, digesting his newly offered perspective.

     "So," you muse, raising your eyes to him again, "You think he needs it too?" 

     Jimin shrugs. 

     "Only he could tell you that for sure. But I do know this, he's awfully good at being bossy, and doesn't get a lot of opportunity to run the show - outside of dance practice, that is."

     Chuckling nervously at the thought, you try your best to conceal the spark that has crackled to life from the burning coals inside you at the mention of his natural command of authority. 

     "Hey," Jimin posits with a grin, "Maybe if he's spanking you he'll go a little easier on us when we screw up the choreo..."

     "EXCUSE ME THE FU-WHAT?!" You shriek, snatching up a throw pillow to beat him mercilessly as he falls in raucous laughter to the floor.

     Turning to glance over your shoulder at your reflection in the mirror, you smooth your hands over the back of the svelte black bodycon number you've donned for the evening. You're a vision in monochrome, having paired your LBD with sleek stilettos and dark smokey eyes with heavy lashes.

     Your phone buzzes, indicating that your ride share is close by. Butterflies flutter in your belly as you reach for the finishing touch to your outfit: a velvety black choker with a sliver o-ring studded in colorless topaz. It's just fashionable enough to still look like a necklace, but it gives you a bit of a thrill to know that it's not. To know what's tucked inside your purse to accompany it. To wonder if, going unnoticed by most, it will catch a certain pair of dark eyes.

     The drive across town to reach the Jihope residence never felt so long. You try your best to calm your nerves over the last few blocks of distance - it’s just a party, after all, and kind of a silly one at that. 

During Jimin's last visit, he mentioned that he and Hobi would be throwing a Black Day party for all of their single friends the following weekend, and after dodging his attempts at socialization so religiously of late, you felt you owed it to him to attend.     

     Black Day had never been something your group of friends had ever observed before, but it was incredibly chic to do so this year, for whatever reason. And of course, all the organizing duo of the soiree needed was the slightest excuse for Jimin to party and Hobi to host.

     Upon arriving at the building, you can already hear the music pumping from the top floor, and the chatter of guests spilling out onto the terrace. You present your ID to the security guard at the front gate, and are escorted to a private elevator that whisks you up to the penthouse. Being quite successful and comfortable yourself, you still find yourself surprised when reminded of the sheer net worth of your humble, down-to-earth Bangtan pals. Hobi is worth the most, and while he is an excellent investor and a generous philanthropist, he also likes to show out, and in style.

     You take a deep breath as you buzz the bell.

     The door swings open to reveal a handsome young man in a black t-shirt tucked into baggy dark-wash jeans, his fluffy brown hair parted in the middle and his ears glinting with rows of silver hoops. His round eyes scrunch into little moons and he flashes an adorable toothy grin, endearingly lopsided where it stretches deeper against the little orbital piercing at the right side of his bottom lip.

“Noona!" he growls, pulling you into a bear hug. "Where have you been? The last two times we went to noraebang there was no one to sing Through the Night with me!"   

     "Ah...hah...", you nervously chuckle, pulling away from his embrace as you search your brain for an excuse other than business.

     "I'll sing with you, Googie!"  

     You turn to see your salvation from further explanation in the form of a giggling young woman bouncing up to clutch Jungkook's arm and steady herself as she sways on her platform heels. She smells like soju and fruity perfume.

     You smirk and thank her, patting her hand where it clutches your friend's tattooed forearm before she's dragging him away down the hall.

     "Make sure she stays hydrated!" You call after him with a shake of your head, making your way through the throng of guests to the bar area. 

     The furnishings of the residence are a study in classy postmodern minimalism, punctuated with abstract urban art – though you notice that some of the Kaws pieces are missing, likely stored away for safekeeping from rowdy party-goers. 

     The sleek chrome and granite full-service bar is stocked with liquor and beer, and a commissioned mixologist is crafting darkly colored cocktails. A buffet-style spread offers the traditional jjajangmyeon and an assortment of other delicious eats.

     The spacious dining area is littered with small tables draped in black linens, each bearing centerpieces of hellebore, leather leaf, black carnations, and eucalyptus. The living room has been converted to a dance floor, complete with a glittering disco ball. House music booms through the built-in speaker system as guests in groups and pairs move to the beat.

     You glance over a drink menu of themed cocktails as a voice sounds from over your shoulder. 

     "I recommend the Down With Love."

     Turning, you flash the speaker a grin.

     "Alright, but is it giving Judy or Barbara?"

     Taehyung raises a disparaging brow.

     "It's a gimlet. Judy, obviously."

     You chuckle, putting in your order for the suggested beverage.

     "You look good," he remarks, gesturing at you with the unlit cigarette tucked between his first two fingers, his other hand slipped into his pocket as he leans against the wall.

     He doesn't look bad himself, you think, in his black satin top and flared Merlot trousers.

     "Thanks," you smile as the bartender hands over an inky concoction garnished with a grapefruit slice twisted into the shape of a heart and run through with a toothpick.

     You eye it skeptically.

     "How do they make it black?"

     "Activated charcoal. C'mon."

     Tae links your arm through his and weaves through the bustle to a table of familiar faces. Yoongi raises a whiskey tumbler in greeting and you clink your glass with his, sliding into a chair next to Taehyung and reaching over to give Namjoon's arm an affectionate squeeze. It seems that all the members have turned up, save Seokjin, who's been a taken man three years strong.

     You fall into easy conversation with the boys, and just when your difference of opinion with Namjoon over Lee Bul's latest installation piece is developing into a full-blown debate, Jimin slides up to the table and spills onto Taehyung's lap.

     "None of you are dancing!" He whines breathlessly, poking Tae's cheek as the other man smiles shyly.

     "Jungkook is," Yoongi rebuts, taking another bite of jjajangmyeon.

     He's not wrong, though to your amusement, the maknae appears to be getting danced on more than anything else.

    "Where's Hobi hyung?" Tae queries, prodding gently at Jimin's full cheek in return.

     Jimin's eyes dart to you, a smirk spreading slowly across his lips as his gaze rakes up from your heels to the choker around your neck.

     "Good question," he hums, rising to take your hand and pull you up from your seat. "Let's go find him."

     Jimin heads for the French doors at the far end of space that lead onto the terrace. They're propped open, and cool evening air floods the apartment, keeping the atmosphere from suffocating under the warmth of body heat and the scent of rich food.

     "Jimin!" You hiss, as you approach the rooftop patio, "What are you doing? This is the opposite of subtle!"

    He laughs merrily.

     "You're so cute when you're flustered!"

     You don't have any more time to grumble as you emerge under the darkening sky, just beginning to speckle with stars barely visible against the glow of string lights wrapped around the cozy outdoor enclosure. There's a small electric fire pit surrounded by plush patio furniture, and live greenery all around.

     The energy is much more relaxed than within, but even so, you feel your pulse quicken as Jimin guides you toward a small group at the corner of the terrace. You recognize a few of the men and women gathered as industry producers, but none of that really matters because all your brain can register is him.

     And holy shit does he look good.

     He's arresting sophistication and effortless elegance. A silk charcoal dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, ripples along the lines of his torso - save where the top three buttons have been neglected to expose the smooth planes of his toned chest. His lean, athletic legs seem even longer than usual in fitted black slacks, his pretty wrists and fingers sparkling with jewelry where his thumbs are slipped into his pockets. His hair has been slicked back from his face, and his eyes are just barely obscured by a pair of lightly tinted wire-rimmed aviators. That brilliant, warm heart-shaped smile cuts through all the sharp darkness of his garb, and your breath catches in your chest when Jimin calls out to him.

     "Hyung!"

     As Hoseok's eyes meet yours the grin stretched across his face falters, but he quickly regains composure.

     "Eyyy," he greets you, striding forward and wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you into a side hug. Of course he smells as incredible as he looks.

     "Hi, Hobi," you murmur a bit shyly, returning his embrace.

     "Hyung," Jimin pouts cutely, "Save us! She was putting our guests to sleep talking to Namjoon-ah about art theory."

     "Hey," Hobi chides in a warning tone, cocking his head to the side to glance down at you. "Don't enable the poor guy – he needs to get laid."

     "Well nobody is going to approach him if she's hanging around looking like that." Jimin gestures casually, a mischievous twinkle glinting for a moment his eye.

     Hobi's arm slips off your shoulders to grasp your hand as he steps back. He's never been good at keeping his feelings from his face, and the look trained on his features as he appraises you has you thinking you made the right decision when you put on that dress.

     "How about we keep you out of trouble and on the dance floor, hm?" Hobi says with a sly smile, raising your hand and tilting forward in a posture of invitation.

     You roll your eyes playfully, unable to bite back a smile of your own as you motion for Hobi to lead the way, careful to avoid Jimin's eyes as you let the rapper guide you back into the thrumming pulse of the festivities.

      He gently pulls you onto the dance floor and tugs you into him, keeping a hold on your right hand as he slips the other just below the curve of your waist. You settle into an easy step to the lively beat. Hobi's eyes search your face as you tilt it up to him, running a hand up his chest to adjust the collar of his shirt with a sigh. You fiddle with the soft fabric between your fingers.   

     "I'm sorry, Hobi," you murmur, just loudly enough for him to hear.

     When he just smiles a bit sadly you feel your heart squeeze and you drop your head to his chest. You will yourself not to cry as he slows his movements, slipping a knuckle beneath your chin to raise your gaze to his own.     

     "Hajima," he protests, "Let's talk later. Right now, how about we just have some fun? I missed you."

     His expression is sweet and earnest and you feel like your chest might not have room for anything more than your complete and utter affection for this man. 

     "I missed you too," you admit with a little grin, pressing yourself against him just a bit more firmly and gazing up at him through widened eyes. He blinks for a moment, and then suddenly, there it is again, blooming across his lips - that blinding gorgeous smile, and that heady, infectious laugh.

     In one quick motion, he spins you around to face away from him as the music drops to a deep, throbbing EDM number, his fingertips grazing your hips and his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

     "You did, huh?" he purrs. "Alright, then...show me how much." 

     You suck in a breath because you don't ever think you'll be ready for how quickly he can turn that dark, deep voice in his chest into something that makes you feel like you're astral-projecting. Your first instinct is to push him away, make him take it from you...but this moment isn't for that. After your exit last time around, you’re determined to make him so incredibly certain that you want him. That you need him. 

     You lean back into him and, whispering a silent prayer of gratitude to the goddess of stilettos, press your ass firmly into his groin. You feel the air leave his lips in a hiss against your neck, and his hands slide to squeeze your hips and tug your body even deeper into his. You grind back against him as your body undulates with the hypnotic rhythm of the beat, but it's not long before he's taken over guiding the motion of your hips to match the rolls of his own. 

     Your eyelids flutter. You've never been this close to him. Sure, in the studio, things had gotten hot and heavy - but you had only been in his hands. He had only touched you to move you, still you, punish you. Now you are flush against his body, and everywhere you touch as he rocks you in tortuous waves against him tastes like the first sumptuous bite of a forbidden fruit. 

You can feel him beginning to swell against the plush of your ass, but even that isn't what has a familiar ache throbbing at the apex of your thighs – it's the effortlessness with which he wrests control of your body, your mind...your very being down to its most primal core.

     Hoseok's hand skids up your side and slips over your collarbones.

     "I like this necklace," he mumbles into your hair.

     You turn in his arms, slipping your fingers around the back of his neck as you raise your lips to his ear.

     "I'm disappointed in you, Hoseok," you tut, "It's not a necklace, you know." 

     He doesn't respond, but focuses on bringing his leg to slot between yours, hiking your dress up enough to tease your mound with brushes over the front of his thigh. You swallow a moan.

He's toying with you, but you won't give in. Not so easily. Not yet.

     "I guess you could call it a choker..." you rasp, trying to keep the tremor from your voice as your face presses into the side of his jaw, "That is more descriptive of its actual purpose, I suppose."

     For one millisecond in the fabric of time and space you feel his pace falter as the words spill from your lips - then he runs his hand up your back, slipping two fingers under the tight strip of velvet surrounding your throat.

     For the first time since you started dancing, you look at him. Crystalline beads of sweat have broken out on his brow, and his mouth is set in a stern line, his eyes hooded and dark as tugs his fingers back to command a view of your gaze.

     "Are you telling me," he grits out lowly, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hip so bruisingly you gasp, "...that you showed up to my party wearing a fucking collar?" 

     You don't answer him - instead you let a wicked smile slip over your lips, refusing defiantly to drop his piercing stare. He has stopped moving you against him, stopped moving entirely. His hands are firm but still where they hold you as his eyes bore down.

     "Are you out here trying to finish what we started?"

     You tilt your head back, narrowing your eyes seductively.

     "What do you think?"

     You watch a thousand and one thoughts race through Hoseok's mind as his eyes drop to your neck again and he swallows thickly.

     "Oh, fuck it," he hisses, turning and catching your hand to pull you impatiently through the crowd. 

     You barely have time to wonder what he's thinking or where you're headed when, at the opening to the hall, he spins to grasp your waist and tuck you into a small alcove. He does it so quickly and with such force that you nearly topple the potted plant on the stand beside you.

     He pushes himself against you, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and his firm body pressing you to the wall. He holds your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of your body. You let out a tiny whimper.

     His peppermint breath fans over your cheeks.

     "I was going to wait," he whispers loud enough for you to hear him clearly over the music from the room behind you. "I was going to ask you...to stay. After..." he traces his nose along the ridge of your cheekbone as he squeezes your wrists tightly, his nails nipping into your skin. "But you come here with the audacity to tease me like that? Out there, in front of everyone like a desperate little slut?" 

     His mouth is hovering over your ear as he speaks, sending shivers cascading down your spine.

     "I'm not a patient man," he mutters darkly, and you feel your pussy throb.

     You struggle slightly against his grasp, and he growls lowly. Turning into him, you press your mouth against his throat, letting your teeth graze his skin as you respond.

     "Then don't be."

     It's all the permission he needs. He snatches you away from the wall, dragging you down the hall toward the master bedroom at the far end. Your heartbeat hammers in your chest as you gaze at the dark mahogany door growing closer and closer with every stumbled step you take to match his hurried pace.

     He turns to glance over his shoulder, and you follow the action as he grips the handle, turns it, and...

     "What the..." Hoseok mutters, rattling the handle forcefully before raising his fist to pound against the door. "YAH! UNLOCK THIS DOOR!" He booms. 

     You hear muted voices and sounds of scurried movement from within. He bangs again and again until the door swishes open to reveal a flushed and flustered Jungkook, still fumbling with the button of his jeans.

     "Hyung! S-sorry, hyung, I was just...we were..."

     "OUT." Hoseok demands icily, pushing the door inward on its hinges to reveal the peppy, strawberry-scented young woman from before hurrying forward to tuck herself behind Jungkook as she draws a hand across her smeared lipstick. 

You bite back a grin as you watch them scuttle down the hall before Hoseok shuts and locks the door behind you.

     "That kid...seriously," he grumbles. "He knows my room is off limits."

     You chuckle, despite his lack of amusement, and he takes your hand again, drawing you toward a small couch at the far side of the large room. You take in your surroundings as you cross the space - similarly furnished to the rest of the apartment. The furniture is sleek and modern, Kaws sculptures and collectible figurines occupy tables and shelves. There are a few live plants, including one hanging from a large hook in the ceiling near a massive, raised canopy bed.

     He draws you to sit beside him, a crease still pinched between his brows, likely from having to evict the irksome intruders. You laugh softly and run a thumb over his forehead.

     "They're gone!" you chuckle, "Don't let it bother you so much. You'll get wrinkles." You tease, and his face softens.

     He catches your hand in both of his as it lowers. He sighs.

     "I needed a bit of water thrown in my face anyway," he smirks, and you glance down bashfully. "Before anything really happens, I think we should have…a conversation." 

     You nod in agreement.

     "Can I start?" you interject and he nods in return.

     You huff out a long breath.

     "I want to apologize for how I reacted...last time."

     He smiles wryly.

     "It was all very new and sudden to me, and...I don't know...I freaked out."

     Hobi squeezes your hand.

     "You have no reason to be sorry about that. I should have never initiated like that somewhere that wasn't really private. I just got caught up..." he shakes his head.

     "No! Me too! I'm glad it happened. I..." you trail off, feeling your face heat. "Oh, fuck, I don't know how to say this..."

     He claims he's not a patient man, but he waits, watching with tender eyes as you choose your words.

     "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it...like..." you take a deep breath as you gather the courage for vulnerable transparency.

     You remember what Jimin said. It's Hobi. You are safe with Hobi.

     "It was like nothing I've ever felt before. Like a release...more than sexual, you know? Like, freedom. Like, I felt so alive."

     He smiles, nodding his head in understanding.

     "I..." you continue, still nervous but with mounting confidence as he makes you feel heard, "I would like to...explore this part of myself, this new world," you gesture, "And...well, I would love for you to be the one to guide me."

     You raise your gaze to his. His eyes are shimmering. He slowly raises a hand and brushes his fingers over your cheek.

     "It would be my honor," he murmurs earnestly.

     A smile blooms across your face and your chest fills with warmth. You raise your hand, curling your fingers into his where they rest against your jaw. He drops your hands, still holding on, to his knee.

     "Can I ask how much you know about the community?" he queries, tracing his thumb softly over your knuckles.

     "A lot more now than I did a couple of weeks ago!" you respond with a laugh. "I know that I'm a sub, but one that likes to...fight back a little bit?"

     Hobi smirks, pocketing his tongue in his cheek. His eyes glint.

     "A brat," he answers. 

     "...Yeah."

     "Want me to work for it."

     Your mouth quirks up in a grin.

     "The harder the challenge the bigger the payoff," he hums, glancing thoughtfully down at your joined hands.

     "I think," he says after a pause, "Since you're new to all this, we should start slow. I already know some things you enjoy, and vice versa. But part of this kind of thing is about testing your limits. You're going to come across things you don't like, too. I need you to be able to tell me. Without a second thought. Seriously."

     He looks at you intently.

     You smile.

     "I trust you enough to know that you’d stop if that’s what I wanted. I may enjoy being dominated but I do still know what I want. And with you...I..." You tug at his hand, "I know I could say what I...need.”

     He huffs out a little breath, his brows drawing together as he regards you in reverence.

     "You know you can be that way with me too, right? Needy?" You ask softly. "I want...to take care of you, that way. Maybe we can...take care of each other." 

     You're not looking at him. You can't. It's all incredibly intimate and strange. When he doesn't respond, you begin to wonder if you said something you shouldn't have. And then your doubts vanish as quickly as they had appeared when you feel his arm slip around your shoulders as he pulls you into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin.

     Your heart sings.

     After a long, quiet moment, Hobi pulls back to look at you. 

     "Should we set some rules for ourselves?" he asks.

     You purse your lips and nod. Admittedly, you had come with a few in mind.

     "I think...we shouldn't kiss. Well, not on the mouth. It's...I don't know. I think it might make things confusing."

     Hobi looks thoughtful, nodding slowly.

     "Which brings me to my other thought," you chew your lip. "I think this should just be about sex. We're friends, and I want to keep that aspect of our relationship strong and uncompromised."

     He smiles. 

     "Makes sense to me. But..." he says with a raise of his brows, "If we do start seeing other people, I think we should tell each other. Especially if they're going to be people we're fooling around with."

     You give an enthusiastic hum of assent.

“I don’t have a partner at the moment,” you shake your head, glancing up at him.

“Me neither.”

He clears his throat and shifts his stance.

“When we’re…together,” he gestures in the space between you. “What about protection?”

You blink thoughtfully.

“I’m on birth control.”

He nods.

“Okay…would you want me to wear a condom?”

You feel heat creep up your neck as you meet his gaze with a shake of your head.

“Not unless you wanted you.”

He stares at you for a long moment before chuckling and shaking his own head.

“Ay, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

     "Oh! And we already have a safeword!” you remind him with a grin.

     "We do," he acknowledges, his eyes dropping to the glinting metallic ring adorning your throat.

     Your smile falters and your heartbeat quickens…and when he looks back up at you it's like whiplash as he sets you reeling again with a dark, hungry gaze.

     "If that thing isn't a necklace," he rasps, reaching his fingers up to touch the cold silver, "How about we put it to its proper use, hm?" 

     You shiver, pressing your thighs together as your heartbeat drops to your clit.

     "Yeah..." you whisper, your breath already starting to come quicker as you reach for your bag and fumble with trembling fingers with the clasp. 

     Hoseok's brow knits as he watches you open the purse, reaching in to produce a length of light chain about three feet long with a velvet strap on one and a claw clasp on the other. You double it up and dangle it from your hand, your heart thrumming in your chest as you raise your eyes to his.

     "You can put it on me," you purr, "...But you'll have to take it from me first."

     Click.

     That ineffable thing, that invisible force he wields that arrests you has slipped back into place. You can feel it, pouring off him in devastating waves...and you're already starting to drown.

     It didn't take him long to wrestle the leash from your grasp. Now you're on your knees before him, hands at your sides as he leans forward to affix the chain to the o-ring at your neck. You're breathing hard from your struggle. He stands to his full height, wrapping the links around his hand until the line is taught. He clicks his tongue condescendingly.

    "What am I going to do with you now, hm?" he murmurs, tugging at the chain briefly so that you lurch slightly forward. You whine complaintively.

     "Quiet," he hisses in warning. 

     You bite your lip. You need to obey now. Your panties are soaked and you can feel the turgid swell of your clit with every slight motion of your body. If you are good for him, then maybe you will be rewarded. Being a good girl should earn something. Right now, you will take anything.

     Hoseok glowers down at you, tilting his head to the side as his eyes trail over your features, coming to rest on your pouted lips. He wets his own.

     "You like to run that mouth of yours...how about we see what else it can do?"

     Holy fucking shit. You feel saliva begin to pool under your tongue, your eyes flicking down to the bulge at the front of his slacks. You start to raise your hands toward his belt but he yanks sharply upward on the chain, the metal ring biting into the underside of your jaw, ripping a mewl of discomfort and impatience from your lips.

     He lets out a long sigh, shaking his head as his lips curve into a cruel smile.

     "So eager that she can't even wait for permission?"

     You whimper again, biting your lip as he laughs darkly above you.

     "My little whore wants something, doesn't she?"

     You give a silent nod, letting your tongue slip out to wet your lips and watch his eyes darken as his pupils swallow his deep brown irises.

     "Mmm..." He hums in consideration, bringing his free hand to cradle your chin. "I've told you before, sweet thing, if you want something, you have to ask for it."

     Your eyes blink languidly as you look up at him. Your head is swimming as you sway on your knees, the dizzy helplessness of being spun between degradation and endearment hanging over you like a heavy trance. His fingers tighten around your jaw.

     "Come on..." he coaxes in a chilly whisper, "Use that pretty mouth to ask Hoseok."

     You swallow thickly.

    "Wan..." you start softly, but his grip on your jaw sharpens.

     "Speak up, I can't hear you," he commands reproachfully.

     Heat swells up from your neck and sweat begins to tickle your hairline. You know what you want, you've been thinking about little else since he was pressed against you on the dance floor...but the thought of giving your filthy, aching desires shape has every inch of your body trembling.

    "Wan...want..." you struggle over his fingers pressing harshly into your cheeks. 

     He tuts, and the look on his stony features suddenly warns you that if you don't overcome your nerves...

     "Wan' your cock!" you choke out desperately.

     Hoseok's lids dip slowly and his lips part, as if your words have been injected into his veins, and you think you could fucking cum at the sight. His eyes flutter open again and he gazes down. You fight for patience and composure with each maddening second of silence that passes. You can feel your pussy clench and your hands follow suit. Hoseok catches the motion. A sickening grin spreads over his lips.

     "Want this cock, hm?" he hums, releasing your chin from his grasp to palm over the clothed swell inches from your lips.

     You whimper pathetically, letting your eyes slip shut. Fuck you want him. You want your mouth around him. You want to choke on him. You want the thick, sticky milk of his release on your tongue.

     "So tell me, brat," he hisses, wrapping another loop of chain around his palm so that he holds you on a mere few inches of leash. "How do you want my cock?"

     Any shame has been dispelled from your being in the presence of your burning desire, and you raise heavy, lustful eyes to his dark ones.

     "Wanna suck it off."

     You can see his chest beginning to rise and fall with more effort as he pulls you by the leash, in tortuously slow deliberation, until your lips are ghosting over the zipper of his slacks. He glares down at you, the corner of his mouth curling up in a sneer as he holds you in place.

     "BEG."

     A violent tremor of arousal jolts through your abdomen and you gasp.

    "P-please..." you stammer dumbly against the soft, dark cotton.

     "Again."

     "Please..."

     "Please, what?" 

     "Please..." you breath shakily, "Will you fuck my mouth?"

     You feel him twitch under the vibration of your supplicating words. 

     "Alright," he relents in a rasp, "But keep those hands at your sides, understand?”

You nod.

“Unless,” he tugs at the chain again,”You need to stop. Then you grab my leg and squeeze.”

“Okay.”

“What are you going to do, baby? If you need me to stop?”

“Squeeze your leg.”

“That’s right,” he hums and the repeated instruction.

     You chew on your lip as he pulls off his belt and slips open the button, giving a tug at your collar. As you look up at his hooded eyes, you know exactly what to do.

     You nose at the seam, trying for one moment to ignore the throbbing bulge against your cheek as you find the zipper with your teeth and drag it slowly downward, your eyes never breaking his burning gaze. 

     "Good girl," he hisses, pushing his pants down his hips to reveal a pair of tight, black boxer briefs, a sizable strain pulling at the flexible fabric where he's hard beneath them.

He hooks two thumbs into the elastic and tugs down, his fully erect cock springing free to bob against the side of your face. A sticky streak of precum smears across your cheek as you seek his head with your lips, barely having time to register the smooth tip, or the pretty, pulsating veins as you rush to swallow him whole.

    Hoseok lets out a long, deep groan as you suckle greedily around him. Allowing your spit to slick his shaft you pull back, keeping just the crown between your lips as you worry your tongue along his dripping slit.

     He's rock hard and heavy on your tongue as you lean in to take him farther down your throat, bunching your hands into your dress at the aching urge to cup and stroke the velvet skin of his scrotum.

     "Fuck," he grits out from between clenched teeth, "That's right..."

     You bob lower and lower on his shaft, seeking to take as much of him as you are able. When you feel his tip brush the back of your throat, you moan around him. His free hand flies into your hair, and suddenly he's yanking you off of him. You cough and splutter at the sudden motion and he tugs the chain so that you raise watery eyes to him. He releases your hair to absently stroke himself as he lightly pants over you.

     "Asked me to fuck that throat. Think you can take it?"

     You nod as you attempt to wipe drool pooling on your chin into your shoulder.

     "Words," he pushes, snapping the chain around his wrist.

     "Yeah," you mock, matching his tone, a spark of defiance reigniting inside you.

     Hoseok lets out a hollow laugh.

     "So confident. We'll see about that."

     He slips two fingers of his free hand into the strap of your collar and tugs you back toward his cock. You open wide, extending your tongue to catch the head and pull him between your lips.

You move to swallow him again, but he halts you.

     "Keep still," he mutters coldly, and the fingers at your collar hold you tightly in place as he slowly slides his hips forward in a thrust that has him inching toward your soft palate.

Your eyes water, but you have never been more determined to fight your gag reflex as he pulls back and pushes in again, deeper, his cock tapping again at the back of your throat.

     "Goddamn, you really can take it," he groans in a shaky voice. "Such a good little slut for Hoseok. Such a pretty, filthy little mouth."

     Your nostrils flare as you draw air through your nose, and you swallow, the muscle of your throat contracting tightly around him. At this he seems to break, suddenly pulling back his hips to snap them forward as he sets a rough, self-indulgent pace.

     Your eyes water, spilling over from the brutal stretch and sting, but you dig your fingers into your thighs, determined to take him as long as you possibly can.

     You start to feel light-headed, and just when you think you're going to have to tap out for air, Hoseok's pulling you off of him and wrenching your face upwards to run his wild eyes over it.

    You gasp for breath a moment, and then you're opening your mouth to him again, blinking up through bleary eyes in a silent, hungry plea. He shakes his head slowly as he gazes down at you, chest heaving.

     "Shit, look at you..."

     You're a site. Tears and mascara streak your cheeks, saliva and precum slick your chin and neck, your parted lips swollen. Hoseok's fingers twist where they're still hooked into the collar. 

     "You still want it, don't you? My god..." he smears the tip of his cock along your bottom lip.

Your eager tongue wriggles forward to brush over him again. He swallows, and with a growl he slaps his cock down harshly over it. You let out a little sob as your soaking, aching cunt clenches around nothing. 

     "Alright," he mutters in a husky whisper, "Gonna fucking ruin that tight little throat. Gonna fill it the fuck up. Blow my load all over that nasty little tongue. And you want that, don't you? Wanna be Hoseok's pretty little cumslut, hm?" 

     You nod, and then remember the rules.

     "Yes," you croak, and open wide for him again.

     He grits his teeth and tugs at the collar to pull you slowly over him again with a shudder. You've proven more than capable and it's not long before he's chasing release at a punishing pace. It's sloppy and desperate - the hollow, wet sounds as he fucks your face a pornographic symphony. 

Suddenly you think you can feel his cock twitch and jerk as it hammers into your mouth, and when he grows so incredibly hard, you know he's about to reach his peak.

     You lock eyes with him through your tears, watching his features strain to maintain their composure. Without warning he grabs the back of your head and slams into you, arching over as he cries out.

     And he cums.

     Thick ropes spurt down your throat as he quivers and throbs.

     The moment he's spent his last drop of release he fists into your hair and roughly pulls you back, letting his softening cock fall free. You gasp for breath, coughing as you choke down the last remnants of his seed. Lips trembling, your eyes search his face for what you so desperately need...and you find it.

     His lids are heavy over his eyes, mere glistening slips of midnight visible as they gleam down at you; his beautiful lips are parted as he pants, the honey planes of chest glistening with sweat where his shirt fails to obscure it.

     He's breathless and sated and glorious, and you bask under the intensity of his gaze. He releases his hold on your collar and lets the leash clatter to the ground, bringing his hands to your face. He cups your cheeks, brushing his thumbs over the streaks of tears.

     "So, fucking good for me," he mutters shakily, his brow drawn, "Such a pretty, perfect little brat." 

     Your eyes slip shut under his words of praise. You could move mountains if he asked you to, you were certain. In this moment, in this space, anything for this man. Everything.   

     You feel his hands leave your face as he moves to help you stand, before tugging his briefs back into place. 

The heat of the moment past, you become acutely aware of the stinging soreness in your knees as you struggle to your feet – and the sticky ache of persistent hunger throbbing between your thighs. You teeter on your heels as blood rushes to your lower legs.

Smiling, he reaches out and pulls you to him gently by the waist, swiping a thumb over your chin.

     "You were a good girl, baby. So, so good," He coos in a husky whisper. "You remember what good girls get, hm?" He's still calling the shots and demanding answers, but his eyes are soft as they regard you.

     "A reward?" you answer hopefully.

     He hums in assent.

     "That's right, baby. That's right," He brushes at the smeared makeup under your eye. "But let's get that messy little face cleaned up first." 

     After unfastening your collar he sits you down on the bed, bringing makeup wipes to gently dab away the proof of your efforts, and offers you a bottle of cool water. He comes to sit beside you, eyes tracking you attentively as you drink.

     "Want Hoseok to take care of that needy little pussy?" he asks, with a smirk.

     "Fuck yes," you breath as you lower the bottle from your mouth.

     He arches a brow, and you purse your lips in an attempt not to grin.

     "Please," you add in correction.

     "Mmm," he acknowledges thoughtfully, turning to gaze over his shoulder at the spider plant hanging from the ceiling a few feet past the other side of the bed.

     "Does my little girl want to try something new?" he asks, his eyes still on the suspended planter.

     You feel your pulse quicken and stomach twist in anticipation.

     "Yes, Hoseok, I trust you," you respond without reserve.

     He flicks his eyes to your face, brows drawing together. He wets his lips and huffs out a breathy laugh.

     "You have no goddamned idea what you do to me when you say shit like that."

     You look away, smiling brightly as you preen under the heat and affection of his gaze.

     He reaches for your hand and guides you to rise to your feet.

     "Alright, ditch the dress," he orders, gesturing with a flick of his chin as he leans back on his hands and spreads his thighs in a posture of recline.

     You step back to give yourself space, already weak in the knees at the prospect of stripping for him. You steel your composure, a spark of boldness lighting in your belly. Taking a few steps away and turning from him, you look back over your shoulder to watch his face as you reach behind to slowly drag the zipper down your back. You make a slow, sensual show of peeling the garment from your body to reveal a lacy black balconette bra and matching thong. Stepping out of the dress and tossing it away, in nothing but your lingerie and stilettos, you stride back to stand patiently before him.

     He leans forward and runs his hands up the sides of your thighs until they reach your hips where they slide back to squeeze the meat of your ass.

You bring your hands gingerly to his shoulders. 

Tugging your body toward him, he draws himself to the edge of the mattress, pulling you between his thighs as he uses his sharp, white teeth to nip along the soft flesh of your belly. He sucks harshly at some places, leaving flushed little souvenirs of claim in his wake. You don't hold back the proof of your pleasure - repaying his ministrations with gasps and low moans as his hands and mouth explore you.

     Hoseok raises his face from your skin, his pupils wide as his gaze settles at your breasts. 

"Bra off," he commands, squeezing your ass again as you reach back to unfasten the clasp and pull the straps from your arms.

     He hisses and grits his teeth, raising greedy hands to knead at your supple flesh, before pulling them away to twist and slap at your nipples. 

You groan and throw your head back, relishing in the shocks of sensation – gushing, as if you could ruin your soaked panties any further. As you press your trembling thighs together he glances down at the last remaining vestige of your modesty, lips spreading into a wicked grin.

     "You know I can fucking smell it - how wet you are? My god, want you to wear it like a perfume, fuck..." He runs his right hand to rub against the dampness that has the lace clinging to your slit.

     The moan you let out is so needy it's practically a sob. Hoseok laughs low in his chest.

     Suddenly he’s standing and spinning you around, leading you to the end of the bed. He places your hands on the footboard and instructs you to bend over, sliding your hips back until your ass is on full display. He runs his hands over the bare flesh of your cheeks.

    "Now," he growls, "Can't fuck this ass until it's properly marked, can we?"

     You swallow and let out a whine. The blood is already rushing to your head in a familiar surge and in the split second of silence before impact, you know what's coming - the anticipation somehow even more intoxicating when you remember how it feels when he...

     Smack!

     You whimper, your fingers gripping the bed frame as he delivers blow after searing blow. When he has satisfied himself with the flushed tone streaking the globes of your ass, he gives it a final squeeze, commanding you to wait where you are.

     You hear him as he moves to the side of the bed to pull an object from beneath it. He seems to be grappling with something - the clink of metal and soft rustle of leather interrupting the sudden heavy hush. He returns to your side, taking your hands from the bed and bringing you to stand. As he leads you to the far side of the bed, you see it: hanging from the large hook in the ceiling that once bore the spider plant there is a large leather contraption. You've never seen one in real life, but you know what it is.

     "You have a sex swing?" you murmur in awe, momentarily forgetting yourself as you reach out to brush your fingers over the soft leather. There are buckle straps at different places and a metal bar running across the top. He lightly grips your waist, turning you to face him again. He dips his head forward and you inhale the cool mint of his breath.

     "Gonna put you in it," he murmurs, "You remember our word, right?"

     "Yes," you breathe.

“Say it.”

“Foxglove.”

He smirks.

     "Good girl. Panties off," he instructs.

     You couldn't be more eager to pull the sopping fabric down your legs and toss it aside, but when you reach to remove your shoes, he catches your wrist.

     "I didn't say you could take those off, did I?" he reprimands, and your pulse begins to hammer in your throat.

     He’s gonna fucking strap you to this thing in your goddamned heels.

     You comply with him as he helps you into the seat, fastening your wrists together to a strap that has them raised above your head. After securing your hands, he raises your legs, carefully stretching them so that your feet are on the outside of the wide set cables, hooking your heels to catch on the bar across the top to hold your legs, spread wide, in place. With each restriction he checks in, making sure you’re completely comfortable with his choices. 

When he finishes he comes to stand before you, heaving out a sigh through his nose as he trails a hand down the back of your thigh.

     "Look at you," he groans as his eyes rake over your body.

     You can feel your pussy leaking. Your heart pounds. The muscles in your legs strain a bit from the stretch and the bindings nip into your wrists and feet. You are completely exposed to him...and it is utter perfection. Like you were made to be at his mercy. You blink up at him through the fuzzy haze that keeps intensifying as you relinquish yourself deeper and deeper into his control.

     His eyes slip shut for a moment and he gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head before bringing his lips to graze against the back of your calf.

     "Hoseok..." you whisper, trembling. 

     His eyes open and lock with yours. You hold each other's gaze in silence. 

Nothing needs to be said - you both know. You both understand.

     He unbuttons his shirt and slips it off, and after discarding his briefs he is as naked as you are. With one hand he grips your leg, slipping two fingers of the other to slide through the swollen, sticky folds of your cunt. You cry out, your pelvis shuddering - so ripe to be touched that the contact sends a shock like an electric pulse through your being. 

     "What a pretty fucking pussy...so desperate for me," he mutters.

     You watch his beautiful fingers as they slip through your glistening lips and over your throbbing clit before he pulls his hand up. He lets it hover in the air for a moment before bringing it down with a harsh smack against your mound. 

A scream strangles in your throat as he repeats the motion again. Your whole body shakes with arousal. 

He clenches his jaw as he trails his fingers down to your aching hole, dipping in shallowly to gather your bountiful slick. He raises his fingers to his lips, tasting you as he watches you tremble beneath him. He withdraws them with a pop.

     "You know how much you like that? Getting this little cunt slapped?" His eyes trail down. "You're dripping down your fucking ass."

     Shuddering violently, you whimper, tugging impatiently at your restraints.

     "Yah," he warns, and you still. "Guess you're ready for me, huh? Just like that day..." He smirks condescendingly. "You're always ready, aren't you?" He hisses. "Need me so fucking badly...all of the time."

     You sob as your walls contract again and again. He takes his cock into his hand and slides it through your folds, teasing the tip over your clit.

     It's euphoric, but it's not enough. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you fight your own desperate need until the copper taste of blood seeps across your tongue. Somehow, it doesn't even hurt – you can't feel anything past the need for him to fill you. You feel his tip prod your entrance and you gasp.

     “Look at me," he rasps.

     Your eyes snap open. Your legs are shaking, vibrating the entire apparatus as he finally, slowly, sinks into your wet heat. The stretch of him is exquisite, and your eyes roll back in your head as he groans, steadily pulling back to push into you again.

“Shiiiiiitttt…” he hisses through his teeth, “Fucking made for me. Does my little brat like that? Hoseok’s cock stuffing that tight little cunt?”

“M-more…p-please…” you mewl, nearly unable to even form the words as his ridges drag deliciously along your taught walls.

     You're so incredibly worked up that already you can feel a climax building in your belly, and he's only just started to fuck you. Unable to touch him any other way, you squeeze around him tightly.

     He lets out a grunt, picking up his pace as he uses the mobility of the swing to pound you onto his cock. 

You cry out, your head rattling against the leather as stroke after stroke sends you hurtling toward your high. Your mouth hangs open, and your vision begins to blur at the edges, the position of your arms making it harder to breathe. It’s going put you over the edge. He catches your glazed stare.

     "Don't you fucking cum until I say," he grits out breathlessly, and you let out a wail, head falling back. 

     You can feel yourself barely holding on as he slams into you, teetering on the edge as you hear his voice.

     "Whose little whore are you?"

     You try to speak but the words won't rattle out of your chest.

     "Whose?" he booms.

     "Yours!" you press out in a sob.

     "Who do you kneel for?"

     "You!" 

     "Who owns this pussy?"

     "Y-you!"

     "And who the fuck am I?"

     "HOSEOK!"

     "Cum, slut." he growls.

...And you free-fall through time and space.

     The summer evening air is warm against your skin as you step out under the rose gold twilight. Behind you the chic dining venue is still abustle, and you wave coworkers a fond farewell as they head off to continue the evening with karaoke. It's been a big day for you, and there's someone you've been waiting to talk to.

     You press the green call button and wait as the line rings.

     "Yeoboseyo?" 

     The warm voice on the other end has a smile blooming on your lips.

     "Hey, Hobi-ssi!" you hum.

     "Hey hey!" he chrips, "What's up?"

     "Oh, nothing," you respond casually, "Just got done with a company dinner. Someone got a promotion, so we all went out."

     There's a pause on the other end.

     "Oh," answers slowly, "That one you put in for?"

     "Mhm."

     You hear him scoff in amusement

     "Well, at least you seem to be taking it well."

     "I'd say I'm taking it extremely well, which is only natural, considering I got the job."

     "Yes, well...wait, YOU WHAT?!"

     You pull the phone momentarily away from your ear as his joyful, raucous laughter blasts through the speaker.

     "You're gonna make me go deaf!" You chide. Your smile is brighter than the setting sun.

     "I'm so proud of you."

     "Thanks, Hobi."

     "You should celebrate!"

     "I did go out with my work friends...but..."

    "You should come over," he interjects.

  The register of his voice has changed. You recognize the new one.

     "Yeah?" you swallow, as your heart rate quickens. "Well...what if I do want to go to karaoke?"

     You wait for his response, watching your ride share pull up to the curb.

     "Yah - you gonna be a good girl…”

     You hold your breath.

     “...Or do I have to make you?"

-FIN-

#hoseok fic #oneshot #bts oneshot #hoseok smut #hoseok imagine #hobi x reader #hobi smut #hobi x y/n #jhope smut #jhope fanfic #jhope x reader #jhope x you #jhope x y/n #jhope imagine #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #fic: make me

[sparkledfirecracker]

Guilty Pleasure

Request: Andy fucking his sister in law while Laurie is out of town for a week.

Word count: 5262

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cheating but not really, spanking, fingering, penetrative sex, sibling rivalry, semi-bullying by a sibling, mention of re-marrying, porn without a real plot. If I missed any, let me know.

A/N: This contains cheating, do not read or interact if you're sensitive to familial betrayal. Jacob does not exist in this story. Anything you read is fictional and not based on actual events. This is not beta’d. Happy 2023, nonnie! May it be a great filthy and panty-wetting season. Tumblr ate your ask and I’ve tried to post this 3 times now. Hopefully this meets your expectations and thank you for dropping off the request (I’m sorry it took me so long) 😘. Enjoy!

I do not give permission to repost, publish or use any of my stories, that counts for media entertainment too. Reblogging, liking, commenting and ghost reading on the other hand is all allowed.

By clicking ‘keep reading’ or ‘read more’ you agree to be 18 or older.

Your relationship with your sister had never been loving, it always contained rivalry. Having wanted to curse your father for remarrying. Laurie was always being picked as the favourite in your eyes.

That is why it had surprised you the minute she had asked you to check in on her husband. Stating she was going to be out of town for the week. As a good sister you had agreed to her request, it also came in handy that you enjoyed spending time with Andy. He was generally nice and on top of that, good company.

Since you both worked together at the district attorney’s office, it immediately eased the awkwardness. With a slip of the tongue, you had offended Andy during lunch. Stating that you never had seen ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. Andy practically had demanded you to come over for dinner and watch the film together.

As the day came to an end. You had declined his offer to give you a ride as you still had some errands to run for Neil. Andy had huffed at the mention of his name. Muttering that Neil hadn’t been worth all the extra hours so that he could get praise for the work you had done.

It had been almost two hours later than initially planned. “Andy, I’m home.” You yelled excitedly through the house as you stepped through the front door.

His muscular frame appeared in the opened-up arch of the kitchen. With a wide smirk, he placed his hands on his hips and scanned you from head to toe. A comforting warmth wrapped around you like a blanket preventing the cold from creeping in.

You weren’t prepared for the intrusive thoughts to flood back the way they did. Laurie had won the bet between you both all those years ago. It wasn’t so much a bet, it was more a way to give you stick for not going after what you desired. Your heart shattered the moment she told you she started to develop feelings for Andy.

Seeing Andy like this made all the old feelings resurface. The doting husband waiting for his partner to come home. A soft yearning for his touch or those lingering eye contact moments. Mentally rolling your eyes when you looked straight at his wedding ring. Wanting to curse yourself for having allowed their relationship to go on this way.

Their marriage was based on a lie. Laurie didn’t love him the way you did, all this yearning had stopped the moment they said “I do”. Only to find out now that those feelings never had been gone. Just stuffed and locked in an imaginary filing cabinet.

Insufferable reminders of what could’ve been clouding your head. That’s where Laurie thrived, your discomfort. And it had become her running joke, teasing you for fawning over the man that she fucked at night.

“I hope you like pizza,” Andy let out a heavy sigh, “I’ve ruined the pasta.” He confessed, supporting an embarrassed look. Leaning back against the counter of the kitchen island. His hands gripping the edge so tightly it almost seemed like it drained the blood.

Was he nervous? He couldn’t be, he had never been nervous when you were around in the past. Though the tension between you both could be cut by a knife.

“I brought beer.” You smiled, holding up the six-pack in your hand breaking the slightly awkward silence.

“You didn’t have to.”

“It’s not polite to come empty-handed.”

“You’re family, you’re not obliged to bring anything.” He gave you a smile grabbing the six-pack from your hands. Making his way towards the fridge, opening the door, and looking back at you. “Want one?”

“I prefer a cold one.”

He nodded, grabbing two bottles from a shelf while sliding your six-pack into one of the empty spots. He cracked open both bottles, handing you one.

A polite conversation followed as you settled yourselves in the living room. With the amount of pizza ordered, you suggested doing a taste test. Andy admitted that he didn’t know what you would like and had ordered multiple choices while he handed you a notepad and pen to scribble down your ratings of each slice.

He had started playing Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and you were so invested in the film. Almost blocking out where you were, losing track of your surroundings as the television sucked you into the story at least so you had hoped.

Your your mind wandered to other things. What would life look like if you and Andy had started dating? What if Laurie never had acted upon her impulses? He kept it neat and groomed, the bristles must be so soft. His beard would surely feel great on your skin. Those hands were large and probably very skilled. The way he gripped his beer bottle with precision and delicacy. The motion made you swallow hard, shaking your head slightly to gain back focus.

The thought of those fingers deeply buried inside you made you clench. How the curl of gesture would send you over the edge with much skill. His perfect lips wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking your core. Pleasing you in any and every way no man had ever done before.

You blamed it on the way he walked around the office. He truly must be very well hung. The way his bulge had once been shown and on full display. Remembering the way he had looked back at you through narrowed eyes. As if to tell you that you had been the reason his pants got awfully tight.

With a choked breath, your chest warmed at the sound of his laughter. Clamping a hand over your mouth when you let out a squeak from the slight shock. His eyes burned holes into your skin as you felt him watch. Though it was hard not to do the same every time he laughed at a funny part, either taking a sip of the beer in his hand or taking a bite from his pizza.

“You know you can sit on the couch, right?” The question sounded more like a demand, but you tried to avoid his gaze at all costs.

“I know, but I like sitting on the floor.” It was a swift reply, gulping your beer. Nervous feelings grew in the pit of your stomach.

“When your ass gets all stiff and tingling, you know where you can get comfortable.”

You almost choked on the gulp of beer you had just taken. Coughing and laughing as you tried to breathe. Andy slid over, softly patting and rubbing your back.

“Don’t say things like that Andy, I could’ve killed myself.”

“As long as I’m here, you’re free from harm’s reach.”

“How noble, my knight in shining armour.”

“Is that how you’ve been seeing me for all those years?”

His gloating face said it all. He knew about your crush on him. How? Did Laurie tell him? Was it all those stolen glances in the office or the ones here on his couch in his own home? Maybe even all the tortuous looks and hurrying out of the room whenever he was near in your college days?

You felt your face heat up, trying to hide your embarrassed expression. Blood pumped through your veins like it was about to blow your eardrums.

“I’ve known for years.” Andy confessed, “I must say I’m amazed and angered at the same time. You have denied yourself to try and win me for you. Were you too shy to ask me out for that sorority party?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. There was no turning back. Lying to him or yourself wasn’t going to help either of you.

“Yes.”

“I need a little more words than that, sweetheart.” He inched his way closer to you.

“Yes, I was shy.” The lump in your throat felt uncomfortable.

“Why did you let Laurie treat you the way she did? Why did you let her win?”

“I don’t know. I should go home.” You rushed, trying to get up and run away from this mess that was unfolding. Instead, you were slammed back down, air left your lungs as you collided with Andy’s thighs. One hand kept you pinned down on his lap. The other massaging and squeezing your ass.

“It’s always been you that I truly wanted,” a warmth flooded your chest again. “Imagine my disappointment when you didn’t object during our wedding. Making me feel miserable and stuck in this marriage for years.”

Andy’s hand rubbed the globe of your ass, you gasped when his hand smacked your ass. Your muscles contracted under the impact but melted into the obtained position over his lap. The realization of him punishing you for all your past mistakes went straight to your core. Biting down on your lip to stifle the moan from breaking free.

“I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Are you really, sweetheart?” Andy asked, leaving another imprint on your ass.

“Yes.” A desperate cry for him

“How about you being exceptionally quiet and showing me how well you can take your punishment.” The question was laced with a promise. A firm one at that. “I’d like to hear how sorry you really are.”

You simply nodded bracing for impact, but it faded to surprise when he lifted your skirt. Andy hummed with satisfaction as your lace panties and garter set became exposed.

With each collision of Andy’s hand, your ass became more and more sore. Every harsh slap felt more raw than the previous one. Making you bite your lower lip, trying to keep the sounds muffled and still.

“Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes.” You replied,

“I think you can do much better than that.”

Another smack burned on your skin. You nodded your head, crying out an “I’m sorry, Andy.”

You were surprised when Andy helped you sit back on the couch. Hissing at the burn of your ass on the fabric. Your mascara had stained your cheeks from the few tears that had slipped from the arousing pain.

His fingers softly brushed your cheek. Gathering the melted makeup or maybe even smearing it further. There was no telling in his movement.

“You look beautiful.” The whisper was barely audible and spoken with true admiration. Without thought, you pressed your lips against his. Feeling him smile into this moment. Probably because it had been the first time since you took charge of what felt right.

“Tell me you want this.” Andy breathed against your lips, as the kiss broke. Your eyes flickered open, meeting his gaze. Worry and hope both dancing in the blue hue of his eyes.

“More than anything.” It wasn’t a lie, but it would be wrong to act upon these feelings. “We can’t.”

“Laurie won’t mind. She doesn’t love me the way you love me.”

“But-”

His lips interrupted the speech you were about to recite. Guilt clearly wasn’t on Andy’s mind. The way his tongue explored every part of your mouth like he was on a scavenger hunt. Stroking, teasing, pleasing and obscenely filthy. He made you hungry for more.

Not even your wildest dreams could’ve prepared you for the searing passion. His large hands cupped your face guiding you to lie down. The moment he had you underneath him, his hands ripped your silk shirt with haste. Neither of you cared enough for the pearl buttons that flew across the room.

With a darkened hunger he glanced back at you. Toying your nipples through the laced fabric of your bra between his fingers. You arched off the couch as he pebbled and tugged on your breasts. Swiftly pulling the delicate lace down, taking one of your boobs into his mouth. You whined at the erotic swirl of his tongue, nothing but lustful precision.

His hands found the zipper on your skirt. Tugging the item off, discarding it on the floor. Running his hands over your garter belt. The look on Andy’s face said it all, he hadn’t seen anything like it in a long time. Making you his shiny new toy, ready to be devoured and owned.

You leaned up, cupping his face and pulling him into a desperate kiss. Feeling his hand smoothly moving over your panties. Your body had now become his playground, making you desperate for him. With a pout he broke of your kiss, searching for your approval as he pulled aside the material of your panties. A softened smile was enough for him to slide his fingers through your heat, coating them in your juices.

Andy brought his finger to his mouth, groaning loudly as he licked them off. You tried to look for that one moment where you would both find a reason to break this off. Yet all you found was a deepened craving to need one another.

You watched Andy lean down. Kissing his way around your thighs. The soft hair of his beard tickling and teasing your skin. Gasping at the tender lick from the tip of his tongue against your clit followed by a gentle kiss. Another lick gathered more of your soaked core. Sucking on the pulsating nub. His tongue explored every crease and crevice of your cunt.

The throbbing ache builded between your legs while Andy gently licked through your folds. Circling the tip of his tongue over your clit, making sure to tease you enough until you let out a soft whine. With every sound you made from his touch, he sucked down and placed a kiss.

He spread your legs wide, needing more space than you currently allowed him. For a moment shame coursed your body, closing your legs as far as he allowed you to. You covered your face with your arms as if to shield your emotions from him. Andy’s hands squeeze your thighs harshly, making you inhale sharply.

“Don’t you ever dare hide from me.” He warned, peeling your arms off your face. A fiery kiss pressed against your lips. Your moan seemed enough for Andy to start more exploration. Leaving your lips, pecking your jaw. Nibbling your ear, tracing your neck. Sucking, licking and teasing in order to make you focus on the sinful pleasure.

The suck of his mouth on your breasts made you arch further into him. The way he played your body like a fiddle. Making you sing a different tune. Allowing you to float on cloud nine when he had barely done anything yet.

The softness of his hands stroked your legs. Comforting you in this odd situation. Making sure to let you know it was okay to give in to him and enjoy this just as much as he did. Your panties were hooked around his fingers. Letting them be pulled down and thrown into the room.

The grip of his hands was a little rougher when he pulled your legs apart again. Coming face to face with your soaked cunt. You tried to read his face, a certain glow of admiration spreading across his features.

“Beautiful.” He praised. The whisper of his voice penetrated your mind. He clearly longed for you just as much as you longed for him.

His large palms held your ass, while the tips of his thumbs explored the outer edges of your pussy. For a moment you stopped breathing at his gentle touch. Juvenile play as if he was exploring what stroke would give him a reaction.

You watched Andy lean forward, feeling his tongue toy with your clit. Flat swipes, gentle circles and a rhythmic change between a slow and faster pace was enough to make you cry out for him. Your hands found the strands of his fluffed-up hair. Making sure he knew you appreciated his delicate touch.

His tongue swiped back and forth through your lips. Sucking his lips around your clit as he reached the top. Lewd noises filled the air as he drank up your juices.

His possession became clear when you tried to shift into another position. His large hands held you in place. Making sure you felt every bristle of his beard and movement of his mouth. His tongue sank deeper and with more pressure like a deprived man who had been kept from his dirty little secret.

You tugged his hair at the eliciting feeling building in the pit of your stomach. His beard rubbed your sensitive cunt as his tongue worked its magic. The feeling too overwhelming making your hands try to stop him. Andy hadn’t waited long to stop his actions. He furrowed his brows in annoyance.

“When I’m down here, you don’t get to interrupt me. Understood?”

“Yes-yes.” You stammered out under his gaze.

With a single nod, you felt his tongue deep between the lips of your pussy again. Delicate kitten licks toying with you and with each moan it spurred him on to fasten his actions. Burying his face for a deeper taste of you.

With a harsh suck, he popped your clit from his mouth. You felt him smiling against your pussy. Happy to be between your legs. Allowing you to play and tug his hair as long as you didn’t interrupt his meal.

His tongue flicked your pulsing clit while his thumb rubs up and down your hole. Gathering all of the dripping nectar with his mouth. Feeling the pressure of his other finger digging into your ass. Your hips bucked for a second and he pushed his thumb in.

Sobbing at the assault on your cunt only allowed for his tongue to rapidly flick and swirl your clit. The thrust of his thumb didn’t feel big enough. Only making you whine and whimper for more of his touch.

Another finger joins as you feel two fingers sliding up and down your pussy. “Yes!” You exclaimed at the relief of the soft stretch. Whining when he slid them back out.

Andy’s explored every inch of your soaked core. One of his fingers teased your entrance, making your body writhe under his touch desperately. Feeling two of his fingers slide inside felt like a gift. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he scissors them inside. Pulling them in and out to draw more of your juice out.

No man had ever given your cunt this type of attention. Not with this much precision. He hummed at the taste of everything you were giving him. Your moans increased as he made you feel so good.

“Oh fuck.” Your head craned backwards as you pulled his face closer to your cunt. Not wanting him to leave.

With a twist of his wrist, he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. Everything was happening so fast, you couldn’y even think about wrong or right anymore. His hand was covered in your sweet nectar, lapping it up with his hungered mouth. Drawing everything out that you’re giving him.

Your orgasm builded quickly, nothing but gasps, moans and whimpers leaving your body. Bucking your hips against his face was punished with his strong arm holding you down. Clearly sending you a sign that he would do all the work.

The burn of his beard had subdued due to the ecstatic feeling that rose. The squelched noises filled the air as your cunt drenched his fingers.

“Andy, please.” You screamed at the erratic pumps. Your legs clamped around his head. The spasms of your body erupted from his assault. “Please, stop, Andy.”

Shuddering around his fingers made him still his fingers and pull back from your pussy. His bewildered gaze met yours. He was a man on a mission. The grip on the couch eased up, as he let you have a moment to catch your breath.

Drawing his fingers from your core, he plunged them back in. Clearly sending you a sign that he would be the one making all the decisions tonight. Your trembling body assaulted another time as his mouth worked your core. Soft kisses and strokes helped you through your high. Working with you to come back down from the heavenly state he had put you in.

Andy got up without a warning. Holding out his hand for you to grab. Your cunt still pulsating from the mindblowing orgasm, making it hard to stand up. Rolling your eyes at this uncharming moment as he guided you up the stairs.

As he opened the bedroom door he turned back at you. Suddenly everything was starting to become too real as you stood in front of him vulnerable and naked. Guilt clouding your mind once again. Andy grabbed your waist, pulling you closer and swiftly turning your bodies, making you walk backwards. His lips teasing yours with soft pecks.

“You’re overdressed, Barber.”

He threw his head back laughing at your words. Releasing you from his grasp, undressing quickly. You glanced down your body, noting you still were in your own lingerie. Unclipping your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Your fingers hooked under the garter belt around your waist. Andy stopped your hands from acting any further as you tried to slide it off. He raised an eyebrow, giving you a warning, watching him slide down his boxers. Gulping when his cock springs free as he pulls his boxers down.

Andy was bigger than any other man you had in the past. One thing was clear, Andy Barber wanted you more than anything. He was going to be yours for a night. Fuck Laurie and her stupid comments that still had haunted you.

You would devour him one time and then cut all ties. A way of getting him out of your system. Your hands wandered over your ass up your hips and waist. Gliding over your breasts, tweaking the nipples between your fingers.

“You’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.” Andy praised, stepping towards you. His hand settled at the base of your neck while the other cupped your cheek. His lips were hungry, searching for an entry. A filthy swipe of his tongue against your lips. Caressing your palate and dancing with your tongue. He guided you back towards the bed until you could take no more steps.

His cock pushed against your stomach, making the excitement shoot through your veins. Andy ground into you, making you clench around nothing. Humming at the strokes of his tongue, yelping when he suddenly pushed you down on the bed.

Taking advantage of your surprise he flipped you over. Climbing behind you with his knees settling on either side of your body. His hands resting beside your head, pressing loving kisses on your cheek, down your shoulder while tracing wet and sloppy marks down your spine. With every move, he slowly sat back up.

His hands caressed your ass, admiring the view underneath him. Slightly tilting your hips so your ass would spread a little, granting him more access to your pussy.

Andy ran his cock through your soaked core. Coating himself while working your excitement up again. He tapped your pussy with his length before sinking in his tip in to tease you. You gripped the sheets letting out a muffled moan.

“Please, Andy, I need more.”

“So desperate for my cock.”

“Please, fuck me.” You begged, feeling him pull out of you.

Andy repositioned himself, spreading his knees wide, making sure he all leverage over your body. A darkened smile held his face. With a single deep thrust, he nearly splitted you in half. The allowance to get used to his size was short lived when he bottomed out.

“So tight for me, sweetheart.” Andy husked, taking in every expression you displayed as you tilted your head to look back at him. He was looking for discomfort, but all you returned was a smile when he pushed back inside your walls.

His hips rocked in and out, stretching your cunt and easing off the burn. He pulled out, slowly dipping in and out of your dripping cunt. Your hands reached back to spread your cheeks for him while he slowly kept sinking in further and further.

Your hips kept lifting as he kept plunging in and out of your hole. He grabbed your hands, stopping the spread of your ass, guiding them upward above your head. With a rough grasp on your hips he impaled you deeply. Driving his cock inside your wet walls eagerly.

Soft whines escaped when he pounded you from behind. Working up your orgasm as he slided into you over and over again. Clenching around him when he angled his cock just right against your sweet spot.

He drew your body close to his when he rolled you both sideways. The pumps of his cock added more and more pleasure in this newfound position. Your foot rested on his thigh. Feeling his lips marking your neck. His large hand kneading your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you sob at the pleasure swirling in your veins.

You squeezed around him, suddenly releasing more frantic ruts from him. The muscles of your body tensed at the spearing motion. Andy’s hand circled your waistline finding your swollen clit. His flat fingers rotated your overworked cunt. Making you squeeze him even harder as you couldn’t withhold from cumming. You trembled in his hold as he kept you close.

He slid out and laid back, his cock still throbbing as you turn your body towards him. You licked your lips at the glistened length.

“I want to admire your view. Ride me, sweetheart.” Andy ordered

It was a different request than what you initially had in mind, but it wasn’t one you were going to deny him if it meant more pleasure for you both. Soaking up every inch of love Andy was willing to give you before you had to part ways.

Throwing your leg over, he holds his cock for you to sink down on. Your mouth fell open at the renewed positioned feel of his width. Halfway there he let you take control. Sliding his own hands up your body playing with your nipples and kneading the squishy flesh of your breasts.

“So good.” You gasped, bouncing gently up and down his cock. Watching Andy’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. Upon impulse you respond by leaning forward as you keep riding him. Your lips meeting, kissing him fiercely.

With your hips circling his cock his hands were free to roam and caress your body. His hands stroked the small of your back down to your ass, helping you push down further on his cock. Pulling you back into him when you lift a little too high. Meeting the slow rocks of your hips while your mouths desperately fuck one another on their own rhythm.

His arms circled your waist, holding you down, fucking up into your drenched cunt. Breathlessly you break off the searing kiss as he fucks you deeply. His eyes watch you closely, admiring your beauty as you work up to another orgasm.

Andy flipped your bodies, making your legs fell open. He sank back in deeply, resting his arms beside you. Your needy body right where he wanted it. You’re vulnerable while he was in total control. He slowly rolled his hips into you. The friction was deep and loving. Your legs circled his waist, holding him within close proximity.

His ruts deepen with every pound, making it harder for you to breathe. Every inhale was met with a cry of pleasure. Your sobs only made him pump you harder. Fucking you harder into the mattress. You were about to reach another high when he swiftly pulls out and pumps himself on your stomach. His white ropes painted your flesh.

“I want to pump you full of me.”

“Then fuck me, Andy.”

A consensual agreement, not one of you had thought of a condom. Too busy drinking up one another. Without another word, he slid back inside your walls. Opening one leg while resting the sole of your foot against his shoulder. Slowly you fell apart as your muscles tensed up again.

A rough pounding as he fucks you deeply. Taking him to the hilt, creaming his cock with your arousal. His hand took a hold of your ankle and he pressed his lips against the inside. You watch him lean his head back, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

Andy chased his own high with a guttural growl. The orgasm rippled through you, trembling underneath him. Your body screamed for him, feeling his hot cum filling you, squeezing him dry, needing every last drop as if he was your antidote to the venemous bite.

Freshly fucked dumb and pleasured. You were taken by surprise when Andy dove back down between your legs.

“You’re going to give me one more, sweetheart,” Andy stated, clearly not having gotten enough of your sweet taste.

The swipe of his tongue feels glorious, making you sob at the feeling. He hovered back over your body, kissing your lips and letting your taste your mixed pleasure.

His beard scraped your folds, while his greedy fingers pump your filled cunt. Andy drank from your pussy like it was his last drink. The swirl of his tongue circled your clit. The perfect suction on the pulsating nub. Dragging his flat tongue over your soaked hole. The sweet nectar with his cum dripping generously.

Your hands entwine themselves in his crazed hair as he vigorously pumps you with his digits. The sweet moans filled the room, as you felt the perspiration covering your body from being overstimulated.

Andy worked your pussy like a professional. His mouth not leaving your clit while his fingers did all the pounding. Curling and twisting them inside you. Your body started to spasm against his tongue when he penetrated your hole.

Drenched for just Andy as he licked you clean. Exhausting your body to the limit. Squeezing every ounce of liquid from it, like it was his mission.

Your throbbing core had pushed out all of his cum by now. The thought of him cleaning you out from his own cum made you even more aroused. Your muscles tensed up, making the ache of another orgasm even more pleasurable.

“Please andy, don’t stop.” You whined, feeling his thick tongue licking your clit.

Andy continued until your body stopped writhing. Fully saturated when your final orgasm had taken over. He pecked your cunt with his lips. Admiring it in its whole, while watching it pulsate around nothing. The ache was still there, but it was worth it.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart.” Andy smiled, leaning upwards. His body was on top of yours, pressing his lips against yours, stroking your hair as you willingly circled your legs around his waist. Locking him into your grasp with your ankles linked.

An intimate and vulnerable moment of just you and Andy. A moment that should’ve happened years ago. But now, it was too late. The damage was already done. Guilt overtaking your body.

“She’s seeing someone else.” Andy whispered softly as if he could sense your thoughts. Your eyes grew at the spoken words. How did he know that? “I’ve known for a while. She wasn’t ready to tell the family yet.”

The heavy weight on your shoulders immediately lifted your mood. His arms circling around your waist, holding your body tightly against his.

“Why didn’t you start with that news earlier?” With a balled fist you hit his arm.

He laughed and without answering he kissed you passionately like he had waited his entire life to do so.

#lilos writing #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x female!reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #chris evans smut

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Shouta Aizawa NSFW Profile

Yandere! Shouta Aizawa x fem! reader

Tw: mentions of dub-con, masturbation, stalking, kidnapping, voyeurism, toys, clothed sex, hair-pulling, this one is actually kind of soft and feels less yandere-y to me so sorry that this one is a little less creepy than normal, Shouta is a pleaser and lives for your praise, he gets off with a blanket you gifted him, very mild somnophilia, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 12K

HABITS

In general, Shouta isn’t that perpetually horny. He’s a busy man with constant stress weighing on his shoulders; working as a pro while being a full-time teacher leaves him drained during the few times he gets to relax, and it’s a lot of work to get himself hard, to get off, and to clean up afterwards.

It’s just not worth it to him – especially because it’s a bit sad to be left with just his fist and some low-grade, unrealistic porn as a man in his thirties, isn’t it?

He doesn’t have a partner, and hasn’t had one for quite some time – there was a girl a decade or so ago, but she didn’t last long, and the sex was subpar at best. And so, Shouta finds himself neglecting any sort of sexual activity most nights that he’s off work, not bothering to get himself all worked up and fuck away some of that pent up stress.

Except, then you show up.

His feelings for you form, and although it takes a long time for them to solidify, it takes an even longer time for them to turn lewd, any sort of sexual thought involving you not really taking root into he’s much further into his obsession.

This is for a few reasons – firstly, he just doesn’t have that high of a libido, and while seeing you naked when he’s watching from outside your window certainly gets him hot and bothered, he isn’t constantly fantasizing about bending you over and fucking you until you’re screaming his name.

(Not never, just not constantly – and at inopportune moments, sometimes. Moments where he really should be focused on the mountains of paperwork on his desk, not focused on how the desk is the perfect height for you to be standing on your tiptoes, ass poised out and your chest pressed against the hard wooden lacquer, your soft skin glistening in the dim light and your pretty thighs twitching and quivering as his fingers press deeper and deeper and deeper -)

Secondly, Shouta’s already feeling such crippling guilt regarding his infatuation with you that adding on overt sexual fantasies for you would push him too far. He already hates that he thinks of you constantly, that he’s always idly worrying about your safety, wanting to know your location and who you’re with and what you’re doing.

He already dislikes that he can’t stop himself from swinging by your apartment at the end of his patrols, making sure that you’re in your bed asleep, safe and sound and looking so fucking pretty in the moonlight. He doesn’t like how wrapped around your finger you have him, so how could he justify wringing himself dry to you, depraved fantasies running through his mind as he imagines the way you’d cream on his fingers, how you’d clench down on him so, so tightly when he fucks you just right?

Shouta can’t – it would breach too many protocols of trust, the friendship formed between the two of you precarious enough as it is with Shouta’s obsessive, disturbing feelings. He doesn’t think of you sexually, banishing every thought from his mind the moment it appears.

Or, at least, that’s what he wishes could be true – unfortunately, his hormones get the better of him sometimes, leaving him rolling around in his bed, cock painfully hard and his mind insistently flashing images of you changing behind his eyelids.

He’s embarrassed, more than anything, that he doesn’t have enough self control to successfully halt any lewd thoughts of you – it’s pathetic, really, because is he so desperate to touch you that he literally can’t stop himself?

Is he really so painfully, pitifully aroused by you that just the mere idea of you licking your lips or smiling at him can get him breathing hard, thankful for the bagginess of his pants?

He hates that the answer is yes, that his body is really that pent up and eager to get you under him, naked and soft and pretty, all for him and only him. It’s demoralizing, but Shouta only has so much restraint – he tries to hold out for as long as he can, really. He swears.

It’s torture at first, popping melatonin and chugging Nyquil, hoping he’ll be able to pass out and sleep off the horniness, but it never quite works. Instead, his dreams are full of you – on your knees, sucking him off so well that your cheeks are literally hollowing, drool spilling down your chin, a string of saliva and precum connecting your puffy lips to his swollen tip when you pull off for air.

He’ll dream of you on your hands and knees, peeking back at him with glassy eyes and biting your lip, clearly embarrassed as you ask him to touch me, please Shouta, I need you…

He always wakes up with soiled sheets, his entire pelvis sticky with now cold cum, and it becomes very, very difficult to look you in the eye that day, only able to conjure up the image of you all tied up in his scarf, your breasts perfectly framed and your thighs spread, slick covering them as you whine his name, desperate for him.

And though he tries to stave off, not letting himself actively fantasize about you sexually while he’s conscious, a particularly rough day of teaching and patrol have him giving up, throwing caution to the wind as he decides that he needs this, that a release is the only way he’ll be able to stay sane.

In the past, the few times he’s masturbated he’s always just fucked his fist, not needing anything too fancy. But for you, something about that feels disrespectful – it’s stupid and he knows it, but the idea of just thrusting into his hand over and over until he eventually spills all over his knuckles seems tacky, low-class, almost offensive to your image, like he’s tarnishing you and the way he idolizes you.

So, he relies on the next best thing he can scrounge up – you’d given him a blanket a few months ago, a birthday present that he’d tried desperately to cover his blush at receiving.

(Hizashi had pitched in, helping you decide which color and texture, having an expert’s opinion so that it would be perfect for the dark-haired man – a level of detail and attention to his desires that still, to this day, makes his heart flutter to think about. You cared, wanting him to be happy, and just that thought leaves his chest swelling with pride, his palms getting a bit clammy and his cheeks feeling too hot.)

He’s kept the blanket on his bed, using it every single night for the limited sleep he manages to get, making sure the material is always, always touching his body. It’s the only way he really feels close to you – the blanket was for him, sure, but you’d touched it, picked it out, held it in your arms while Shouta was dumbly gaping at you and struggling to utter out a strained thank you.

(If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can even smell you on the fabric – it’s not as good as if you were actually here with him, laying in his arms, touching him, but if he strains enough and pretends hard enough, there’s the faintest whiff of you.)

He’s gulping, throwing his uniform off and leaving it crumped up in the corner, before gently, daintily grabbing the edges of the neatly folded blanket (a stark contrast to the harsh pulling and tugging at his costume he’d thrown off moments earlier) and laying it out on the bed.

He lets out a shaky breath, gulping, before tying his hair back into a messy, low ponytail, excitement flitting through him because he’s really about to do it. He’s really about to touch himself to the thought of you, allowing himself to fully indulge in the fantasy that is you, the fantasy that is imagining the way you’d feel against his body, your lips against his own, your hands in his hair and your thighs around his waist.

He’s moving slow as he settles onto his knees on the bed, staring down at the blanket with furrowed brows. This isn’t quite right – the image of you laying before him, body nude and your legs clenched together in anticipation feels very, very right, but there’s something missing.

A thumb comes down to idly rub at the blanket, tracing small circles against the material as he wracks his brain. What’s missing? How can he make this feel like you, like it’s your body he’s touching, like it’s your perfect little cunt he’s fucking?

He’s not sure, but suddenly it hits him – your body, just as he’d been dreaming about.

The blanket doesn’t look enough like you – it’s two dimensional, flat and having no surface area to grip onto, nothing for him to fondle and touch and squeeze.

It needs to have more of your shape – quickly, methodically, he’s reaching down, grabbing handfuls of the blanket and bunching it up, forming a shape that vaguely resembles your torso. He’s careful to get the exact shape of your waist and hips, making sure to leave mounds of crumpled blanket to represent your breasts, even creating a little space between your thighs that represents something soft, something warm and wet and tight – your precious little pussy, something Shouta would literally kill to feel.

He gulps as he looks down at his work, the atmosphere suddenly seeming much thicker, heavier, hotter, because now, the solid colored blanket seems like you, at least having your body shape and your vague proportions. Aizawa lets his hand run down what would be your side, pausing right over your pretend hip.

Fuck, he mutters under his breath, before shifting forward slightly, letting his weight rest on his knees and one hand as he carefully guides his cock to the space between your crafted thighs.

He’d been careful to leave a fold in the fabric, a pouch of sorts – a place for him to push into, slowly spreading the two layers, trying to mimic the way your pretty lips would part for him, your walls sucking him and clenching him nice and tight, wanting to keep him inside and never let him pull out.

Shouta curses as he rubs his tip against the fabric, noting with a small, far-away sense of disdain that there’s precum smearing all along the fabric, certainly leaving a stain that he’ll have to scrub out later. His thumb comes up to gently swipe along where he imagines your cheek to be, even feeling phantom sensations of warmth, of softness, just as you’d be.

He leans down slowly, throat bobbing, before letting his eyes flutter closed, his lips pressing against the blanket – right where he imagines your own to be. The kiss is soft, gentle, heartfelt, his tongue flicking out to lick against the blanket material, groaning and wishing it was your own tongue meeting his, your own spit coating his lips.

As he gets closer, body inching further down until his chest pressed up against what’s supposed to be your breasts, he shuffles his hips forward, pushing past the fabric fold and into you. He groans, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against where he imagines yours to be, letting his eyes shut tight, nearly squeezing them closed as he slowly rocks his hips.

The friction of the blanket feels a bit strange, not how you’d feel, but it’s better than nothing – and it’s so, so very easy to imagine you instead; your warm, slick walls, the way you’d squeeze at him when he brushes up against your spot, the way your legs would wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles and pulling him in closer, begging him to go deeper. He sighs out, biting his lip and furrowing his brow, the pleasure slowly beginning to mount.

He imagines the way you’d moan his name – he bets you’d be airy, a soft sound that gets his hips stuttering ever so slightly because he knows the way his name would sound spilling from your lips would be heaven, the sultry Shouta upturned at the end as he fucks into you just the slightest bit faster.

His hips pick up their pace at the thought of you crying his name, back muscles flexing as he slowly gets faster and faster, the slow, sweet, intimate pace he’d set blown to dust in the wake of his thighs propelling him forward, hips flying and smacking into the blanket so quickly and harshly that the mattress is shaking, bedframe slightly pounding against the wall.

Shouta groans, low and deep, imagining the way you’d beg him to go faster Shouta please, please please please you feel s’good, wanna come for you! Memories of seeing you touch yourself flash behind his closed eyes, seeing the way your face screwed up in pleasure, how you gripped at your pillows and bucked your hips and trembled and arched your back and gasped and came –

Shouta’s chanting your name, his hips sinking into the fold of the blanket over and over, and quickly he’s bringing a thumb down to rub frantic, uneven circles where he imagines your clit to be, desperate to get you coming, wanting to time your orgasm with his.

Fuck, come for me baby, give it to me, god you’re s’damn tight fuuuck - !

His eyes fly open as spurts of warm, milky cum spray from his tip, getting all over the blanket and making his hips stutter and jerk, the sensation of coming in something leaving his arms feeling weak.

He’s panting, still saying your name under his breath, dark hair falling around his face as his thighs flex and clench, the last bits of cum dribbling from his tip and leaving him feeling spent. He can’t help but imagine the way you’d take him, if you’d thank him for giving him everything he has to offer, if you’d hold onto him until you both caught your breath, if your walls would still flutter and clench sporadically even after you’d come down from your high.

He closes his eyes again, heart practically in his throat as he leans down once more to kiss the blanket, tongue sneaking out and wet noises filling the room as spit and drool get slobbered all over the fabric.

He’s still out of breath, panting when he pulls back, but it’s not until he leans back onto his knees and takes a good look at the blanket that his high begins to fade, the reminder that you’re not really there making a sharp feeling dig into his gut.

He stares for a moment, before sighing, slowly pulling out of the blanket and grimacing when he feels cooling cum sliding across his cock, the white mess all over the material and smeared across his skin.

He brings a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes and sighing. What was he doing?

He’d just fucked a blanket – a gift, from you no less – while pretending it was you, his desperation to get you naked and in his grasp strong enough to make him lose him mind.

Pathetic, he was truly pathetic.

He’s ashamed as he throws the blanket into the laundry, hoping the cum stains will come out with all the bleach he’d thrown in alongside it, and as he chugs his coffee, deciding to get to school early and try to collect himself, Shouta can only sigh.

You make him such a fucking fool – a freak, perverted and creepy and gross, and as soon as he catches sight of you in the staff loungeroom, looking all pretty in your simple blouse and slacks, he knows he’s a lost cause, every bit of self-respect falling by the wayside.

 Because as soon as he looks at you, all he can think of is how you’d look underneath him, stuffed full of his cum and a dazed, fucked-out expression scrawled across your face. All he can think of is how you’d be absolutely perfect to sink his cock into – and as he darts off to the nearest restroom, desperately trying to get rid of the insistent, raging erection in his pants, he can only sigh, letting his head hang.

He really is a fucking creep.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS

Your thighs

Shouta isn’t one to sexualize women’s bodies. He’s a man with urges, sure, but he’s never had trouble separating sexual attraction from respect for his female friends, even for strangers in the streets. A body is a body, and they aren’t made to be stared at and ogled.

Except where you’re concerned, of course, because while Shouta tries his hardest to not sexualize every thought of you, it’s difficult to hold himself back when he’s so utterly attracted to every single part of you.

It’s hard to not fixate and stare and want when he looks at you, and so while he gives a valiant effort to not obsess over your figure in a less than innocent way, eventually he can’t help himself.

And Shouta discovers that while he loves every inch of you, there’s something about your thighs that drive him absolutely fucking crazy.

Maybe it’s their shape – pretty expanses of your skin that look perfect to grope and squeeze, the soft curves making him salivate in a way that feels almost predatory.

Maybe it’s the way they feel – your skin is so soft, especially if he moves his hands further up, between them, nearing somewhere warm and wet and throbbing.

Maybe it’s the way they feel when they’re around his waist, caging him in and keeping him right where he wants to be, and when they’re around his head?

(Don’t mention the instances where he’s orgasmed just from simply eating you out – it’s embarrassing, and while he won’t deny it, he will change the conversation and pray you don’t see the soft, barely-there pink blooming on his cheeks.)

Maybe it’s even the way you respond when he touches them – how you jump a little bit, his calloused hands feeling a bit cold as they skim along the sides, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs, a comforting finger brushing along the juncture of your legs and pelvic bone.

He’s not entirely sure, but one thing he does know is that just seeing your bare thighs is enough to get him gulping, his dark gaze struggling to move away as he watches the area jiggle and flex while you walk, every step you take only making him want you more and more.

Even before he’s stolen you away, he’s fantasizing about your thighs – he’s bought more pairs of stockings and thigh-highs than he’d care to admit, keeping them neatly organized in a specific drawer in his closet, often fingering the material and biting his lip.

(The image of you wearing them makes him drool, the idea of the top hem squeezing your thigh and making a little bulge appear right above the socks getting his hand wandering down his torso, his fingers making quick word of his belt buckle because fuuuck, would you keep them on while he throws your legs over his shoulders and absolutely destroys you?)

He’s always taking extra time and care to properly worship them when he’s got his head between your legs, letting his lips and tongue trail all along the soft skin, leaving teasing bite marks and hickeys and feeling the way you tremble under his touch because he’s so close yet so far from where you need him.

He’s always got a hand on your thighs when he’s fucking you, his fingers clutching and digging into the skin while he shuts his eyes tight and wills himself to last longer, to prolong the moment, to give you more more more, just like you deserve.

He just really, really likes your thighs, so don’t be surprised when he’s got his hand casually placed on one when you’re watching a movie together, his gaze purposefully not looking at you because you can’t see how flustered he is from touching your clothed thigh in a non-sexual context.

You can’t.

His hands

In general, Shouta lives to please you in bed. He’s by no means submissive (though he could be persuaded if you really, really wanted to be in charge for a night), but he’s a caring partner in every possible sense of the word – sex is about you, and any pleasure he gets from it is just a fun bonus.

And because of this, he takes every opportunity to learn new ways to please you, trying everything from teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, buying a collection of vibrators, even letting you grind against the expanse of his thigh.

But his favorite method by far is using his fingers on you. They’re thick, with scars and callouses dotting the rough skin, but they’re so gentle with you, always touching you like you’re something fragile and delicate and breakable. He's careful with you when he’s rubbing circles over your clit, the pressure consistent enough to feel good but not too hard, sometimes even teasing you. He’s gentle when he’s running his fingertips over your folds, occasionally dipping in just a hair to feel the warm wetness he wants so very badly to sink into.

(He often sucks in a short, nearly inaudible gasp when he does this, his Adam’s apple bobbing because god you’re wet, and he’ll pull back to lick off his fingers, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tastes you.)

He particularly enjoys fingering you – he’s dexterous, and he always goes slow and purposefully, learning quickly exactly where you like to be touched. He’ll angle the pads of his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl, his lip caught between his teeth as he watches your face twist up, hearing your pretty sighs and moans, feeling the way you clench around him, your hips twitching a bit as if to get him deeper, to get more of him. He keeps his pace sensual, the come-hither motion slow and controlled, all the while keeping his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, drawing shapes that stay just consistent enough to get you closer and closer.

All the while, the other hand is gently working at your clit, his fingers expertly getting the exact pressure and pattern you like, making your thighs twitch and your little gasps and mewls louder and more insistent.

And when he’s not actively working between your legs, Shouta’s always got his fingers pleasuring you in other ways – gently kneading at your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between a thumb and index finger, groping and squeezing at you like a man starved as his tongue flicks and sucks at your clit.

They’re grasping a handful of your thigh and squeezing reassuringly as he’s fucking you, his pace slow and deep, making sure you feel every possible inch of him as he folds you in half.

He’s even slipping a thumb against your tongue when you take a break to breath, your chest heaving and your fingers wrapped around his girth, a groan slipping from his lips because god, the sight of his precum dribbling down your chin is enough to get his cock twitching on its own. He’ll press down on your tongue, his lip caught between his teeth as you stare up at him, the sight indescribably erotic, a few praises falling from his mouth about how good you look, how pretty you are, how well you take care of him.

(All the while, he’s feeling you suck on his thumb, eagerly running your tongue along the skin and even swallowing around it to give the extra suction. Shouta curses under his breath, and suddenly stands, grabbing you by the hips and forcing you to bend over the chair he’d previously been sitting on, roughly spreading your legs and immediately diving in to lick and suck against your clit, a finger slipping inside of you because he just can’t not touch you after watching you drool all over him.)

He just likes to make you feel good, and while he enjoys pleasuring you with his mouth, nothing can beat the way you moan and shake when he’s working his fingers on you, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re incoherent, your poor body trembling, the only thing you can think of him him him.

DRIVE

Though you inspire more sexual desire and drive within him than he’s experienced for the last twenty years, Shouta is still not absolutely desperate to fuck you at all times.

Sure, the idea is nice – being intimate with you is something he craves, but nine times out of ten this intimacy takes the form of simply holding you. Sitting beside you with your head resting on his shoulder, a blanket covering the both of your bodies as you snore softly and cling to him in your sleep, showing that you feel safe with him, that you trust him to protect you.

(Shouta is normally able to keep his staring in check and not be too terribly overt with it, but in times like these he allows himself to openly gape at you, those dark eyes of his examining every detail of your face. Every small wrinkle, every hair and mole, even every lash and baby hair that frames your cheeks. You’re just too damn pretty, and like this he can commit every last detail to memory – as if he hadn’t already, as if he doesn’t sleep at night with your face dancing through his dreams, as if he sees flashes of you in everything he does. As if he isn’t thinking of you as unconsciously as he breaths.)

He generally imagines sleeping with you (and genuinely just sleeping – curling up with you in his arms and his face buried next to your neck, the scent of your body and shampoo filling his senses and making him breathe out something that walks the fine line between a sigh and a moan), the peacefulness and tranquility of just having you close to him in the safety of his protection and home.

It’s a type of intimacy that gets Shouta red in the face, the idea so domestic and taboo and foreign that he comes to crave this on a near constant basis, serving as motivation and a way to calm himself when his students are out of control or a villain is being particularly difficult.

But of course, Shouta is only a man, and men have needs – no matter how he tries to keep his obsession with you as innocent as it possibly can be, sexual thoughts trickle in through the cracks of his mental fortitude and leave him with a phantom wonder of how you’d taste – would you be sweet, like the jellies Hizashi had gotten him? Would you be rich and savory? He hopes you’d have a strong musk to you, a smell that he can breathe in and think of you, something that gets his salivating and his body growing hot and his fingers restless and his breath heavy and labored and god –

He’s hard before he knows it, immediately covering his face with his hands because it’s equal parts embarrassing and terrifying how easily you manage to affect him, just the simple thought of you getting his entire body on edge.

And so he eventually takes up masturbation with you in mind, feeling dirty and disgusting each time he recovers from his orgasmic high, making it more and more difficult to look you in the eye without thinking of all the depraved things he’d imagined doing with you mere hours before.

But Shouta thinks he can survive – sure, he wants to fuck you, needs to kiss you, has to see the face you make when you’re coming, but he can control himself. He won’t succumb to the urge to break into your (frustratingly poorly protected) apartment to run his fingers along your pretty skin and fuck his fist mere inches from your face, no matter how badly his body yells and begs him to. He won’t cross this boundary – it’s hypocritical to think of himself not as a pervert at this point, but it’s the only way he confidently resists you.

Except, then you go and force him into kidnapping you – and now you’re with him nearly all moments of the day, your scent in his bedroom (though he knows you never willingly enter there, and he doesn’t force you to), your body always just a heartbeat away, the idea of holding you and kissing much, much closer now.

And even with the constant temptation, Shouta manages to hold out – it’s torture, really, forcing himself to be a good man and giving you privacy, to not touch you, to not press himself against you and feel the contours of your body against his own, but it’s worth it to him. He can’t force anything – he doesn’t want to scare you, and he has this horrible, sneaking suspicion that if he propositioned you, you’d feel too afraid to say no.

And just the thought is enough motivation to keep him from touching you, to keep him celibate from you purely by his choice – even if it starts affecting him physically.

(He’d never, ever admit it to you, but his lust for you becomes so extreme that if he’s gone more than a week or so without having touched himself to the thought of you while you’re under his care, his cock starts physically hurting when he sees you, his hips involuntarily twitching when he hears your voice, his throat feeling dry and his cheeks blooming bright red because god, he’s never wanted to fuck something so bad.)

And so, Shouta forces himself to be an outstanding man – but no one can be alert every moment of every day, and it’s only a matter of time before you catch him in a moment of weakness. Because really, while Shouta was suffering, you were certainly undergoing a struggle of your own – you’ve been stuck with him for a few months at this point, trapped in his modest apartment with everything you could ever need with one glaring, important exception: human touch.

You don’t necessarily want to be physical with your kidnapper, but as the days pass and you slowly come to accept the fact that you won’t be escaping Eraserhead, things start changing. You’re still understandably frightened of him, worried that although he’s not harmed you in any way and hasn’t forced you into much aside from your captivity, he’ll show his true colors and make your life even more of a living hell.

But that doesn’t happen, Shouta staying that familiar presence you’ve become accustomed to; steady, quiet, consistent. Except the more days that pass, the more you start noticing other things about him – he’s strong, isn’t he? You see it when he walks from the bathroom to his bedroom with the towel tightly fastened at his waist, showing off the lean muscle of his arms and torso.

(He can feel your eyes sometimes, but tries not to dwell on what your staring at his naked chest could mean because getting his hopes up means getting them inevitably crushed.)

He’s awfully attentive, isn’t he? He listens when you speak, those dark eyes boring into you and your every wish – aside from escape – granted without so much as a complaint.

And sometimes, he’s a little attractive, isn’t he? In a rugged, man-ish way – a way that makes you gulp and press your thighs together a bit, because something about the stubble that coats his chin and the veins that litter his hands and forearms makes it difficult to breath correctly.

And then the daydreams start – little thoughts about how it would feel for those hands to touch you, for those lips to brush against your own, for his hair to tickle your neck as he hovers over you, his hips moving slowly and rhythmically against you, gruff grunts of your name filling the air between you.

They scare you at first, really, but soon you can’t stop yourself – you know it’s the lack of human contact that’s influencing you, but as time passes and you grow more desperate to know if he’s as attentive in bed as he is everywhere else, you’ll stop caring.

And Shouta can sense that something’s changing – he feels you watching him, notices the way your eyes follow him through a room, how you suck in the sharpest, smallest breath when he nears you, how you grow stiff when he has to flex a muscle in front of you to lift something heavy. Shouta knows that something is different – but it’s not until you grow brave one day that everything is confirmed.

It’d been a long, tiresome day for Shouta – his class had been especially rowdy today, with a simulation villain attack that the teachers participated in, and of course he’d ended up assigned to spar with Todoroki – meaning he’d been moving about, his muscles tired and sore from multiple hours of repetitive fighting. Then he’d had an extra patrol directly after, the villains particularly restless and causing more trouble than normal. Coupled with a nasty rainstorm that had him half freezing to death, Shouta wanted nothing more than to melt into bed, ideally with you beside him but knowing better than to wish for foolish things.

And when he’d stepped in the front door, you’d been waiting for him, sitting nervously on the couch. You’d stood up, but Shouta – despite feeling slightly more awake and alive at the sight of you, like normal – was still exhausted, already on the brink of unconsciousness as he gruffly greeted you. You looked nervous, twiddling your thumbs and biting your lip, but Shouta was too tired to properly ask about it, only mentally noting to check on you tomorrow.

Slumping towards his bedroom, he was abruptly stopped with you grabbed his hand, his entire body going rigid. Your voice was quiet when you asked him why he always seems to avoid touching you, asking if he didn’t want to, if he was repulsed by the idea of touching, if he was repulsed by you.

And Shouta, still half delirious with exhaustion, let the truth slip from his lips before he could help himself – explaining just how badly he craves to feel you, imagining you in every lewd position he can think of, noticing the way your pajama shirts sometimes grow tight when you sleep and roll over, exposing the outline of your breast and nipple and making him physically stop in his tracks and nearly drool like some horny teenager.

Every secret was spilling out of him, his voice still tired and coarse but making your jaw drop, the admission that he’s been fantasizing about making you a mess on his fingers and tongue and cock stunning you. You’d known Shouta harbored some sort of feelings for you, but this?

When he finishes detailing the fact that he regularly fucks his fist to the thought of you at least twice a week after you’ve fallen asleep, you release his hand, immediately missing the warmth of his skin.

Shouta rubs at his eyes, still not facing you, but muttering a small goodnight and retreating to his room, only realizing what’s happened the next morning. His hands shake and he bolts from his bed, his eyes wide and his heart racing, something horrible and feeling like shame and dread sitting in his chest because why the fuck had he told you that?

Facing you the next day has anxiety sitting in his every nerve, his actions jerky and on-edge, an he’d nearly bolted back to the safety of his room when he sawy you sitting at the kitchen table, but then you’d done something unexpected – you’d walked up to him, stood in silence for a moment, then grabbed his hand. Shouta had been confused, unable to ignore the way your hand fit into his own and the softness of your skin against his, but you’d not given him a chance to even ask questions – soon your lips were on his, and your hand had placed his on something warm and soft and squishy –

Shouta gasped against your lips, the feeling of your breast in his hand and your tongue swiping at his lips nearly making his knees buckle. He didn’t respond to your kiss for a few moments, forcing you to pull back and stare at him, something like worry and rejection reflected in your eyes, but it’s not until you whisper in a very small voice that he snaps out of his stupor.

I want you Shouta, and I know you want me.

You were in his bed moments later, his hands frantic and eager and shaking as he practically ripped off your borrowed pajamas, fingers moving fast and settling over every part of your body, seemingly unable to decide on where to stay.

It was rushed, desperation clouding both of your senses, but as Shouta threw your leg over his shoulder and pressed wet kisses against the juncture of your shoulder and neck, his whispered affirmations of his love for you only had you pulling him closer, adoration and shock and something so happy it nearly hurt filling his chest.

Perhaps, just perhaps, something in you loved him as he loved you.  

MAIN THREE KINKS

Clothed Sex

It’s about convenience for Shouta – he’s not lazy in the bedroom, but although he finds you irresistible and is normally willing to expend what very little energy he has on sex with you, he’s willing to take any shortcut he can.

Of course, sex with you in an ideal world sees the both of you completely nude, your bodies pressed as close together as physically possible so that not a breath of space lays between them. He likes being close to you, feeling every inch of you, the intimacy of it unmatched and making Shouta revel in the fact that you’re really there with him, that he’s really getting to touch you, that he’s really getting to kiss you and touch you and fuck you, just as he’s been fantasizing of for months.

But that said, there’s a strange allure to clothed sex – it’s taboo and a little dirty, something that makes him feel a little warm, his palms growing a bit sweaty because it could happen at any time. Whenever the mood strikes him or strikes you, he could simply unzip his pants, shuffle them down a bit and fish out his cock, and he'd be ready to go – already half-hard, the eager anticipation of your touch exciting him from nearly the moment you entered the room.

And it’s easy access to you, too – not that he’d ever take advantage of that fact, your consent still something he asks for every time he touches you. It’s easy to slip your panties to the side, sinking you down onto his lap as he groans and his head lolls back, the feeling of your warmth making his toes curl. He just likes how easy it all is – no time is wasted with struggling to get off your shirt or his pants, and the desperation to be inside you that always seems to overwhelm him at the most inconvenient of times can be attended to that much faster.

He just thinks there’s something so hot about it – he’ll specifically stock you with clothing to wear that makes this easy – flouncy skirts and shorts that make shoving everything to the side and bunching his fist into the cloth to get better leverage while he pounds into you.

He’ll get you tank tops and things that make fishing your breasts out of your top easy, so that they can freely hang and jiggle as he bounces you up and down on his lap, your nipples hardening and shivers racing down your spine as he flicks his tongue at one.

He’ll buy underwear that doesn’t chafe when he shoves it to the side, the pretty sight of lace against your skin making him feral, making him fuck into you harder and more frantically because you almost look like some sort of lewd present when you’re wearing that lingerie – like his very own present, the one thing in the world he wants more than anything else.

And he’ll wear clothing that makes this easy, too – pants that can be unzipped and boxers he can tuck underneath his balls, making sure that nothing gets in the way. And although having sex without clothes is much more common than with clothes, Shouta will surprise you and suddenly press up behind you in the kitchen, telling you that you look too good, that he can’t help himself, that he needs you, and has to fuck you right here, right now, I can’t wait.

And so when you nod, he’ll flip up that skirt of yours – the main culprit for the throbbing between his legs, of course, because the clear view of your legs and thighs makes his mouth water – and slip aside those panties, his cock already out and hard and dripping for you.

It’s spontaneous, more than anything, and it’s one of the only ways in which Shouta is a little carefree with sex – one of the only times that he isn’t serious, or at least as serious.

The main way Shouta likes to engage in clothed sex, though, is through cockwarming. He just likes being close to you – he’s touch-starved, and although he doesn’t have the energy to actually fuck you, he still wants to be inside you, to have your body against his, to have you near and be smelling your scent and hearing your voice.

And so, it’s not a rare occurrence to have him pull you into his arms on his modest leather couch, your frumpy sweatpants and t-shirt (both his, of course, a fact that isn’t lost on him – he will not be washing either of those items when they eventually are off your body) covering your form and his own loungewear covering his.

He’ll shuffle up behind you, pulling you against him so that he’s spooning you, and before long you’ll feel something poking at your ass – something hard and insistent, something that seems to be bobbing and moving every few moments.

Truthfully, Shouta couldn’t say what got him hard – perhaps it was just being with you, or maybe smelling you, or the sight of you in his clothes. It could be any number of things – but his breath hitches as you swallow and carefully tug down the hem of your sweatpants, pressing your exposed ass back against him.

He makes a sound like a low whistle, and then he’s fishing his cock out of his own pants, the tip already wet with precum as he shifts his hips to slip between your legs, propping your leg up over his so that he can push inside. He does so with a small groan, resting his forehead against your back, and he feels you clench down on him.

He’s content to lay there – the warmth of his clothing and from you almost too much, but seeing the way you snuggle deeper into the shirt sending something warm and hot and possessive through his chest. He’ll just pull you against him tighter, the slight shift making the both of you hiss at the small burst of pleasure. He’s content to fall asleep that way – relaxed, his cock still nestled inside of you and hard as a rock, the feeling of your cunt lulling him into dreams filled with you naked and moaning his name, all bouncing breasts and desperate hands and begs for more.

(Don’t be surprised, when this happens, to wake up feeling something dripping out of you – yes, it’s cum and yes, that wet dream was enough to get him there. Don’t mention it, either, because Shouta’s always disappointed that he wasn’t awake for it - after all, call him old-fashioned but finishing inside of you is arguably his favorite selfish part of sex.)

Overstimulation

Shouta is not a stingy lover. In the bedroom, he lives to see you enjoying yourself – it soothes this primal, horrible ache in his chest that yearns or your approval and happiness. A lot of his obsession is born out of a desire to please you and keep you happy and safe, and this translates into making absolutely sure you’re satisfied in every possible way between the sheets.

Sex isn’t really sex until you’ve had at least two orgasms, whether that be because of his fingers or tongue, and only then will he throw your pretty legs up over his shoulders, sinking into you with a sharp exhale and letting his face rest against your sternum as he wills himself to not get too excited, to keep his cool and not rut into you like wild animal. He wants you to enjoy sex with him – he craves intimacy with you and he needs you to crave it too, and he’s hopeful that by giving you the best attention and care in bed, you’ll be more inclined to kiss and hold him, to touch him and whisper those three little words in his ear.

(The three little words that make him gasp and shudder, cum immediately spurting out of his red, swollen tip, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto your thigh and the bedsheets tightly enough to keep himself grounded through the pleasure.)

And so, Shouta finds that there’s something darkly pleasing about being the one to get you orgasming, being the source of your pleasure – seeing your face twist up, your mouth forming that pretty ‘o’ and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Shouta develops a bit of a sick fascination with seeing just how often he can make you come for him, and from what. It stems from a good place; a genuine desire to make you happy and get you shaking with pleasure and incoherent enough that all you can say is his name.

 He likes to choose how you come – will it be his fingers? Will he draw pretty circles on the inside of your thighs, teasing you and feeling the way your breathing picks up a bit, a whine of his name telling him that you’re growing impatient, that you need more, that you need him?

He’ll get closer and closer to your folds, pressing a thumb against them and dipping in ever so slightly, the dull pleasure making you bite your lip, embarrassment eating you alive because it feels so dirty to be teased like this, to keep your legs so wide open for him, to feel the way his eyes are staring at you so fully and intensely, the adoration and lust swimming in those dark depths nearly too much for you handle.

He’ll press two fingers against your clit and get to work, rubbing with light pressure and slowly increasing it, feeling the way the nub gets harder and more swollen, fingers swiping down to collect a bit of your slick to make things easier, the pads of his fingers gliding along your sensitive skin and making your hips jump and twist.

He’ll use his other hand to finger you, rough calloused skin dragging against your walls and pressing right into the spot he knows you love – the one that makes your back arch up, your head pushing back against the pillow, your nails digging into the bedsheets and tangling through his hair. Working you through an orgasm with his fingers is his favorite and what you’ll most likely get – he gets a front row seat, watching with rapt attention as you fall apart for him, feeling the way your thighs tremble and close in around him when you’re right on the edge.

There’s this feeling of power, pride and desire making him light headed and only work harder at his ministrations, ignoring your yelps and gasps of overstimulation because he needs to see that again, to feel the way you clench down onto his fingers so tightly that he has to work to pull them out to thrust back in. You’re just so damn sexy, the sight of you laying before him with your pretty legs spread wide open making him swallow so hard you can hear it.

But of course, Shouta also loves using his mouth to get you off – pink lips attaching to your nipple, sucking and running his tongue over your areola to make you squirm, your little keens making his cock twitch against your thigh.

He’ll kiss at your hips, making a trail down to your clit, giving you little kitten licks while his eyes flick up to look at you, seeing the way you sigh and bite your lip, the rising and falling of your chest making him near feral.  

He wants to see you moan and writhe, to feel you grasping at him and needing him, and so his patience wears out and he dives between your legs, slick coating his nose and chin as he licks and sucks and thrusts his tongue against you, eyes closed in concentration and hair getting in his face but he doesn’t care – how can he, when you sound so pretty moaning his name like that?

How can he, when your thighs are clenching around his head and you’re just so fucking wet for him, showing him exactly how much he’s affecting you?

It's euphoric, and soon you’ll be crying out his name and creaming all over his lips, shaking in his grasp so hard that he has to hold you down by the hips to help you ride out the pleasure, the taste of you making him so hard that it hurts.

And god, there’s something about the way you respond to voice and his commands in bed that makes Shouta curse under his breath. You look up at him all wide-eyed, pleasure written across your face as you look to him for guidance, his voice gruff and thick with lust as he tells you to let go, come for me, want to see you come for me.

You immediately furrow your brows and bite your lip, grinding yourself harder against his fingers, feeling the pads of them brush against the spot that has you seeing stars, his name a prayer as you chant it over and over, only stopping to moan or gasp.

The sight is intoxicating, leaving Shouta gaping like a fish with parted lips and heavy breaths, staring at you like you’re something heavenly, divine, unable to tear his gaze away because he still can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re moaning his name, that you’re letting him touch you and oh, he knows what that change in your facial expression means, how you’re blinding grasping at him, how you’re stuttering out a rushed ‘m coming, Shouta ‘m coming fuck-!

Watching you come undone right before his eyes has Shouta’s cock throbbing, his hips subtly moving against your thigh because he needs friction, the sight of you and the knowledge that he made you this way nearly too much for him to bear.

And when you finally calm down, your breathing wild and your eyes a little glazed over, he’ll just swallow and quickly situate him hips between your legs, gripping himself at the base and impatiently prodding at your entrance, his words dark as he tells you that you’ve got another one in you, give it to me.

When he pushes in – slowly, so as not to hurt you – he lets out a groan, only muffled by the way he leans down to kiss you, feeling the way you tense up and eagerly return the gesture, wrapping your ankles around his waist and pulling him deeper, showing him that you need more more more if you’re going to finish like he wants you to.

And Shouta’s happy to oblige – snapping his hips into you until his muscles are sore and screaming, a thumb relentlessly toying with your clit, his lips against your neck and whispering praise tainted with curses.

He’s encouraging you to feel good, telling you to tell me how it – fuck, how it feels, you’re so goddamn tight, tell me how to fuck you – o-oh…

Because really, while he loves to get you coming and falling apart on his terms, Shouta’s pride flies out the window where you’re concerned – he’d do anything to get you clenching down on him and begging him to finish inside you.

Anything.

Voyeurism

Honestly, it’s a byproduct of having stalked you for such an extended period of time. Watching you was the only way to feel close to you – he wasn’t able to hold you and kiss you, to feel you and lay with you and make you whine his name, and becoming your shadow was the only possible substitution.

And even then, it wasn’t enough – all the guilt he harbors from watching you in your more intimate moments never fades, not even after years of having stolen you away, your pretty body and mind fully his to do as he pleases. He’s still ashamed, but some things he just simply can’t unlearn – and so, even once your sexual relationship begins, Shouta finds himself still utterly excited by the prospect of watching you pleasure yourself.

It’s dirty, horrible, something that makes him feel so guilty he can hardly stand it, but he can’t not stop and watch through the crack in your door when he hears what sounds suspiciously close to muffled whimpers.

He can’t not press his ear against the wooden door, closing his eyes and imagining what you’re doing to yourself – maybe you’re playing with that cute little clit, rubbing it in circles and biting your lip because it just feels so damn good, mimicking the way that Shouta works you up slowly and steadily, getting you so sensitive that your hips jump and twitch at just the slightest bit of pressure against your sensitive nerves.

(He’s had dreams about the way you taste – he thinks you’d be musky, something natural and strong and savory, a taste he wants in his mouth at all hours of the day. And the way you’d tremble and gush for him if it was his fingers and mouth toying with the nub, how you’d tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer and closer to you, needing as much of him as possible, needing him him him…)

Maybe you’re sinking your fingers inside of you, working up from one to three, stretching yourself out and imagining it’s him instead, that he’s the one filling you up and making your toes curl, that he’s the one causing all those pretty noises to fall from your lips.

(He knows just how much bigger his own fingers are – he’ll imagine the size difference, his eyes shutting tight when he thinks of how much more he can stretch you out, how much better he can make you feel, how the texture of his fingers must send pleasure up your spine in a way that your soft, comparatively dainty fingers can’t.)

Maybe you’re perched up on a pillow, straddling it with your cunt pressed snugly against the fabric, slick smearing across the cotton as you grind your hips back and forth, hunched over so that the angle is just right, imagining it’s him underneath you and it’s his thigh or cock you’re rubbing against.

(He’s had wet dreams about this sight, always hoping and fantasizing that you’re just so desperate for him that you’re imagining it’s his face you’re riding, his mind conjuring up the sound of your voice moaning out his name and telling him yes yes o-oh fuck yes, Shouta ‘s so good, you feel so good! He’d never seen you riding a pillow during all those months of stalking, but the idea’s just too graphic and wanton and lewd for him to not fantasize about, the idea satisfying the part of him that’s embarrassed and ashamed of just how badly he craves you – because surely if you’re humping some piece of cotton and pretending it’s him, then what does he have to be embarrassed about? Lots, really, but it makes him feel slightly better.)

Or maybe you’ve decided that you want something a little more physical, something to really mimic him – he’d seen you using your vibrator many, many times before he stole you away. His face always turned pink at the sight, his throat going dry and his grip on his capture weapon a little loose as he simply stared, the sight of your pretty body contorting and the plastic held against the crest of your pelvic bone making everything else fade away.

You’re so damn pretty – the way you moan and sigh, how your legs twitch, how your breasts sway and jiggle with every motion, making his fingers ache to reach out and squeeze, to knead and touch and grope, like some sort of pervert.

And this fantasy and mental image has stayed with him long after kidnapping you – once your physical relationship begins and Shouta no longer feels it would make you even more uncomfortable and scared of him, he’s buying you a replacement for that trusty vibrator you used to use to death. He’d left it on your nightstand one morning with a hasty note simply saying I’m gone a lot, I don’t want you to get lonely.

Of course, this is only half the truth – he does want you to be happy, and he doesn’t want you to grow resentful of the times when he’s too exhausted to give you proper sex. But of course, the unspoken portion of this gift is that he wants to watch you use said vibrator – and badly.

He wants to sit in a chair at the side of the bed, legs spread wide as he grips the base of his cock, absentmindedly squeezing at his balls while his dark eyes stay trained on your figure. He wants you to be spread out for him, perhaps a skimpy set of lingerie covering your pretty body (or perhaps none at all, if you’re comfortable with it) with your legs spread wide, the vibrator in your hand hovering against your clit. He wants to hear the steady, dull buzzing sound mixing with your whimpers, to see the way your body tenses up and you whine, feet flexing and shaky breaths slipping past your lips as you slowly work towards your high.

He wants to see the way you eventually grow impatient, changing the vibrator’s setting and immediately crying out, the feeling much more intense and making your orgasm hurtle towards you, getting slick all over the bedspread as you cry out his name and writhe.

And Shouta doesn’t want you to look at him – he doesn’t want you to acknowledge that he’s there. Ignore him, just as you would have back when he was simply watching from outside your window – he wants to watch you, not have a show be put on for him.

You’re just too pretty, and there’s something about watching you that gets him hard as rock, his fist twisting and flicking so quickly it’s nearly a blur as he watches you transition to fucking yourself with the toy, your cries loud and wanton as Shouta grunts and curses under his breath. He wants to finish with you this time, his hips thrusting against his hand in an effort to match the pace you’ve set for yourself. It’s a dirty secret of his, and while Shouta won’t force you into it, just know that he would love to catch you masturbating – just the sight of you pleasuring yourself is enough to get him hot under the collar immediately, hand rushing into his trousers to cup himself because god.

He just likes to watch you, and even during regular sex when he’s folded you in half, those eyes are alternating between watching your face, your bouncing breasts, and your cunt swallowing his cock again and again and again, his cheeks a rosy pink and a bead of sweat dripping from his brow.

You’re just too pretty, he can’t take it – how can he not immediately want to get something of his on you, staining your lovely skin and gorgeous face with his cum?

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE

Hair Pulling

But not on you – unless you like it, in which case he might consider but will only ever do it lightly. He doesn’t like causing pain in general, and would only be willing to do it in very specific scenarios – and even then, it will be as gently as he possibly can.

Rather, Shouta likes when you pull his hair – he doesn’t let most people touch it, and it’s a rare day that he actually runs a comb through it, so as a result his scalp is extremely sensitive. And so, when you tunnel your fingers through his dark locks and pull, Shouta audibly groans, the tingling pain sending pleasure racing down his spine.

There’s just something naughty about it – only you get to touch him like this, so only you get to run your fingers through his hair and tug at it.

He particularly likes when you pull it while he’s got his face between your legs. He likes how your fingers tunnel through it and scrape against his scalp, and he’ll often use it as an indicator of whether he’s doing a good job or not. If you pull often and hard, he knows he’s doing what he needs to do – he’ll keep the pace up and stay in that same spot, doing everything and anything in his power to keep you pulling at it, working through any pain in his jaw or tongue because he needs to make sure you’re feeling good even at his own expense.

When he’s got you perched on his face, your pretty thighs framing his head so that all he can smell and taste and feel is you, he likes to have you reach down and still pull lightly at the roots, your breasts squished together and nipples taut, the visual alongside your taste and the slight pain from his scalp making his eyes roll to the back of his head and precum dribble down his length.

When he’s hovering over you and thrusting into you, balls clapping against your ass and your legs wrapped around his waist, he likes to have you tug at his hair, moaning out and crying his name with each tug and letting his ego swell, each burst of light pain making his hips go harder, faster, deeper, anything to get you louder and clenching around him tighter.

Even when you’re just kissing – simple, innocent kisses full of smiles and his hands gripping you just ever so slightly, Shouta likes to have you running your hands through his hair and tugging lightly, keeping him on his toes and forcing his cock to life.

He just really, really likes to have you touch his hair – it’s something intimate and something he’ll only ever let you do, so really, you should count yourself lucky. Shouta sure does when he’s buried deep inside you, watching your face and feeling your hands in his hair as he gives you every last drop he has to offer.

Mirror Sex

In general, Shouta absolutely loves watching you in bed. He thinks you’re genuinely the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and when you’re gasping on his cock and moaning his name, you’re even prettier, even more breathtaking and lovely and perfect.

And while he prefers positions where he can see your face, he wants to be able to see your expressions always, even if he’s got you bent over while he presses his back to your chest and mounts you like some sort of wild animal.

And so, to solve this problem, Shouta invests in a modest, simple mirror that he keeps facing the end of your ‘shared’ bed – it’s roughly four feet tall and two feet wide, the perfect size so that when he’s got you on your hands and knees for him, your back arching and your arms threatening to give out, he can watch your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He’ll experiment with the pacing of his thrusts, going deeper and harder to see the way your brows scrunch up, how your jaw drops and the most depraved whine slips out of you, pride and arousal swelling in his chest because he made you make that noise.

He’ll go slower and keep his thrusts brushing against the spots that make you gasp just so that he can see the way your lips twitch.

He’ll speed up, fucking into you so fast that his balls slap lewdly against your ass, the noise filling the room alongside your pants and his groans, watching all the while how your eyes flutter and your back arches. He’ll sit you in his lap facing the mirror, spreading your legs and getting to work with his fingers curling and rubbing inside of you, a thumb circling your clit and his lips at your ear as he tells you to watch, pretty, see how good you look?

He’ll kiss a line from behind your ear, down your neck and over your shoulder, occasionally glancing up to the mirror to make sure you’re actively looking, whispering praises against your skin each time.

And he’ll bring you close to the mirror, too – sitting you only a foot away from the reflective surface, letting you get a nice view of Shouta’s favorite sight – your cunt, all spread out and wet, practically begging for something big, heavy, and throbbing to fill it, to stretch it out and make you see stars.

He’ll spread your lips, exposing your clenching hole, smiling at your reflection and making you tell him that you’re pretty, forcing you to grow comfortable with your body because he knows that it makes you insecure to see so much of yourself, and it drives him crazy.

He’ll even fuck you against the mirror – forcing you to watch your face from mere inches away, your hot breaths fogging up the glass, and he’ll make you come like that – holding your chin straight ahead and telling you to watch, sh-shit, watch, don’t take those fucking eyes off your face in a strained voice.

He just likes getting a good view of you during sex – you’re too pretty not to be seen, after all.  

BIGGEST FANTASY

In general, Shouta absolutely loves being intimate with you. While he’s no virgin, he doesn’t have an extensive amount of experience, and frankly he’s never been the biggest fan of sex – it’s too messy, too energy draining, and just a massive hassle.

However, when it’s with you, and when you moan his name just right and leave your nail marks down his back, Shouta will gladly strip his clothing at your beck and call, his lips already on yours before you can even finish your sentence.

And while he loves good, rough, passionate sex that’s full of smacking hips, gasps, moans and growls, there’s something to be said for slower, gentler sex, the kind that’s full of airy breaths and slow, meaningful kisses.

It’s the kind of sex where you can really feel him; every inch of him, the way his body covers yours as he hovers over you, the tickle of his hair against your jaw and neck as he buries his face in the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone, his hips rocking into yours and managing to grind against that one perfect spot that gets you sighing out a moan. It’s just more intimate this way, less of a wild, frantic race to get inside of you and more a slow, controlled love making, as embarrassed as he is to use to term.

Regardless, you’re most likely to get this type of sex from Shouta in two specific scenarios – the first of which being after a very long day, filled with a harrowing patrol where he maybe wasn’t able to save everyone, or things didn’t go according to plan. When this happens, he needs to just hold you, to feel you, to hear you whisper his name under your breath and tell him how good he feels, how he’s the best you’ve ever had, how he’s the only one you’ll ever want…

The second – and far more likely – scenario is in the early hours of the morning, when the sunlight is streaming into the modest apartment he keeps you in, your shared bed feeling warm with your bodies pressed against one another. Soft, sleepy morning sex is Shouta’s favorite, and something that he tries to incite as often as he possibly can.

There’s just something about it that gets him hot under the collar; maybe it’s the casualness of it all, the way it feels so natural, so human and so right, as if your bodies were made for each other. Maybe it’s the way it feels so intimate, like you’re both raw, yourselves in the most wonderful way.

Or maybe it’s the way you’re still just slightly sleepy, and you’re much more likely to be clingy at this time, touching him more and letting your real noises come out, not hindered by any shame or hate or embarrassment.

Regardless, Shouta loves it – so on the rare weekends where he’s off, expect to be woken up on the brink of an orgasm just as you deserve.

A yawn slips past Shouta’s lips, eyes peeling open and seeing the gray of his bedsheets. Everything is warm and soft, and as he shifts slightly, something moves next to him.

Nothing seems real for a few moments as he gazes down at you, your body curled up next to his own. It doesn’t feel real that you’re really here – in his bed without any clothing, happily sleeping without a care in the world. He swallows, something coming over him and moving him slowly – carefully – peel off the covers, moving down to where your legs slightly part.

He leans down, face mere inches away from the tufts of your pubic hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he inhales. You’re perfect – and as he gently pries your legs open further, Shouta can’t help but think of how often he’s fantasized about this very moment – how often he’s dreamt of what’s between your thighs, how he’d lay awake at night and press his fingers between two pillows, grinding his fingers against the cotton and pretending it was you, imagining how warm and wet you’d be for him.

He swallows, determination setting his brow as he lays onto his stomach, shuffling so that he can lightly lick at your inner thighs, eyes closing at the familiar taste of you. He takes his time, going slowly and softly, licking closer and closer to your pretty folds, eventually reaching them and licking his lips at the taste.

A thumb comes up to slowly press against your clit, knowing too much pressure would hurt and not warm your body up the way it needed. He continues his licks, before switching roles and starting to suckle at your clit as a finger dips between your folds, collecting the slick and rubbing it between his fingers.

Soon he’s pressing one inside, feeling the way your thighs twitch slightly, a small, sleepy moan ringing in his ears. God, you’re so damn perfect – even unconscious you’re enough to get his cock throbbing against the cotton sheets.

He keeps his pace slow, but as time passes you stir a bit, and when he hears your sleepy voice mumble out his name, Shouta curses, his fingers speeding up a bit.

That gets you more awake – soon your fingers are carding through his hair, sighs and murmurs of his name sounding like heaven.

“Mm, Shouta, that feels good…” You mumble, still dazed from waking up. Your hips are twitching now, a sign that the pleasure is slowly beginning to build.

Shouta groans against your cunt, the sound muffled.

Soon his fingers are picking up the pace again, his circles and licks at your clit growing more insistent, and the hands weaving through his hair start to tug – the sensation gets him humping at the bed for a moment, the morning glow still shining on you as he glances up at your face. You look like an angel – shining in the sunlight, your lips parted in a moan, head thrown back in pleasure.

Shouta pulls back for a moment, sending a kiss to your clit that makes your hips buck. He chuckles a bit, licking his lips.

“You’re so beautiful..” He whispers against your thigh, pressing open mouthed kisses against the skin. You hum at his compliment, and he watches as you smile, his breath practically punched out of his lungs.

“Shouta, you’re too good to me…” Your voice is soft, too, and soon he’s back to sucking at your clit, feeling the way your body jolts slightly, the pleasure making you sigh and swallow. He watches the movement of your throat.

“Feels good, mm yes, oh Shouta - just like that,” You start, eyes closed again, and Shouta finds himself abandoning the gentle pace he’d adopted, instead being more insistent, more pushy – suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get you coming on his fingers.

You gasp lightly at the new change in pace, grinding your hips to match the new stimulation, and it makes Shouta dizzy. How can you be so attractive? How can you look so perfect in this moment; in his bed, moaning his name, looking and tasting and smelling like his own personal slice of heaven?

It’s cheesy and he’s almost embarrassed, but tears prick at the corners of his eye.

Soon your gasps have turned to moans, and all too soon you warn him in a slurred voice that you’re coming, your back arching up off the mattress and your moans light and airy as you gush against his fingers, white coating all the way down his knuckles and onto his palms. It makes him choke a bit, the feeling of your cunt rhythmically clenching down on him and your chest heaving, and with a final lick to your clit that makes you jerk, he’s moving up to kiss you.

The kiss is slow, his tongue brushing against yours and wet sound filling the room, but Shouta doesn’t mind. How could he, when he’s never felt this relaxed before?

His eyes slowly open as he feels your fingers wrap around him, a thumb brushing along his tip to collect a bit of the wetness there.

“Shouta, let me make you feel good.” You tell him, your voice just a whisper.

He looks at you, his lips parted for a brief moment, before a small smile quirks up the corners of his mouth. “Why would you do that?”

You trace the line of his jaw with your free thumb. The slow strokes of his cock have him a bit distracted, but he hears every word you speak to him. “Because I love you.”

He swallows, the words making something feel tight in his throat.

You laugh a bit at his silence and the dumbstruck look on his face. “What? Do you not love me too?”

And to answer that, Shouta scoffs, leaning down to kiss you again as he grasps himself around the base, pulling himself away from you and pushing into you, feeling your sharp intake of breath against his lips.

His pace is slow, soft, like he’s trying to tell you something – hips moving slowly and deeply, letting you feel every inch of him. He kisses your neck as your head falls back, your eyes fluttering closed.

Pressing a kiss against your collarbone, Shouta smiles against your skin, a groan falling from his lips.

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

And he means it – you’ll don’t know half of the things he’s done for you, and as he squeezes at your breast and hears your soft moan, he knows he’ll never tell you.

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere aizawa #yandere eraserhead #bnha smut #mha smut #_bnha #_shouta aizawa #_lee's profiles

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Beauty in Innocence

Fred Weasley x reader

Requested by: @amathilofgondor

Request gist: Fred Weasley dating an adorable and innocent reader but he craves to destroy her in bed. He doesn't know how to present the idea of rough sex since they have only just started getting sexual.

A/N: Thanks for the request! For this fic, I didn't know whether you wanted the reader to be a virgin or not so I went for she’s not a virgin but still pretty innocent to things like different kinks and any sex that isn't vanilla. I also went down the route of the reader wanting Fred to teach her what he likes, that sort of thing. Also, in this fic the wizarding community have televisions and electronic devices. I've mentioned a pornographic video which will be in apostrophes.

T/W: Fred is a bit of a sex pest, brief mention of a Daddy kink, Fred maybe being a bit dark and dirty, attempted groping?, intense pornographic videos? (mentions of BDSM, pinching and spanking), Fred kinda uses her innocence to talk dirty (not like an insult but a bit mocking), nicknames, rough sex, mentions of corruption, unprotected sex, no aftercare (not a ‘Fred being mean’ thing)

Fred's girlfriend. The girl who surprised all of Fred’s friends when they first met her.

Fred was a dirty devil. He always had a crude joke or quip. At bars and clubs, he was always the first one to chat up any girl he saw. Poor George suffered the most (even giving him a silencing charm after having to hear a girl call him ‘Daddy’ through the walls of their shared flat).

And then there was you. Fred’s dirty quips had your cheeks red with blush. His dirty jokes had you squirming as if you'd never heard such a lewd joke before. Like an angel whose ears had never heard the likes of Fred Weasley.

Don't get me wrong, Fred’s friends and family adored the sweet girl on Fred’s arm just as much as he did. But Fred more than adored you.

He desired you.

The way you were so innocent drove him mad. The way you'd bat your eyelashes when he made a dirty remark, like a confused baby deer. He even loved how innocent you were during movie nights. He was driving himself mad.

A part of him felt guilty for wanting more. He didn't want you to think it was because you weren't enough. The truth was, Fred is insatiable. Even the tiniest moan from your lips had him as hard as stone. He kept thinking about your first time together. It was the opposite of what Fred was used to. It was…sweet. Filled with soft kisses and a loving embrace while he slowly pushed into you. As much as he loved those tender moments, he craved to hold you down and fuck that pussy that got so wet for him. He needed to hear those needy sounds you'd make.

He’d run out of patience. Everytime he tried to approach the conversations, he’d freeze up. One idea he had was when you were both cuddling on the sofa. His hands slowly moved from your waist. His lips brushed along the skin of your neck, his hand stroking your inner thigh. Your soft whines and squirms made him think that you weren't ready for what he wanted to do to you, causing his hands to slowly retreat.

Little did he know that you were curious about his blatantly obvious attempt at a conversation and wandering hands. You'd heard things from his friends about how sexually active he seemed to be prior to you and it made you curious about the sort of things that he was into. You wanted him to be the one to teach you, to show you this world of sexual depravity that he knew so well. Maybe it was a primal nagging in your head or just the desire for him to be happy in every aspect of your relationship.

Fred’s last ditch attempt to express his desires included the one thing he knew best: pornography. With his laptop in hand, he approached you in the bedroom.

“Hey love, I want to show you something, see what you think”

He put the laptop in front of you, showing a black screen. But when he pressed play, it was far beyond anything you ever expected him to show you.

‘The woman in the video was tied down to a bed, her arms to the headboard and her legs spread. With the woman blindfolded and naked, another pair of hands appeared from off screen. The hands pinched and slapped the woman's inner thigh, getting closer and closer to her twitching pussy’.

Fred kept his eyes on your reaction, watching how your cheeks got darker and your breathing got heavier, only things that he would notice within seconds. He figured that if he couldn't tell you what he wanted, he’d show you.

‘The hand’s trailed higher, spanking the woman's clit, making her jolt and yelp’.

Fred heard the breath you sucked in, his hopes rising that you'll enjoy it.

‘A man came into frame, getting between the womens open thighs. Teasing his tip through her folds, he thrusted his cock into the hilt. His hips were like pistons, not stopping for a second. No matter how much the woman moaned and squirmed, he kept fucking her now dripping hole’.

You looked up at Fred. At first, he was worried you’d ask him to turn it off or tell him that it looked too rough and harmful. But he swore he heard angels sing when that normally innocent, sweet voice asked the most heavenly words he’d ever heard.

“Can we try something like that?”

Fred’s grin practically doubled in size, his arms snaked around your waist. He kissed the shell of your ear before whispering softly.

“My sweet girl wants me to do something so dirty to her?”

The needy “Yes” you replied with made his heart beat faster. This was confirmation to take you like he needed, to ravage you, to break you down and rebuild you with little pieces of himself woven in. He closed the laptop and moved it to the nightstand before laying you down. He crawled up your body, stalking like a predator. His hands trailed up your outer thighs, pushing your nightie up to your abdomen.

His thumb found the seat of your underwear, smearing the wet patch that had formed.

“And here I thought my girl was innocent. You liked watching that dirty video, baby? Your wet little cunt seemed to enjoy it.”

Every slight buck of your hips, every whimper, every moan. He absorbed it all, watching with beady eyes as if he'd never see something so beautiful again.

Your pouty voice caught him off guard.

“Please Freddie, more”

And who was he to deny?

Ripping your underwear down your legs, he pushed your thighs open. All that restraint, all that time of treating you like a porcelain doll, was gone for a minute, leaving pure need and lust. He stared at your open pussy like an animal who had finally found the source of a delectable scent. He had to stop himself from salivating at such a perfect sight.

His hands moved to pull his cock out, leaving you with a mental message to keep your thighs open for him. He lined his cock up and stopped for a moment, looking up at you. It was like his demeanour shifted for a split second.

“If you need me to stop pretty girl, just tell me”

You gave him a usual sweet smile and a nod, finding it heartwarming that he was still a sweetheart even in such an intimate moment.

He slowly pushed in, bottoming out and taking a minute to bask in your warmth surrounding him. When his hips started moving, he set a pace that you weren't used to. It was faster, his hips slapping against yours. The band in your stomach felt like it was tightening faster than usual.

“How can such a sweet girl be so dirty? Maybe i've corrupted you, angel”

His dirty words were new to your ears, but they caused you to clench around him. They only drove you closer and closer to a feeling you didn't know you craved so much. His hand came down to rub your clit in messy circles, and that's all it took.

Your moans filled the room and your walls pulsated around him, cumming harder than you had before. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, staving off his own orgasm. Your body trembled beneath him, arms reaching for his comfort, which he gave without a second thought.

Fred wasn't going to last much longer, so he pulled out and used his hand, stroking himself at the same pace he had fucked you. Spurts of his cum painted your stomach until he was spent. He laid himself down next to you after wiping your stomach clean, the both of you trying to catch your breath. He stroked your arm, keeping his eyes on your face for any signs of discomfort. You turned to lay on your side, snuggling into him.

“Can we do that again soon, Freddie?”

His corrupted angel was full of surprises.

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley fic

[railingsofsorrow]

hiii could i request a cute lil fic of the origin of spencer’s purple scarf? maybe reader is in the bau too and they’re secretly dating and maybe for their one month she gives him the purple scarf cuz she notices turtle necks bother him so she opted to get something that warms him up, is his favorite color, and reminds him of her if there’s ever a change they’re apart ….

he loves it ofc and starts wearing it to work and the team realizes it’s his thing now to wear the scarf if he’s cold and the reader feels all happy cuz he likes it but maybe during a tough case reader gets hurt protecting the team and in the hospital he’s like fidgeting with the scarf and morgan asks what’s up and he’s like “y/n gave me this scarf she said it would remind me of her if we’re ever apart but i don’t ever want to be away from her” AND IT ENDSS IN FLUFF PLS TJANK UUUU

maybe a cute lil recovery scene where the reader is cold and he gives her the scarf to wrap around her neck mwahhahaha and some team comments mwahahhhaha

Purple Scarf

[spencer reid x reader]

A/N: can I just say how in love with this request I was when I saw it my heart BURST. hope I granted your wishes anon <3

summary: in which yours and spencer's secret relationship is not as secret as you thought it was.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 3.5K

warnings/content: allusions to sexual content (you blink and you miss it); cm usual violence and confrontation; mentions of blood, hospitals and injuries; angst; teasing; fluff fluff fluff.

navi

masterpost

[requested]

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°. *࿐

September 8 of 2007.

Day 30.

It's officially a month that you and Spencer are dating. More specifically 720,000 hours, 43,200 minutes and 2,592,000 seconds — Yes, he counted. It's not that surprising, his brain never stops.

“Did you finish Dandelion Wine last night again?”

Unless it's your voice. That angelic sound slipping out from your throat that resembled the A Major key in a piano; a warm blanket draping over him that soothed his mind to a less frantic place.

The way your lips curl in a smile tells him you're not phased by his nod of affirmation. Leaning on his desk with your hip, you place down his mug in front of him, coffee vapor fluttering out.

“I'm not surprised.”

His grin is hidden by sipping on the hot liquid. “Why would you be?”

“Right.”

Spencer wanted to kiss you. He'd be bashful and red at the mere thought of it a few months ago, a complete mess if your gaze so much as crossed. But he's known you for two years now, you've been friends since you entered the BAU, and he's been in love with you for half of that time. He's allowed to think that in a work environment. He's just not allowed to do it.

He's very inclined to break the rules when he feels cold fingers running through the nape of his neck. Spencer's instinctive reaction is to shrink his shoulders but he quickly relaxes.

“Don't know how you can even think about cutting it,” you say, pulling softly at his strands.

He gave you a look. “It's too long.”

“So?” you shrug. “It's pretty,” you traced her thumb across his jaw, halting on his cheek. “You're pretty.”

He doesn't know how to react to compliments first thing in the morning. Scratch that, he doesn't know how to react to compliments at all.

“You're prettier.”

“That's not possible.”

And he's about to shut you up with a kiss because frantically? How could you disagree with him on this. But you retract your hands and pull some space between you. His hurt expression isn't present for long until he notices where your gaze falls.

Derek is talking to someone behind the glass doors, his hand wavering over the entrance announcing that the conversation is ending.

Your relationship being a secret was a mutual decision. None of you wanted the attention or the teasing that would eventually come from your friends — not that that didn't occurred before. Less alone the issues with the Fraternization Policy, they'd rather leave that to the fine line in Morgan and Garcia's work calls.

“Don't cut it.” She nudges his arm. “How am I supposed to pull it?”

Spencer choked on his coffee, inciting a chuckle out of you as you rubbed his back gently. He blinked up at you in shock.

“What?”

“Great scarf. Love the color.”

He officially hates you. Yes.

Except that he doesn't. Not even a little bit.

Your menacing smile is the last thing he sees before you walk off to Penelope's office. Of course you love it, you gave it to him as one month anniversary gift that morning, while he had given you a book you've been mentioning for a while and a necklace with your birthstone in the pendant.

“I know turtlenecks bother you but I know you get cold easily so I thought you'd like it.” Spencer hadn't given you a reaction. From the moment he opened your gift box, he sat emotionless on the sofa, staring at it as his fingers stroked the soft fabric.

It was a handknit purple scarf. Spencer couldn't believe it. You made it yourself. He vaguely remembers you always knitting something in the jet when a case was over, he thought you had adopted a new hobby, not that you were doing this for him.

And in his favorite color.

He felt like crying upon seeing the S.W.R on one of the extremities. His initials.

“You didn't like it.”

His head snapped up and he's met with your uneasy gaze. He hadn't said anything.

Spencer crossed the room in a sprint and crashes your lips to his, you respond with a ooof! in surprise but quickly kisses him back just as fervently.

“I love it.” He says after you split apart. “It's the best gift I've ever gotten.” He keeps peppering your face with kisses which makes giggles to erupt out of you. “Thank you, thank you, sweetheart.”

“It's for you to remember me when we're apart.” Her cheeks flushed pink. “That was cheesy but I knitted it that so I get to be cheesy.”

Spencer fiddled with the soft fabric of his scarf, loosening it slightly. It was suddenly too warm.

He blames you for it.

The two of you were supposed to spend the rest of the day in a Contemporary Art Museum after your paperwork was done. You weren't called in for a case, so it was a last minute decision because of your hectic schedule.

“Why are you all flushed?” He turns to Derek with widened eyes.

“What?”

Derek narrowed him down suspiciously. Hotch interrupts them by calling them in for the conference room. Spencer inwardly groans but he takes it to slip away from Derek's pestering.

“Oh, that's beautiful.” JJ points at your neck as you meet in the roundtable. “Where did you get it?” Your fingers brushed against the necklace mindlessly, the edge of your lips quirking up slightly.

“It's a gift.”

JJ silently studied your features as you say down beside one another, waiting for Garcia to present the new case. That fond gaze, the sparkle in your eyes and the way your body demeanor instantly relaxed was the indication she needed to understand what you weren't saying.

“Oh,” her grin widened and she leans closer. “Who's the lucky someone?”

Your eyes lowered to your lap and you tried to pretend you were interested in your shoes. She could see you getting flustered and that made her shook her head in disbelief. JJ has never seen you that shy or even blushing. That was new.

Spencer walked in with Derek and Emily on his trail. They started discussing the case when Rossi arrived. You didn't spend ten minutes in the room before Hotch announced wheels up in thirty.

“Did you know that poor sleeping habits can interfere in your sleep quality? A study showed that daily coffee consumption and using the cellphone in bed are two of the largest factors associated with poor sleep quality. Besides stress, anxiety, depression, sleep apnea, and chronic health conditions.”

Spencer rambles on before you can settle down in one of the seats, covering a yawn with your hand.

“I'm glad you know too much caffeine is bad for your health, baby. Maybe you should follow your own advice.” You heard his snicker as he sits down with a smug smile. You chose the window seat, Emily takes your side and Derek sits across from you. Rossi and Hotch are in the seats beside yours while JJ takes the couch.

The air shifts. You feel it. It's sudden, out of nowhere and you can't figure out the reason. All eyes are set on you which makes you shift uncomfortably, sleepiness vanishing.

“What?”

“Baby?” Derek lifts a brow questioningly and you cast him a confused look. But Spencer buried his face in the file and all is clear.

“You have petnames now?” Emily teases, nudging your feet with her shoe. “That's sickening.”

“That's cute!” Penelope yells from the computer scream.

You clear your throat in a foolish attempt for cover your embarrassment. You called him baby in front of the whole team? Nice. Very nice. You stupid idiot.

“It's manner of speaking,” You shrug, grabbing the crime scene photo haphazardly.

Emily quips back a comment and Derek follows her on it. Fortunately, Hotch begins to detail what everyone else will do as they land. JJ and Reid are going to the morgue to analyse Victmology, Rossi and Emily are going to the police station and that leaves you Hotch to the crime scenes.

It took a while for you to grasp the UnSub's intentions. You spent the entire afternoon with the wrong profile to then figure out he was hunting people that had a certain face shape and visible scars. Nothing related to gender, contrary to what you believed.

When you found him, he had a knife to a woman's neck, the last victim that had disappeared two days ago. Apparently you got there exactly on time because he kept his victims for two days to bury them alive in the last one.

But he didn't want to let her go, despite the ensuing confrontation. Either he surrendered or he died, there was no in between. You wouldn't let him hurt anybody else.

“Let her go.”

Aaron's assertive tone reverberated through the warehouse. The SWAT team was blocking every exit possible, at least twenty firearms aimed at him but he still wouldn't budge.

“Can't do that,” the UnSub lowered the knife closer to the victim's neck. He seemed too calm for someone that cornered. No. You could see the slight shake in his hand that he was trying to cover. “You get back from where you came from or I'll slash her throat.”

“You won't do that.”

For some reason, you thought it was Emily speaking, attempting to get into his head. Until Derek hissed for you to stay back and you realized the voice belonged to you.

“You can get out of this, just let her go and surrender. No harm has to be done.”

“Right. So that I can spend the rest of my life tossed up behind bars? I don't think so, Agent.”

The smugness in his tone was betrayed by the twitch in his left eye and that's when you knew you were almost there.

“We can make a deal. One that'll be comfortable for you,” you promised, stowing your weapon in your holster as your eyes kept locked on his. You didn't want to find out what would happen if you even breath the wrong way. “There's twenty people with you in their line of fire. Only one way out. Let her go, we'll figure this out.” You finally reached a position close enough to the victim but not at all safe for you. You were right at his aim if he wanted to shoot you, his gun right behind the woman's head.

“Only one way out?” He scoffed, cocking the weapon to the side.

Emily said his name in a warning. Everyone yelling for him to drop the weapon. He didn't.

You should've known better.

Your ears rang with Spencer calling out your name before you were thrown on the floor roughly without a single warning. The feeling of dread crippling in your chest when you felt something wet between your fingers.

“Hey, hey,” Derek forced you to look at him. “You okay?”

You blinked down at your arm, the bullet grazed the skin, it barely touched you. A breath of relief escaped you and he shook his head in disbelief.

“You're insane,” he uttered, hugging you to which you let out a groan. Your shoulder hurt, you couldn't move it.

At least it wasn't a bullet. Derek had pushed you away on time.

•°. *࿐

The thing you hated the most about hospitals was the fluorescent lights. Your eyes were sensitive to light which was the reason you used sunglasses anywhere you went — reading glasses as well, but you didn't bother with those. No matter how many times Spencer would list the permanent harm done to your sight every time he saw you squinting at a book.

You were stubborn. To say the least.

He thought it was cute, for the most part. You listened to him although you liked to do things you own way. Okay, he respected that. Spencer loves every part of you, from the scrunch of your nose when you laughed to the rare times you'd forget the wet towel on the bed.

Sometimes, however, he wants to crawl out of his skin. How could you let your guard down in front of a madman that was ready to lose it all? Why couldn't you just stay back like Derek had asked and waited patiently on how it would play out?

But no, you wouldn't do that. You were as stubborn as a mule. And that's how you got shot in the arm and dislocated a shoulder.

“It grazed her forearm, Spence.” JJ explained for the tenth time. “She just needed some stitches.”

“But it wasn't just the grazed arm, though was it? There's also the dislocated shoulder and the almost concussion she gained as she fell on the floor.”

JJ sighed and turned to him. “You're concerned, but she's fine. It wasn't exactly wise what she did,” she said with a wince. “But it's done and thankfully didn't evolved to anything serious.”

“She reminds me of you.”

Both heads snapped around to see Derek approaching with his coffee. He pointed the plastic spoon he was stirring the coffee with directly at Spencer's face.

“What does that mean?” Spencer pulls away from the threatening spoon, the pitch of his voice raising.

Derek looks at JJ with a pointed look, she seems to understand and chuckles, nodding shortly.

Oh, they're communicating through telepathy now?

“You're both reckless.” Derek pats his shoulder, mentioning for something behind him. Just as Spencer is about to retort, he sees you through the transparent doors of your room, chuckling at something the doctor said. “See? She's awake.”

Spencer can't tell how long he stood there, staring at you until JJ nudged him.

“I've never seen you wearing scarves. Is that new?” She eyes the purple fabric around his neck with a little smile. His fingers brush against it absentmindedly.

“Uh, yeah. It's a gift. She gave it to me.” JJ blinks up at him in surprise, she was not expecting Spencer to just blurt it out like that. “... said it was something to remember her when we're apart.” His lips spread into a soft grin. He didn't even notice he was speaking out loud. “As if I can ever forget her.”

“Go see your girl, pretty boy. Stop staring.” Derek walked back towards them, pushing Spencer towards your room with a slight shove. Safe to say he hadn't heard anything Spencer said.

At first, JJ tries not to demonstrate her excitement too much. She thought that when Penelope told her they were seeing each other out of work it was a big fantasy created in her head. Everyone knew they had feelings for one another but nobody would dare think they were already past the friends phase. Oh, but JJ was so wrong. That fondness in Spencer was something new. A good something. And she couldn't be happier for the two of you.

“Hi,” you beam at the sight of your boyfriend entering the room.

“Hi.” Spencer kisses the top of your head and wraps an arm around your back as to not touch your injured arm. “How do you feel?”

“Ready to enter the jet and sleep the two hours we have until we land in Quantico.”

He cracks a smile, shaking his head. “You're unbelievable.”

You let out a half laugh, when your eyes met you saw a pinch of concern between his brows as he scanned you over.

“Spencer, I'm fine.”

“Can you maybe try and be more careful next time?” He says. “Don't lower your weapon while being on the aim of a serial killer?”

You hummed softly, adjusting the collar of his shirt behind the vest he was wearing. “Okay. Can you promise to do the same then? Cause you're just as reckless as me.”

He gaped at you. “I am not—”

“Spencer.”

He clips his mouth shut, blinking. “Fine? Okay. Yeah, fine.” He breathes out. “Just don't scare me like that again, please?” He pointedly says, brushing a stray strand behind your ear.

Your line of work was tough, especially if someone you deeply cared about was in the field with you. You couldn't just disconnect work and personal life in these kind of situations, as hard as you tried. Your heart leaped in your chest every time anyone from the team so much as got a minimum scratch. They're your family through and through.

And Spencer... Spencer was the love of your life. No doubt in that.

That's why it wasn't worth it to dwell on what happened in the field but focus on the after. Night outs to a bar, karaoke night, dinner at Rossi's — he makes a killer pasta — or, in this case, an Art Museum date with your boyfriend. Those moments made everything worth it.

The air shifts again. You study the room as you sit beside Spencer, trying to find any hints from what it might have caused that feeling. But everyone is paying attention to their own things and things seems normal. Or your profile skills are clouded by your exhaustion.

Something fuzzy wraps around your neck and the smell of amber and cinnamon took you to a familiar place.

“You forgot to bring a coat,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ears gently, adjusting the scarf on you. “It looks good on you too.” He shrugs, lips curling in a pout.

Can you blame yourself for wanting to kiss him so badly?

You don't do it, aware you were under profilers’ watchful eyes. Spencer lifted the arm of the seat so you could rest your head on his shoulder as he read — one time you revealed you liked the sound of page turning as he read and he made sure you always could rest against him. You might have missed the collective cooing around the jet as soon as you fell asleep but Spencer didn't and he tried to hide the tinge of red in his cheeks behind the book.

“Pay up.” Derek ordered with his hand outstreched to Emily, who promptly slapped it.

“You don't know how long.”

“My bet was that they were already seeing each other.”

“That's not fair,” Rossi chipped in. “We didn't established a period of time.”

Derek shrugs, “Not my problem. I won either way.”

“Penelope said the same thing.”

“Well, then babygirl and I won—”

“We still need a time.” Emily said thoughtfully, giving Derek his money with a huff. “This is extortion, Morgan.”

He chuckled, waving the twenty dollar bill in front of her. JJ rolled her eyes at the childishness. At the end, Derek had earned sixty bucks between grumblings of unfairness.

“When do you think?” Hotch broke the conversation, eyes not even lifting from his reports. Emily asked him what he was talking about. “I'd say that it became official in about a month.” He hadn't participated in the bet, but he could share a thing or two on the topic. God knows how long you you two have been pinning over each other.

Rossi narrowed his eyes at him, suspiciously, “You know something we don't, Aaron?”

“Just mere assumptions.”

It didn't take long for another bet to ensue. When the jet landed, each one stretched their limbs and prepared to go home, before anyone could move towards the exit, however, Spencer broke the silence.

“Hotch is right.” He said, grabbing both of your go-bags and following you out of the door.

“Did he just?” Emily froze half way standing up.

“That little shit.”

He didn't hold back the chuckle as a faint argument started.

“What are you laughing at?” You glance at him at the corner of your eye. He brushes you off, pulling you at his side by wrapping a hand around your waist. “Are you aware they can see us or...?” You queried, confused at his actions.

Spencer shrugs, kissing your temple. “They know.”

You bury your nose in the scarf and lean into his side, not even daring to ask what he means by that and neither do you look back at your friends. You'd rather face the teasing in the morning anyway.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #requested #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

Something He Likes (M) pt. 2

The second part to the eighth and final part of the Pathetic series

Summary: Jeonghan and y/n are finally together. But what does being together mean for them?

This part is 31k which was too much for tumblr???? Because it was over 1000 blocks??? So it's split into two parts being released at the same time IM SORRY. Alexa play Hate Rodrigo by Yena

Warnings: Dubcon as always, let’s do this one more time: dom!jeonghan, sub!y/n, masochist!jeonghan, sadist!yn, lots of public play and I mean a lot okay, Jeonghan is a tease, degradation, dacryphilia, creampies, slight teeny tiny breeding kink if you squint at one part, pet play??? Like it’s not but he calls her a bitch and makes her bark idk what you want me to call that, cunnilingus, fingering, rough sex, mean!jeonghan, references to y/n being a toy and other demeaning things in a sexual manner (but like at this point we all know this right), praise!kink if you squint, the l-bombs in this one are crazy, jealousy from both sides, possessiveness from both sides, unprotected sex as always, bimbification? (yn is fucked dumb)

-

This is part TWO of the eighth part of the pathetic series make sure you read this before you read what is below:

-

He was too cruel during dinner, you didn’t even try to pretend like you were interested in the conversation. You knew you looked sick to his classmate. You didn’t even remember the classmate's name. You barely touched your food. Jeonghan messed relentlessly with the vibrations (albeit when you squeezed his thighs and mumbled a soft please, he gave you a good fifteen-minute break before resuming the edging).

His classmate ended the dinner early out of concern for you. Jeonghan put on a show of looking concerned when his classmate mentioned how red you were. He touched the back of his hand to your forehead.

“Are you okay baby? You should have told me you weren’t feeling well.”

Before finally, you two were free.

When you got back to your apartment with Jeonghan, your fingers were clutching so hard at his wrist that you thought it was going to leave bruises. Your cheeks were bright red and the toy was still buzzing away inside of you at it’s lowest setting that still felt like it was going to make you explode at any second.

All you wanted to do was get inside, get this dumb toy out of you and finally be rewarded for having been so good all day. You were desperate. You needed this. And so when you finally fumbled your front door open and Jeongyeon and Jimin were standing in the living room you wanted to cry.

“Y/n!” Jeongyeon exclaimed excitedly. You gave her a tired smile.

“Jeongyeon!” You said back, trying to match her enthusiasm but failing miserably. Jeonghan nodded his greeting towards Jeongyeon and Jimin.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jeongyeon asked, her excitement turning to concern the moment that she got a good look at you. You nodded.

“I’m just… Tired. Long day,” you replied. It wasn’t in any way shape or form a lie, but you knew that Jeongyeon could tell there was more to it. You gave her a look.

“Well,” she said, turning to Jimin. “We were just going out, but we should all go on a double date soon.”

She wiggled her eyebrows excitedly and you nodded.

“Yeah, that would be fun,” you agreed, extremely relieved to hear that Jimin and Jeongyeon were leaving. The idea that they would be there all night would have made you crazy.

You thought that you all said more to each other. Were vaguely aware of Jeonghan and Jimiin exchanging some words but before you could really register any of it, the two were locking the door behind them.

You let the tears that you had been holding back freely run down your cheeks as you turned all your attention to Jeonghan.

“Please, please, please,” you begged emptily. “I can’t do it anymore Jeonghan, I’ve been so good. I n-need so badly- I-I- need you so badly.”

Jeonghan didn’t look like he really felt bad for you. Instead he cooed at you lightly.

“Are you sorry baby?” He asked you lightly. “Do you understand what being bad gets you?”

You honestly didn’t even remember why you were being punished today. You didn’t really care.

“I’m s-sorry, won’t do it again I p-promise,” you assured. Your skin was burning. “Please Jeonghan fuck me. Please really fuck me. I need you so badly. I-I need to come s-so badly.”

“I know you do,” Jeonghan replied softly. He scooped your cheeks in his hands and pressed a light kiss to your lips. “You did so perfectly for me, you know that?”

You nodded, but it was just kind of automatic. Jeonghan lowered his hands to the hem of your skirt and then turned you around, bending your body over the back of the couch. He pulled off your panties which were damp from the little bit of cum that had dripped out of your pussy around your toy. He tugged at the toy so that it was almost completely out of you and then, pushed it back in. You let out a wrecked sob.

“Pl-Please I c-can’t-“

Jeonghan cooed sympathetically and pulled the toy from out of you, causing his cum to drip down your tighs. He pressed a few fingers into you experimentally.

“You know, I really like you like this,” he said softly. “So wet, and stretched out from being used all day.”

The phrasing made your whole body arch. God why wouldn’t he just shut up and fuck you already?

Just as you were thinking that, you heard Jeonghan unzipping his pants, and then you could feel his fat tip teasing your hole. When finally Jeonghan slid his cock into you, you felt like you could cry in relief.

Okay, you did cry in relief. Your wrists were grabbed practically instantly as Jeonghan began to fuck into you, his thrusts quick and desperate. He hadn’t bothered to take his jeans off, a clear indication that he felt bad about teasing you so much all day.

You could feel the denim brushing against you with each thrust, and each thrust was so hard it had your whole body shaking. You could tell that Jeonghan was desperate for an orgasm too. The sadist in him loving the sounds of your moans mixed with sobs so much that it wasn’t long before he had tugged you up by one arm, his fingers fiddling with your clit-

“You can come, you’ve been such a good girl for me.”

You came immediately and as soon as your orgasm racked through you Jeonghan was coming too, spilling cum deep inside of you. His thrusts came to a stop as you fell limp against the couch, your heavy pants filling the living room.

Jeonghan pulled away from you and stood back, probably watching as his cum dribbled out of you. You let him stand there for a little while, but not long. You whined, loudly, garnering his attention back to you.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. He came up behind you, pulling your body so that you were flat against him. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You didn’t protest as he showered you. Mostly because you were too tired to, and you didn’t feel truly relaxed until you two were lying in your bed, Jeonghan’s arms wrapped around your body, holding you close to him.

“Are you really okay?” He asked for what felt like the millionth time. “Sometimes it worries me that you never safe word-“ His voice was light. He knew that you would safe word if you really needed to. “You were very good for me. Don’t think anyone knew all day that I was playing with my little toy.”

He turned you around in his arms and you drearily pried your eyes open to look at him. A small smile on your lips.

“Felt good,” you whispered back. “Feels good to be good for you. Like being able to do whatever you want me to.”

“Would you do it again?” Jeonghan asked. You let your eyes flutter shut.

“Not as long,” you murmured. “Shorter.”

“Okay,” he whispered. You heard him shuffling closer to you, one of his hands coming to your hair. He brushed his fingers lightly through your strands but the attention made you whine. You turned onto your back, but he was still able to mess with your hair at that angle.

Your shoulder brushed against Jeonghan’s your chest rising and falling as you fought, still, to catch your breath. You could feel him moving closer to you, felt his fingers brushing against yours, and the feeling had your mind buzzing despite how exhausted you were.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you tried to focus less on Jeonghan and more on your breathing. When you finally thought that you were calm. Normal. You opened your eyes and Jeonghan was staring at you with an odd expression on his face.

“Let’s break up.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. You hated how even now he was so difficult to read. His eyes were staring at you, wide with so many emotions that you couldn’t pinpoint in them. You couldn’t help the frown that pressed itself across your face.

“Really?” You finally said, after what was probably minutes of silence.

Jeonghan’s eyebrows furrowed a bit at your reaction.

“Yes.”

You stared at him. Again, his expression was unwavering and you should feel worried but for some reason you weren’t.

“No.”

Jeonghan hummed.

“So what? You’re just going to make me keep dating you? For however long you want to?”

His voice was serious, and yet… You could almost swear that you heard a jesting tone in it.

“I guess,” you replied pointedly. Jeonghan chuckled and rolled over to meet your gaze.

“I love you, y/n,” he mumbled. “What do you think… You love me yet?”

Your face reddened at the topic of conversation but before you could reply at all Jeonghan was tapping you on your cheek lightly.

“I’m just teasing you,” he said softly. He shrugged. “I just wanted to see how you were feeling about this relationship I guess.”

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“You were teasing me?” You blurted. “About breaking up?”

Jeonghan laughed as if that wasn’t a bit psychotic.

“Well, now I kind of want to,” you replied, but the smile on your lips was very telling at the fact that you were joking. Jeonghan hummed, and tugged you closer to him.

“And what would you do then? Would you go date someone else?”

“Oh yeah. I think that Minhyuk would love to go on a date with me. And he probably wouldn’t tease me about breaking up.”

Jeonghan made a disgruntled noise at the mention of someone who actually wanted to go on a date with you, and he pressed the palm of his hand to your face.

“What happened to the y/n who was sleepy?” He asked you. You laughed a little, but the darkness that the palm of his hand brought you reminded your body that you really were absolutely exhausted.

“I guess for now you still have a girlfriend,” you murmured. You turned on your side, burying your face into Jeonghan’s chest.

“Trust me y/n, I would never dare to let someone as perfect as you slip away.”

-

It was getting to that point where waking up without Jeonghan around was weird.

You had always worried about getting into that type of relationship with someone.

Where waking up without them was more painful than anything else in that moment.

You pushed down the feeling- As far down as you could get it- And went about your morning as you usually did. You showered, got dressed. There was a slight deviation to your morning. A small good morning text that made you pause, and brought a smile to your face.

“Oh I know that look,” Jeongyeon teased, brushing past you, with a small poke to your side. You rolled your eyes at her, typing a quick good morning back before joining her in the kitchen.

“How’s school been going lover girl.”

“Don’t call me that,” you mumbled. “I’m such a bad girlfriend it’s ridiculous.”

Jeongyeon’s laugh was light, but sympathetic.

“Come on, that’s not true.”

You waved off the conversation topic.

“How are you and Jimin?” You asked.

Jeongyeon hummed.

“Going,” she replied. She rolled her eyes slightly. “We had our first big fight. But I like how we resolved it.”

The thought of fighting with Jeonghan sent a shiver through your body. You couldn’t imagine him being mad at you. You wonder what he would do. You knew how he punished you when he wasn’t mad at you. When it didn’t matter.

But then again, you weren’t always great at reading his emotions. Maybe he had been mad at you before but you just hadn’t noticed.

You thought about it again for a few seconds.

No. He was too frustratingly patient and understanding towards you. There was no way that you had angered him so early on. At least you had that going for you.

“I’m glad you two resolved it well.”

You lazily rested your cheek on the palm of your hand as you watched Jeongyeon fall into the routine of making the two of you eggs for breakfast. Watching her cook reminded you of Mingyu and his cooking. It had been a while since you stayed the night at Alpha Mu.

Without really thinking over it too much you pulled out your phone and sent Jeonghan a text.

Can I stay over tonight?

Jeonghan’s response was immediate.

You miss me?

You rolled your eyes.

I miss Mingyu’s cooking.

Jeonghan didn’t reply but you knew that the answer was a resounding yes.

Jeongyeon set a plate of food down in front of you, to which you smiled at her and thanked her.

“I think that I’m going to be staying at Jeonghan’s place tonight,” you said. Jeongyeon hummed.

“I’ll probably have Jimin over then.”

You two fell into a soft conversation after that, catching up on what you two had been up to and how class had been going. You and Jeongyeon didn’t spend as much time together now, and you almost never seemed to be home at the same times but that didn’t mean you two didn’t hang out at all. You two still caught lunch together. There were moments on the weekend. And every morning that you were both home you two had breakfast.

And that being said, your days had changed a bit too. You texted Jeonghan quite a bit during the day, given that he was a bit clingy. He always wanted to know what you were doing, and how class was going, and if you were studying with Yeongtae and if he could come join you.

It was always a phone call where you sounded like a mother chiding their toddler: You’ll see me in a few hours. Just wait until then.

And then of course the minute you came over, in front of the others, he was always so quiet. Acted as if he could care less if you were there or not.

-

Your eyebrows furrowed as you squinted at the paper in front of you, unsure of really what you could add to make this round out a bit better.

“Maybe we should add more examples,” your partner Zen suggested. You hummed at the suggestion.

“You don’t think we have too many?” You murmured. “I mean how many popular examples of bipolar disorder can we really add?”

Zen groaned at the question, letting his head drop onto the table.

“I don’t know,” he insisted. “I’m not a psychology major like you. How else are we supposed to fluff up this paper? We are just short of eight pages.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip in thought. How were you two going to add more to this paper? You were about to propose something when suddenly you felt a hand on the back of your neck, a thumb pushing at your chin to turn your head.

Your eyes were still focused on your paper as you were dragged into a kiss, and you only turned your attention fully to your boyfriend when his other hand came to your cheek, forcing your full attention to the kiss. Your face was burning red when you were finally released from the kiss, and your eyes flickered up to meet Jeonghan’s smug smile.

“Really?” You asked him, your eyes flickering over to Zen who, to his credit, was pretending to be focused on the paper again and not the full-out pornographic makeout session that he had practically had to watch. Jeonghan pouted.

“What? I missed my girlfriend. Can’t I greet you the way that I want to?”

You didn’t miss the way that his voice raised a little at my girlfriend.

You tried to control the burning of your face as Jeonghan pulled out a chair next to you.

“I thought you were going to wait outside for me,” you mumbled softly. Jeonghan sighed, his fingers tapping against the table.

“You’re late,” he replied. A quick glance at the time and you saw that he was right. How had you and Zen gone twenty minutes over what you to had originally planned. “And I won’t be distracting. I’ll just sit here.”

You looked up at Zen who was now openly watching you two closely. You could see the pain in his eyes but you knew that it stemmed from the fact that twenty minutes over meant that you two had been at this for over twenty minutes now, and the paper was due in two days.

“I wasn’t made for these kind of working conditions,” Zen insisted. “Mental disorders and their impact on societal interactions was supposed to be an easy credit.”

“Why didn’t you just take a different creative elective,” you admonished him. “Like a writing class.”

Zen’s expression turned deadly serious.

“You want me to take a class where they tell me how to write?” He asked, as if it was the most abdominal thing he had ever heard. “Writing classes are so stupid because writers don’t know how to grade based on the way you write. Like all writers write differently, but they want you to write just like them for a semester. No. Thank you.”

Zen yanked the computer over to him and his eyes scanned what you two had written.

“And yet here I am. Writing for a psychology elective.”

“Let’s focus more on the impact that it had on the people around them,” you suggested. “We talked about Carrie Fisher let’s talk about how fans took it, or if it made it harder for people to work with her on set.”

Zen’s mouth dropped into an ‘o’ and he scooted closer to you so that he could scroll back to that section of the paper. As he did Jeonghan’s hand fell onto your thigh, his head coming to a rest on your shoulder.

“My smart girl,” he mumbled softly. The praise sent warmth through you but you tried your best to ignore him.

“Add right there,” you said softly, pointing to a spot on the paper. Zen obediently added some space to the document and then immediately went to go find an article you two could read on the topic. As you two were reading, Jeonghan was getting progressively more bored. He shifted his head back and forth on your shoulder until you raised a hand to his hair and began to soothingly rub circles into his scalp.

That only sated him for about five minutes. Then he decided that he had been waiting for you for too long. His hand crept further up your thigh, and his thumb began to rub lazy circles around your clit through your underwear. You shivered under his touch, both grateful and regretting the easy access that your skirt allowed him.

“Are there any interesting words in your paper?” Jeonghan asked you, clearly asking if you needed to safe word. You pressed your lips together and shook your head.

“No words of interest. I’ll let you know if I think of one you would like,” you murmured back. He hummed back in response. Pleased.

You all fell into silence as you and Zen focused back in on your work, Jeonghan finding pleasure in playing with your clit while you two added to your paper. The teasing was thrilling, of course. You loved it when Jeonghan played with you. Especially like this. In a way that wasn’t overtly obvious in public. In a way that was easy to keep down. And you loved the way it made you feel like you were just something he could play with whenever he wanted to.

Jeonghan sunk a finger into you and you had to momentarily bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from making any noise.

“Do you think this sentence sounds okay?” Zen asked you softly. You forced yourself to focus on what he had just typed and then nodded.

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” you agreed softly. You two were almost done with the paper. You had hit your page goal now. All you had to do was add a little bit to finish off the thoughts you two had added and you were done. Zen had already offered to edit it before turning it in tonight since he had a lot more writing experience than you did.

You spoke out some sentences that you wanted Zen to add, surprised by how even your voice stayed. Jeonghan didn’t go easy on you as you spoke. Instead he seemed to have gotten bored of how well you were hiding the way that you were soaking his fingers. He pressed three fingers into you and his lazy pace that you accossiated with sheer boredom was replaced by something more deliberate. He curled his fingers inside of you, trying to get a rise out of you. You ignored him, but then just as you went to speak again Jeonghan had smashed his finger into your clit, forcing a gasp out of you. Zen gave you a concerned look which you waved off.

“Embarrassed by all the pda,” you said lightly. Zen seemed to take that but Jeonghan hadn’t eased up during the interaction. He pumped his fingers in and out of you fast, clearly trying (and succeeding thus far) to drag you to an orgasm. You mentally fought against it, trying to hold back but you knew that if you weren’t careful your fingers digging into your palms would give away what Jeonghan was doing.

Then Zen’s elbow accidentally brushed your warm skin and you very quickly, quietly murmured your safe word. Jeonghan’s fingers immediately stopped inside of you, and he pulled his fingers, very carefully out of you.

Your breathing turned easy as Jeonghan cleaned his fingers off and gave you a soft kiss to the corner of your lips.

“You’re so good for me,” he said softly. “Sorry baby.”

Relief flooded your body at his reaction to the scenario. It was a whole different thing to know that Jeonghan would listen to you if you safe worded and to experience him listening to you when you safe worded.

The whole thing made your body burn hotter, your fingers returning to thread calmly through Jeonghan’s hair. In that moment you felt so grateful for him. You turned your head back towards him, and just gave him a look, begging him silently to kiss you. Being in public be damned.

He pressed a very soft kiss to your lips.

“Again,” you whispered. He did as you wished.

“… Again.”

A small smile and he kissed you again.

“You’re so greedy,” he said softly. “But I’ll spoil you tonight. Don’t worry.”

Jeonghan shoved you against the wall, as soon as you two were alone in thebathroom. You were only a bit embarrassed to say that you and Jeonghan had fucked more than once in this bathroom. And only a little more embarrassed to admit that you would be doing it more.

You whined as Jeonghan fisted the collar of your shirt in his hand, and hiked up your leg so that he could push aside your underwear and push a few fingers into you.

“Love it when you’re already nice and ready for me,” he mumbled. “It’s like you’re made for me like this.”

He unzipped his pants, pulling his hard cock out of his pants.

“You want me?”

Your eyes flickered down to his cock, and if you were completely honest it was like you were drolling staring at it. You wanted so badly for him to use your mouth, but you knew that all he wanted right now was to be buried inside of you.

You got a slap across the face for staring at his cock too long.

“Stupid slut,” he chided, and you would honestly never get tired of being called that. “Can’t have my cock if you can’t tell me that you want it.”

“Jeonghan please,” you begged lightly. “I w-want it so badly. Need you to fuck me. You know how badly I want it. Would have let you take me on the table in front of Zen if it hadn’t-”

 Before you could finish speaking Jeonghan had slammed his palm over your mouth.

“Shut up, I just wanted consent,” he mumbled his voice gruff. With his other hand he guided his cock into you and wasted no time easing himself in. Once he knew his tip was in he was pushing himself all the way inside of you with one swift movement. You let out scream mixed in a moan at how suddenly he pushed himself into you and your eyes fluttered shut in relief.

Jeonghan let out a pleased groan of relief, and for a moment he just let his forehead fall against yours, enjoying the feeling of being buried inside of you. After a few minutes you couldn’t stand it anymore. You whined against the hand that was still keeping you quiet.

Jeonghan sighed.

“Such a greedy little whore.”

He kept his hand over your mouth because you’re always too loud in public. You don’t want to be caught do you?

And began to fuck you hard. Each thrust had your back bumping the wall, but at this angle it felt like he was splitting you open and fuck it if you didn’t love that feeling. Jeonghan was sloppy, obviously letting out his frustration at having to share your attention earlier and… So much recently. You could tell he was tired of all the different partners you had been having for classes.

“You’re so good for me,” Jeonghan praised, little whispers in your ear. “Just taking everything I give you like a good girl. Always so good. ‘m so proud of you, you know that?”

Your face was burning, the praise pushing you closer to an orgasm than his cock was. You raised your hands to Jeonghan’s wrists, squeezing at him just for purchase.

“I’m proud of you for safe wording,” he mumbled. “But I’m also proud of you for just taking my fingers before that. Letting me play with you like my own little toy.”

His hand slipped off of your mouth, replaced by his lips. He didn’t really kiss you, just let you pant and moan and cry against his lips.

“Didn’t even know you knew your safe word,” he teased lightly, his voice still soft. One of his hands came to your hips, and he pressed you hard into the wall, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

“Just never want to sue it,” you mumbled back, knowing he wasn’t begging you for an explanation. Jeonghan’s breath began to come more frequently.

“Gonna fill you up so full,” he mumbled. “Make you drip cum down your legs the whole way back tonight.”

Before you could respond, he was devouring your lips in a breath stealing kiss, and immediately after that you could feel his cock spraying hot cum inside of you. You cried against his lips as he lowered one of his hands to your pussy, his fingers rubbing your clit until your whole body was shaking with him.

He came down from his orgasm faster than you did. He stopped his thrusts, and slowly slipped out of you, letting his cum rush out of your pussy and soak your panties. He let your leg drop back down but with one hand he kept you pressed against the wall and with his other hand he kept you trapped in a deep kiss until your shaking had stopped.

He broke the kiss, pressing his sweaty forehead to yours.

“I love you,” he promised you softly, and the look in his eyes was so serious that you had to look away from him.

“Need a minute,” you mumbled softly. “N-need to sit down.”

Jeonghan nodded and helped you slide down the wall, burying your face in his chest in exhaustion. He murmured soft reassurances to you until you told him to shut up because it was turning you back on and you didn’t think you could take another creampie in the library bathroom.

But regardless. You were enjoying this, all of this.. Even if Jeonghan’s secrets were getting to you.

It started with the lactose intolerance. And it just few from there. Finding out from Mingyu that Jeonghan didn’t like this vegetable or finding out from Seokmin that Jeonghan hated this author. They were all things that when they came up and you didn’t know it you just… Felt bad.

You should know these things. Why wouldn’t he just tell you these things. He knew them about you. He woke up early and bought you coffee in the morning, and he bought you little things that made him think about you- like a little yellow duck statue for your bookshelf that you just couldn’t figure out the significance of.

Your biggest focus at this point in your relationship was to just… Not think about it too much. To just remember what everyone kept insisting to you. You would figure it all out eventually.

Jeonghan rolled over on the bed.

“Y/n, can you come with me tomorrow?” Jeonghan asked. You glanced at him, the hesitation clear in your eyes, but only there considering the last time that he had asked you that question.

You didn’t think you could endure a whole day of edging in public again.

Jeonghan waved away your silent concerns.

“It’s just that Jia is going to be in town and she wanted to get lunch,” Jeonghan replied. You waited for him to tell you who Jia was. “No shenanigans this time, just a lunch.”��

You supposed there wasn’t going to be an explanation. Just another guessing game on who Jia was the whole time that the three of you ate together.

“Sure, that sounds lie fun,” you said with a slight smile. Jeonghan hummed, happy, and turned your head to his, tiltingnup your chin with his index finger. A soft kiss was pressed to your lips.

“Thank you. I love you,” he whispered softly. “Good night.”

You sighed and buried your face in his chest.

“Good night.”

-

You really liked to sleep in on Sunday’s. It was the only day that you really got to yourself after all, but regardless when Jeonghan woke you up at nine in the morning to get ready gou were more than happy to oblige.

And your drowsiness practically flew out the window when Jeonghan insisted you shower together and pushed you against the wall ignoring the way your hands slipped on the shower wall tile.

“You gonna be good and take it quietly?”

He had to let you suck on his fingers while he fucked you against the wall to keep your moans down to a minimum.

Jeonghan took you to a small cafe off campus that you had never heard of. He didn’t supply you with any information about this Jia. No prepping of how long he had known her or anything of the sort.

Just a car ride with your spotify blend playing in the background.

You weren’t sure what to think really. As you walked in, your shoulder brushing his when abruptly a girl from the center of the homely cafe.

“Hannie!!”

She exclaimed, causing more than a few students in the cafe to look up in surprise. A warm smile crossed Jeonghan’s lips as the girl came rushing through the tables, colliding with him in a tight hug.

You pressed your lips together uncertainly as she jumped excitedly while hugging him. Jeonghan found it really amusing which was… Odd… Normally Jeonghan kept the touches with other people down, but he was encouraging it. He placed a hand on her head, patting her dark hair.

“Jia,” he said pleasantly, before his expression turned a little sterner. “What have I told you about not causing such a large scene places?”

Her smile turned apologetic but it was then that she noticed you. Confusion crossed her face.

“Oh, Hannie, who’s this?”

She didn’t know you were coming?

You tried to make your discomfort as unclear as you possibly could. You smiled and introduced yourself while Jeonghan just stood there and watched you two with a look you didn’t recognize in his eyes. He was up to something you could feel it in your bones, you just weren’t sure what he was up to.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Jia exclaimed. “I’m Jia but of course, I’m sure Jeonghan has told you all about me.”

She radiated certainty and her smile was so wide and pure that you just couldn’t tell her anything that was contrary to what she seemed to believe.

“He does,” you agreed lightly. “I was really hoping I would get to meet you.”

Jia gasped, that huge smile still on her lips. She pointed at you.

“You’re a liar,” she exclaimed with a laugh. “Jeonghan doesn’t talk about other people people. It’s been hell even learning about his frat brothers.”

She giggled again, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

“But I have heard about you y/n.”

There was a mischievous look in her eyes that almost matched Jeonghan’s. You weren’t sure what to say, so you just laughed again.

“Hopefully all good things.”

You were surprised when Jia reached forward and patted your cheek affectionately. 

“Jia,” Jeonghan said, using a tone that you were only used to hearing when you had done something that he deemed to be bratty. You had never heard him use it on anyone rlse before.

Jia pulled her hand back, her brows furrowed and her lips downturned.

“You’ve always been so possessive of the things you like,” she mumbled. She looked back over at you. “He’s been like this since we were kids. Always yelled at me for being friends with his ‘other’ friends.”

“We spent enough time together as it was,” Jeonghan said with a roll of his eyes. It made Jia pout.

“It’s like you don’t even like me,” she said.

Jeonghan let out a heavy sigh.

“You know I love you Jia,” he said, but he sounded like it was a chore to say. Jia beamed.

“And I love you Jeonghan.”

A twinge of jealousy shot through your body, but you pushed it down, reminding yourself that being jealous because she was comfortable saying I love you to him and you weren’t was stupid. 

But as the lunch went on, the stupid feeling didn’t go away. Not because of her really but because of how they interacted. It was so clear to you that they knew each other really well.

Better than he knew any of his classmates, better then he knew any of the Alpha Mu boys.

“Did Jeonghan ever tell you the story about when we went out drinking for my 21st?” Jia asked, leaning forward on the table. You shook your head politely.

“Well, little Hannie used to drink like crazy,” Jia said with a large smile. “And my best friend at the time… Uh, what was her name?”

Jeonghan seemed disgruntled by the conversation.

“It was Vivia,” he provided regardless.

“Yes! Vivia!” Jia looked back at you. “Vivia was obsessed with Jeonghan. She wanted him so badly it was ridiculous. Vivia and I were friendsd with mutual friends so she showed but and spent the whole night getting Jeonghan drunk.”

Another giggle from Jia.

“He was so focused on me that he was really paying attention to how much he was drinking, so at the end of the night he was so wasted I had to take him to his place and he just had the biggest break down. We don’t spend any time together anymore. Times have changed so much.”

Jia laughed, but again the conversation was clearly annoying Jeonghan. You bumped his shoulder and tugged his hand down under the table so that you could intertwine your fingers.

“Have you ever seen Jeonghan cry?”

You shook your head, but the thought was a little amusing if it were because he was drunk.

“Jia, you act like you’ve never done something embarrassing before,” Jeonghan grumbled.

“No,” Jia denied. “I just know that y/n doesn’t want to hear my embarrassing stories. She wants to hear the ones about you.”

You didn’t deny it and Jeonghan sent you a warning look over your silence.

“Well…” You trailed off. “It’s not exactly untrue.”

You liked hearing stories about how Jeonghan was a quiet kid in elementary school who had practically no friends. Or how he actually did have a crush on this girl in middle school but she made fun of him for his long hair so that was the first time that he cut it short.

“I like the length that it is right now,” you said. “I think your hair would look good really long or really short.”

As you spoke you raised your free hand to mess with a strand of his hair. His facial expression softened under the attention.

“You think so?”

“You wouldn’t think so if you saw this picture of him from when it was longer.”

The longer the three of you spoke the more comfortable you got around Jia. But the longer the three of you spoke the more that uncomfortable feeling brewed in the pit of your stomach. That thing that had been gnawing at you for so long now that you should be immune to it.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Jia announced. “But Hannie, I really want another Chai.”

She pushed two clasped hands forward on the table, giving Jeonghan a wide eyed expression with a small pout on her lips. Jeonghan sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Do you know how much money you owe me?”

“Thank you!” Jia exclaimed excitedly. She hopped up from the table.

“Which one do you want?” Jeonghan tried to ask her, but as she ran away she just exclaimed.

“You know me! Just surprise me.”

Once she had disappeared behind the bathroom door Jeonghan sighed, and gave you a weary look.

“Thank you for coming with me today,” he said. “I love Jia but…”

You didn’t really hear the end of the sentence. I love Jia. You just never really heard him say that about anyone but you.

“Do you want anything?” Jeonghan asked, not noticing the words that you were clinging to. Not knowing the feeling in your gut that was destroying you. The pressure that was building in your brain.

“No,” you replied, but even so when Jeonghan got up to go order the Chai for Jia you followed. You stayed right behind him, your fingers tugging at the back of his shirt. You were quiet while he ordered, but the second that you two were standing at the counter waiting for it to be prepared and he made a: “Well you know about me and Chai.” That you just couldn’t keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Jeonghan I know nothing about you,” you blurted out. Jeonghan’s eyebrows furrowed and he glanced over at you.

“Huh?”

“I know nothing about you and everyone else does,” you blurted. “It’s like everyone we meet has all this history with you. Jiheon, Kibum, Cheol. When I first met you it was like you didn’t have any friends but that’s not even true. You’re close to everyone except for me.”

You looked away from him, embarrassed that your true feelings were coming out but not embarrassed enough to get you to shut up.

“I don’t know how you like your coffee. I don’t know your favorite foods. Your favorite color. What am I supposed to do when your birthday comes around? All I know is that you like legos, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I just got you legos for your birthdays.”

Jeonghan was surprisingly calm.

“Y/n, I love legos.”

“But for your birthday? Everyone would judge me. Everyone judges me. I am the worlds worst girlfriend. Why are you dating me? Why don’t you date someone like Jiheon-“ His face said it all when you said that. “I’m just saying. She knows you. I don’t know you, what could I possibly-”

“Architecture.”

You stopped speaking, your mouth dropping a little bit.

“Sorry?”

“Architecture,” Jeonghan replied pointedly. “I’m an architecture major.”

Your mind raced to process the information but before you could Jeonghan was speaking again.

“And not that many people know everything about me,” he denied. “You’re overthinking it.”

You pointed blindly towards the room that you and Jeonghan had left Jia in.

“What about Jia?”

“Y/n-” A laugh erupted from him. “Jia is my sister.”

Shame rushed through your body faster than you had ever imagined it possibly could.

“You…” There was so much to take from this. “You have a sister?! I really don’t know anything about you.”

Jeonghan placed both of his hands on your shoulders, and gave you a very serious expression.

“Y/n, why are you still so worried about this?” He asked softly. “Do you still think that you’re not good enough for me? Really? After all this time?”

You were silent, because yes you did still think that. Even after all this time.

“I can’t tell you I love you,” you said, your voice very quiet. “Jeonghan, I can’t tell you I love you when I don’t know these things about you. I can’t tell you I love you when there are so many people that would be better for you.”

“But you do love me,” Jeonghan replied. Your frown deepened at his words.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” Jeonghan denied. “Do you really think that there’s any world where I don’t know how much you love me?”

You were quiet.

“I don’t think I could have gotten so lucky, to be with someone like you. Someone who cares so much about me, someone who wants so badly to be good for me that you would selfishly hold back three words that you desperately want to say all because of your insecurities.”

He sighed, and raised a hand to your cheek, his thumb swiping across your cheekbone.

 You felt so embarrassed to be under such a gaze but it was comforting nonetheless.

“Your biggest problem in this relationship is that you think you have to say all these things for me to know. You could never tell me that you loved me and I would still know.”

You were a little reassured but not that reassured.

“But I still don’t know you,” you said quietly.

“You don’t know my favorite color, and you didn’t know my major but it was mostly just because I was messing with you. Keeping those things from you cause I thought it was cute the way that you tried to figure things out.”

There was a small smile on his lips.

You were dating a psycho.

“You know me. You can tell when something is off. You can tell when I need reassuring. You know me. And that’s what matters, y/n.”

You sighed. You felt stupid. How could you have been so stressed for so long about such small things that didn’t matter at all. You had been so obsessed with figuring out what his major was, that you hadn’t even paid attention to the ways that you were being good at this whole relationship thing.

“Jeonghan,” you mumbled softly. “I love you.”

A smile tugged at Jeonghan’s lips, one that was so pure and genuine that it made you want to say those three words again, and again, and again, but you held back.

“I love you too,” Jeonghan replied softly. “More than you know.”

You rolled your eyes at the sentiment. More than you know. As if everyone didn’t know how much Jeonghan was in love with you.

“A ruby chai for Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan sighed, as if he was just now remembering where you two were. He gave your cheek a small pat and then wandered back over to the counter, thanking the barista as he picked up the drink for Jia. He tipped the cup at you.

“Do you like Jia?” He asked you. You nodded, but your face was a dark red.

In a café. You two were in a public café right now. And you had just told him that you loved him for the first time.

“She reminds me of you in a few ways,” you admitted, and you two made your way back to the table you were sharing with Jia. “I thought it was just because you had been friends since child hood but it makes sense now. I can see the resemblance in your eyes.”

“I’m sorry I do things like this to you so much,” Jeonghan said after a few moments. “I tease you a lot.”

“A lot is an understatement,” you mumbled. “But I don’t mind it. It’s how you tell me that you love me.”

Jeonghan’s smile tugged harder at his lips and you could tell that he wanted to say more but before he could Jia was joining the two of you at the table again, and you two were dragged right back into conversation with her.

-

“Okay, okay, how do I look?”

You stared at Yeongtae with a borderline bored expression.

“You look the same as you always do,” you said pointedly. His lips dropped into a frown.

“Y/n, it’s your first-time meeting Chaeryeong as my girlfriend I just want to make sure that I look good for the occasion.”

The pout in his tone was funny. A smile flickered across your face.

“You look fine,” you assured.

Now that finals were finally over you were excited to spend the summer with Jeonghan. Sure he had his internship and you had your job but you two had already planned to go on a day trip to some mountains to do some hiking, so you had a fun and eventful summer ahead of you.

He had proposed this. A party with all of your friends. All of the Alpha Mu boys, the Jiheon friend group, and even your friends.

You thought it was odd but he promised you that there was no alterior motive to the party.

“Just one last hurrah before the summer,” Jeonghan had promised. At first you thought it was strange, but the more you thought about it the more you understood. Jeonghan was sentimental and this school year he had gotten exactly what he wanted. Exactly what he had been wanting for years.

You.

When you and Yeongtae made it to the party it was mostly just catching up with people. You couldn’t really find Jeonghan, but Yeongtae was dragging you from place to place regardless. You two spoke with your friends and caught up over how exams went.

Yeongtae had become pretty close with Jiheon’s group of friends and he pretty quickly found his brand new way-too-hot for him girlfriend and settled in with that group.

You had to catch up with Seungcheol and Soonyoung for a while before finally you found yourself catching sight of Jeonghan. You sighed and stopped moving in the middle of the crowd of people. Jeonghan caught sight of you and his lips quirked up into a smile.

He slowly made his way over to you, and leaned down, giving you the smallest, sweetest kiss he had ever given you.

“What’s wrong baby? Not excited to see me?”

You just stared at him, a pout still on your lips. He sighed and pulled you up close to him, burying your face in his chest.

“What? You don’t want to spend time with our friends?”

You shook your head into his chest. You were glad he had thought of this. You thought it was nice of him to try so hard to merge your two’s worlds. Even Jeongyeon and Jimin were having a good time.

“You want me to take you upstairs and fuck you like the good little toy you are.”

Your face burned with embarrassment but you peaked up at him regardless, a smile on your lips as you gave him a small nod.

“Jeonghan, I really do love you.”

He smiled at you, and you could already see the excitement of what he was going to do to you upstairs strumming through him.

“I love you too.”

fin~

#seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt fanfiction #seventeen smut #kpop smut

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Not Like I'm in Love with You

Summary: For the longest time, it was you and Maria. A package duo. A dynamic team. Agent Hill and Gaia. But you were always just friends, nothing more. Until a mission goes wrong forces Maria to admit her feelings for you.

Warnings: jealously, angst with a happy ending, surgery, medically induced coma, bomb, eco terrorist?, reader is enhanced, mention of drinking and sexual activity, love confession

Word Count: 5.2k

“My savior,” Natasha groaned as you handed the redhead a coffee and a breakfast sandwich. She moaned, taking a sip of the coffee. “I could marry you right now.” You shook her head at her antics and passed the rest of the goodies to the team. Clint had his feet on the table and head thrown back, and a pair of sunglasses covered his eyes. He grunted out a thanks when he set his order down. The rest of the team was in different states of hungover, barely muttering a greeting. You chuckled.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have gone out on a school night,” you teased, sitting down at your desk so you could eat your own. Clint groaned.

“You aren’t my mom,” You felt like it.

“Where’s the boss?” You questioned.

“Probably untangling herself from the blonde she went home with,” May mumbled, holding a cold towel to her forehead. Why did your stomach drop when she said that? The team had the right to party after a job well done. The case had a breakthrough, and they wanted to go out. Like always, you refused, you weren’t much of a drinker, and you didn’t trust yourself drunk with your abilities. You were an Eco-empathy, allowing you to connect deeply with the environment and sense, understand, and manipulate the natural world. SHIELD nicknamed you Gaia, and your fellow agents called you various Earth-related names. You and Maria were just friends, right? When Fury picked her as Deputy Director, she prompted you alongside her. You were her second in command; while she went out in the field, you stayed behind to run point. It was how you two operated a well-oiled machine. Co-workers. Best friends at most. Like you’ve been, right? Natasha raised an eyebrow at you.

The door opened, and Maria walked in. “Ah, she emerges from her walk of shame,” Natasha teased. Maria flipped her off and thanked you with a smile for her breakfast.

“Ain’t nothing shameful what I did last night,” Natasha cringed. Thankfully, Maria’s back was to you, so she missed the frown on your face. The redhead saw it. “Alright,” she said. “What’s the plan?”

*

“You missed a hell of a party,” Maria said as you handed your mock battle plan for the upcoming mission. It would go through her than Fury before it was green lite; the more eyes, the better when it came to people’s lives.

“All these years you’ve known me, you know clubs aren’t my scene,” you sat on the edge of her desk. There was a picture of you and her during your SHIELD graduation. “Besides, how long were you there until an innocent woman fell under your spell?” You teased, but it didn’t feel enjoyable in your mouth.

“She wasn’t so innocent when I had my way with her,” you faked a gag. It was typical behavior between you two to talk about the woman you brought home; more times than not, Maria had the stories. But why did you feel like you could throw up right now?

“I can tell by that hickey on your neck,” you pushed the bruise, and she squatted your hand away. She was your ride-or-die. So you weren’t jealous.

“What is your schedule like today?” You sighed, looking at your nails on your left hand.

“Leading a training with May, a meeting with Phil, and I think Clint wants to go over some new trick arrows,” you rattled off. It was a typical busy day for you. Maria nodded.

“Do you want to go get lunch? We could go to that Mexican place you like.” That sounded nice, and you liked the burritos and mock tails they had. You sighed.

“How about a ring check? Nat asked if I could get lunch with her today,” Maria liked to joke that you made her soft. She rarely held up the mask to hide her emotions around you. There was no need. Now you saw the mask slowly creep up to hide her true feelings.

“Yeah, of course, she forced a smile. “Now get out of here before I write you up,” she teased. Rolling your eyes, you jumped off her desk.

“See you later, Ria.”

“Stay safe out there, Willow.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname but her office to start your day.

*

“You love her,” Natasha said as you took a bite of your sandwich. You choked on it, and the Black Widow smirked at your misfortune. You rubbed your chest to help the food pass and took a sip of water.

“I have no idea what the hell you are talking about,” she took a fry from your plate and popped it in her mouth.

“Please, Cherry, you’ve been in love with Maria since I’ve known you, and according to Phil, it’s been since the academy,” you gasped.

“Why is this office gossip?” You asked.

“We have to talk about something,” she shrugged. SHIELD agents were moths to a flame when it came to gossip. “Don’t worry, we won’t discuss it with Maria.” That was not reassuring.

“Look, Maria and I are friends. We have been forever; the way I feel is black and white.” You were curious to know if Natasha believed you. Hell, you barely believed yourself. It wasn’t like you stayed up at night overthinking the possibility of you and Maria has a couple. Nah, that would be dumb.

“Are you sure?” Yeah, it was fine. It was cool. It wasn’t like every time she talked about having sex with some random hookup at a bar, it made your stomach burn with jealousy because you wanted her body all to yourself. You wanted her more than anyone else. It’s not like you were in love with her.

“Shit,” you mumbled, slumping back into her hair. Natasha smiled, sipping on her chocolate milkshake.

“Glad you admitted it,” you hadn’t admitted anything. What was she talking about? “So, are you going to tell her?”

“No!” You shrieked, and you drew the attention of the other patrons. You felt your body warm up due to the extra eyes. Natasha chuckled. “God, no. I can’t. It will ruin everything. Besides, I doubt she feels the same.”

“She does.” The Black Widow glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Shit, we have to get back.” It was supposed to be a quick lunch because Fury called for an emergency meeting. You nodded, throwing your half-eaten food in the bag to take with you. “You know,” Natasha held open the door for you as you walked onto the busy DC sidewalks. “You should tell her. You both could be happy.” She said it as if it was easy and not scary. It’s not like you were losing your mind thinking about her in your bed. It started slow, but like dominoes, you started free-falling with no control. You were doing a shit job at hiding it if your friends knew the truth. It’s not like you were in love with her.

*

“I’m going on this mission,” you said, a little surprised.

“Yes,” Fury said, his arms behind his back and one good eye trained on you. “Your skill set is what this mission needs. Is that a problem?”

“No sir,” you said without hesitation. You kept up to date on your physical and firearm certification, and you met with SHIELD’s psychologist. You were always mission-ready when the time called for it, but it never did. You glanced at Maria, who was oddly quiet. Her face was in a permanent frown. But you couldn’t worry about her now; you had a mission to lead.

*

Maria found you in the locker room, tackle suit around your waist, and you were holding your dad’s dog tags in your hand. It was your good luck charm. “Want me to put it on you?” She asked. You nodded, handing her the necklace. Carefully, she placed the chain around your neck and locked it. The cold metal caused goosebumps to cover your shin. “I don’t like you going on this mission without me.” She admitted and sat down next to you on the bench. You chuckled.

“You’ll be watching my back,” you looked over your shoulder. “No, you’ll know how I feel every time you run off into danger.” You tried to make light of the situation, but there was a frown on your face. “Here,” you removed the necklace and placed it around her.

“What are you doing?” She asked. “You never go anywhere without it.”

“I don’t need it,” you said. “I got you watching my back. That’s all the luck I need.” Maria was quiet. It was unsettling for her to be quiet. “Ria, we got this. I get this. I’ve learned from the best, so I’ll be the best.” She laughed, and you were glad you could pull a sound out of her.

“Just-”

“Clover,” May walked in and cut Maria off. “We are all set, just waiting for you.” You told me you’d be there in 5 and turned your attention back to Maria.

“Just stay safe out there, Willow.” You wondered what she was going to say if she wasn’t interrupted.

“I’ll see you later, Ria,” you smiled. “Promise.”

*

You learned to listen to your gut instinct. It was your most valued tool as an agent. Even when you ran point back at headquarters, you listened to it when your stomach tightened with anxiety as you sat in the wooded area that surrounded the factory. This factory was responsible for releasing toxins into the air. Usually, this type of case wouldn’t gather attention from SHIELD, but the damage they were doing to the environment was affecting the locals: memory loss, muscle spasms, and strange hallucinations. The problem was that it was impossible to locate the idiots responsible for the mess. You could feel the environment dying in this area. May place a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay? She asked. You nodded, unable to open your mouth. You let out a few shaky breaths, trying to loosen the anxiety knot in your stomach, and tapped on the com in your ear.

“How are we looking?” You asked.

“They are about to make the guard change,” hearing Maria’s voice helped calm you down. “Are you doing okay, Willow? Your heart monitor is spiking.” You rolled your eyes and bit back a huff of annoyance. It was Phil’s idea to add pulse and heart detectors into the suit.

“Yeah, they’ve caused a lot of damage to this area. It’s making me all jittery,” you admitted.

“We’ll stop them,” this time it was Natasha’s voice through the coms. The Black Widow was recovering from a shoulder injury that left her benched until it was healed. You lead the team with Clint, May, and a handful of qualified agents.

“Shift change is in 3,” you put on your gas mask. “2 and 1. Stay safe, agents.” That feeling remained in the pit of your stomach. Anxiety, dread. You needed to figure out why. You moved through the building with ease and worked towards the control room. It was your, May’s, and two other agents’ job to turn off the factory while Clint protected the outside in case the alarm was tripped.

“We made it to the control room,” May said.

“Perfect, insert the flash drive. It should take 5 minutes to shut down the factory and copy the information they have on it.” Maria explained. May pushed the rolling chair out of the way.

“Go stand guard,” you ordered the other two agents. They obeyed and went into the hallway. The mission was almost over, so why were you so anxious? When May inserted the flash drive, an alarm went off, and metal walls trapped May and you inside the room.

“Houston,” your friend said. “We have a problem.” The room began to shake as a trap door opened, and a bomb rose from the floor. The red numbers clicked down from 10 minutes.

“Houston,” you repeated, and you took off the gas mask. “We have a bigger problem.”

“Turn on your cameras,” you turned on your body camera and heard the sharp intake of Maria’s breath.

“Guys, we have multiple heat signatures heading towards the factory,” Phil said. You walked over to the bomb, staring at the mysterious liquid.

“Barton, pull back. Gather all agents to the secondary position,” you pulled your hand back, clutching your hand against your chest—a fertilizer bomb.

“Willow, what is it?” Maria asked. You glanced at May; you knew she saw the panic in your eyes.

“It’s a fertilizer bomb,” you admitted. “Big enough to take out the factory and the surrounding bomb.”

“Fucking hell,” you heard Natasha mumble.

“May-”

“Already on it,” she cut off Maria as she rapidly typed at the control panel, trying to disarm the bomb.

“All agents have made it to the secondary location. Just need you two.” Yeah, that was going to be a problem. The sound of your team frantically discussing how to disarm the bomb became white noise. You walked the room length, gliding your hand over the metal wall. To your surprise, you felt pieces of earth within the metal sheets. Of course! All you had to do was focus on the impurities within the metal. You let out a shaky breath and concentrated. The metal moved underneath your palm.

“I have an idea,” you said suddenly.

“Am I going to like this idea?” Maria questioned. Probably not. You took your normal stance, feet shoulder length apart and knees bent slightly. You put your hands together, and then your palms faced the metal walls. Slowly, you began miming as if trying to rip something apart. At first, nothing happened. Beads of sweat trickled down your neck. Finally, the metal started to crumble and pull apart. A small doorway appeared. You fell to one knee, chest heaving. May ran to your side.

“That was wild,” she said. “I don’t know you could do that.” You chuckled as she helped you to your feet.

“Neither did I.”

“Nice work. No, get out of there,” Maria said. You quickly turned off your body camera and your and May’s com.

“You’re staying, aren’t you?” She asked.

“I think I can contain the blast.”

“You think?” It wasn’t an exact science, and you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to contain it.

“Go,” you told her. You had to try. If not, so many people would die, including your team. Your friend hesitated but took off towards the exit. You faced the bomb and turned on your com again. There were four and a half minutes left.

“Why aren’t you leaving with May?” Maria questioned. You took a shaky breath and retook your stance. “Willow, it’s just me and you. What are you doing?”

“I gotta try, Ria,” your voice strained with exhaustion, arms shook at each metal wall you bent around the bomb. “If I don’t, hundreds if not thousands of people are gonna die.” You said. It was your responsibility to get your team home and protect the innocents in the area. Maria whispered your name. It was so rare that someone said your real name it took you by surprise. The bomb was fully wrapped in metal, but you were exhausted already. “You got my lucky charm, right?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I got it.”

“Good, good,” you mumbled, digging your feet into the metal floor. “I’ll see you later, Ria. I promised, didn’t I?” There was so much more you wanted to say. A three-word sentence danced on your lips, but you held it back. It wasn’t fair to her to say it now. Each nerve in your body was vibrating. Every breath you took burned. You sent a silent prayer to your father as the explosion rocked your body. You held the metal to contain it. A scream left your lips as it became too much, and your world went black.

*

Maria knew she had this aura that surrounded her. An aura that screamed authority. It told newer agents not to fuck with her. She knew she was good at what she did and wanted everyone to know that. As she walked to the med bay with Natasha close by, she was murderous. Rationally, she knew it was no one’s fault. It was par for the course when it came to this line of work, but she needed someone to blame and push guilt onto someone. May was resting in a chair with an ice pack on her head. She looked up when she heard the approaching footsteps. “She’s still in surgery,” she mumbled, and Natasha sat beside her. “Doctors are worried about the amount of blood she lost and the toxins that entered her lungs.” A heat of anger washed over Maria, but she tried to push it down.

“May, go shower and eat,” Maria ordered. Her voice strained. She saw the protest form in the agent’s eyes. “That’s an order.” You risked your life to save her and the rest of your team. It would do no one good if May stopped taking care of herself. “That’s an order.” May sighed.

“Yes, Hill.” She stood up and left. Maria took a seat in her spot, elbows resting on her knees.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha asked. Maria refused to look away from the wall she was staring at.

“I need her to be okay,” Maria admitted.

“Is this why you wrote her out of every mission?” The Black Widow questioned. Maria slowly leaned back and looked at the redhead. “Come on, Hill, it was obvious. With her on the field, missions would be over in half the time, but you didn’t want to risk her getting hurt.” Maria remained silent. “Now, why would you do that?” Her eyes locked onto Natasha’s green ones; there was no judgment like she had expected to see. “We do crazy things for the people we love.”

“I-” Maria let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know, Nat.” She whispered. “I just need her to be okay.”

“She will be,” the Black Widow smiled. “She’s strong.” Of course, Maria knew you were strong. She’s seen you at your lowest point when your father passed away, but you pulled yourself out of it. Your screams right before you collapsed were repeating inside her head. It was like a bad song stuck in there. The only thing that gave her hope was the steady beat of your heart monitors within your suit. You were alive, barely but alive.

“Deputy Director Hill,” her name said, but the approaching doctor caused her to stand up.

“How she is?” She asked.

“Stable,” the doctor said. “The next 24 hours are critical. I must admit she has a few guardian angels looking out for her. There was a major piece of metal in her stomach and left thigh. She also had small pieces in her arm. We think she hit her head due to a cut on the back of her head.”

“May said you were worried about her lungs,” Natasha said. The doctor nodded.

“She inhaled a great deal of the fertilizer before she was found, so we are worried about the lasting effects.” She explained.

“Can-can I see her?” Maria asked.

“Of course, we’ve placed her in a medically induced coma to allow her body to heal.” She faintly heard Natasha say she would inform Clint and the others of your condition. Maria wasn’t sure if the doctor was talking about your prognosis, but soon she was alone.

The only noise in the room was the steady sound of the machines connected to you. It seemed unreal that you were hurt. For the longest time, you seemed untouchable. Now, you were bedridden and too pale for Maria’s liking. She took your father’s dog tags off her neck and opened your hand to put the chain in it. “Lucky charm is back where it belongs.” She formed your hands into a tight fist and placed it on your heart. “Come back to me,” she whispered, kissing your forehead. “Please.”

*

There was a heaviness that surrounded you. It started at your chest and then moved to your limbs. The pressure was suffocating. Catastrophic. Slowly, you opened your eyes to the bright light of med bay. You felt metal in your hand and opened your palm to see the dog tags you gave Maria. “You’re awake,” you turned to see Natasha. A deck of cards in your hands and glanced down at your chest. You interrupted a game of war.

“Why are you using me as a table?” You deadpanned. Natasha shrugged.

“Had to kill time as we waited for your dumbass to wake up,” you rolled your eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a semi-truck,” you groaned and sat up slowly. The door opened to the bathroom, and Clint walked out.

“Shit,” you said. “You’re alive.” You scuffed, rubbing the bandages on your chest.

“I’m glad you had so much confidence in me, bird man,” Clint took a seat across from Natasha. “The team is okay, right? They all made it out.”

“Yeah, you saved their lives,” Natasha said. “Maria is pissed at you.” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll deal with her later.” You closed your eyes. Now that you were a little more awake, you could take a better inventory of your body. Every small breath you took caused your chest to burn; it felt like a fire was starting. You sighed, wincing slightly, and turned to look at Natasha. “How bad?” The Black Widow sighed.

“There is potential damage to your lungs due to the fertilizer, and you had a metal that they had to remove from your stomach and thigh.” Cool, you thought, real cool.

“Just think,” Clint started. “At least you are off breakfast duty for a while.” You laughed at his poor attempt to lighten the mood but hissed. “Shit, sorry. No laughing. Got it.” You waved him off that you were okay.

“I’ll go get the doctor. Don’t move.” Natasha said, standing up. You scuffed. Yeah, you would make a grand escape with a hole in your stomach.

“You had everyone worried,” Clint said once Natasha was gone. You remained quiet, lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t your intention to scare everyone. It was your job to protect your team and bring them home. So, you completed that part of the mission. It so happened you were hurt in the process.

It was night when you woke up again, and Maria was in Natasha’s seat. Her eyes were closed, but you knew she wasn’t asleep. Even in the dim light of the room, she looked exhausted. Bags were under her eyes, and her face looked pale. Natasha told you that you were in a medically induced coma for five days. Maria barely slept, had to be forced to eat, and left her office. “I know you aren’t asleep, Ria,” you whispered. Her eyes shot open. “You look like shit.”

“Says the girl with the hole in her stomach.” You smiled.

“They stitched it up all good. Besides, I had my lucky charm,” you picked up the dog tag around your neck. To your surprise, Maria took your hand in hers. Your body felt warm at the simple act. It wasn’t like you hadn’t held her hand before this moment felt more intimate. “Ria,” you whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I thought I lost you,” she admitted. “God, Willow, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you said. “I needed to save the team.” She shook her head.

“It was the right call to make, but,” Maria sighed, and you felt her take her hand away, but you held her tight, not wanting to let her go. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you promised.

With the surgery and injuries, your movement was limited. The most straightforward actions were impossible for you to do without pain shooting through your chest. It was deemed you would move in with someone until you fully recovered. Natasha was the first to offer but was quickly overruled by Maria. So you moved in with the Deputy Director, and it was strange. You needed help washing your hair, changing, and undressing yourself. You couldn’t understand the look in Maria’s eyes for every action you required assistance with. It wasn’t the first time you shared a living space with Maria, but now you walked on eggshells around each other. A part of you wanted to go back before the mission before everything felt complicated between you and your best friend.

The physical limitations weren’t the worst part of your recovery. It was the mental scars. Nightmares plagued your mind almost every night of that mission. It would change constantly. Sometimes, your team would die, or you would fail to save Maria. It was exhausting, waking up in a pool of sweat, your heart racing, and your lungs unable to get air into them. You wanted all to stop.

*

Maria was sitting at her dining room table, a bottle of whiskey opened, and she needed to work on a few case files. Her mind was a million miles away and not on her duties as Deputy Director. It wasn’t entirely her fault; a lot had happened over the past two weeks. Her best friend was almost killed; Natasha forced her to admit she was in love with said best friend, and she had to watch you piece yourself back together. It was exhausting, but she knew you would do it for her. This was how it had always been. You and Maria. Agent Hill and Gaia. A package duo that never crossed the line as friends. So Maria filled the void that was missing with one-night stands and drunken sex that meant nothing to her. All she wanted, needed, and craved was you. She could not risk the friendship; it was the most important thing in her life.

Small whimpers from your room pulled her out of her thoughts. Standing quickly, she made her way to the guest room. She carefully opened the door. You lay on the bed, mumbling something Maria couldn’t quite understand. On socked feet, she walked over to the bed and sat at the foot. “No,” you mumbled. “Take me. Not her. Please.” Maria’s heart broke.

“Sweetheart,” Maria whispered. “Wake up. Come on.”

“Maria,” you mumbled, thrashing slightly. “Maria, please, I’m sorry.”

“It’s just a nightmare. Wake up. Wake up.” You woke with a start, chest heaving and eyes frantically looking around.

“Ria,” you forced out. There was a thin layer of sweat on your body.

“It’s okay—you’re safe. I’m safe. Breath,” she gently touched the back of your neck and brought your forehead against hers. Your eyes closed as you took a few deep breaths in and out. Finally, you pulled away, and Maria hated to admit she missed you being close. You slumped back on the bed, arm across your face.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked. She was curious to know if you heard her. With your other hand, you grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

“I’m scared,” you said. Your voice shook at every spoken word. “I feel broken and weak and-” You aggressively rubbed your eyes as tears filled them.

“You are not broken,” Maria said. “You are healing. In time, you will return to your old self that I-” Maria cut herself off. You removed your hand from your face and slowly sat up.

“You what?” You asked, crossed your legs, and tried to cover the grimace of pain that crossed your face, but you moved closer to her. “Come on, Ria, tell me,” she was looking at every decoration in the room so she wouldn’t have to look at you. Finally, you used your index finger to tilt her chin to look back at you. “Finish your sentence,” you wore a smile on your face. It was a smile that Maria learned to look for in a crowd, in a meeting, or on a video call while on a mission. Your smile filled her with a sense of peace. It warmed her body and made her feel at home.

“That I fell in love with,” Maria softly spoke as she finished her sentence. You made a surprise sound that originated in the back of your throat, but you recovered quickly.

“You love me, Maria Hill?” the agent huffed a laugh, shaking her head.

“Shut up,” she mumbled. “If you are going to make fun of me, get it over with.”

“I’d never make fun of you, not about this, at least.” You added with a smirk because you have made fun of her about other things. “Can I kiss you?” You asked, inching closer until Maria felt your breath mingling with hers.

“Please,” you connected your lips with hers. Maria hated how often she thought about this moment. She would go to her grave before admitting out loud how many times she had to bite her lip during sex to stop herself from moaning your name. Fair too soon for her liking, you pulled away and rested your head on her shoulder.

“Why have we waited so long to do that?” Maria chuckled. “Will you stay?”

“Always,” the open bottle of whiskey and mission reports could wait another day.

*

When you woke up the following day, you are disappointed to find an empty bed. Maria’s side was cold, but you heard a commotion in the kitchen. Carefully, you stood up. The mornings were always rough due to being in the same position for so long. You slowly made your way out of the room and into the kitchen. Maria was at the stove, her back to you, and you walked over to her. Your arms wrapped around her waist, and you buried her head in her shoulder. Her body tensed up but soon relaxed in your arms. “Morning,” you mumbled.

“Morning. Breakfast is almost done. Why don’t you go sit down?” You shook your head.

“Your arm,” you said, kissing the skin you could reach. You were happy with the goosebumps that formed on her skin. Her body shook with laughter.

“Go sit. I’ll get your medicine, too.” You pouted, walked over to the couch, and pulled a blanket over your lap. It wasn’t long before Maria joined on the sofa with two plates of food.

“I can help you know,” she said with a smile. She brought back two mugs of coffee and water with your medication. You kissed her cheek as your thanks and took the three white pills with water.

“I should probably say this,” you bite into the eggs. “I love you too,” she smirked.

“I would hope so, or this entire thing would be incredibly awkward,” she teased. You rolled your eyes and pumped your shoulder against hers.

“You are a dork,” you smiled.

“I’m your dork,” that was also true. Oh, how you liked that sound.

“Mine,” you mumbled, kissing her. “And I’m yours.”

#maria hill x reader #maria hill x you #maria hill

[savnofilter]

On to Better Things | k. bakugo

      Pro Hero!DILF!Katsuki Bakugo x [FEM] Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, angst, strangers to lovers.

sfw — toxic & abusive relationship, toxic baby daddy, mentions postpartum, mental health, arguing, mentions of legal proceedings, counseling, drama, cultural family expectations, love bombing, manipulation, a man being a hypocrite, reader low-key needs a new circle of people around them but that's neither here nor there, reader loves their daughter to pieces </3, reader's daughter is a hand full but we stan!, reader spaces out a lot, "our kids are best friends but we never met before and so happen to be single" trope.

nsfw — sexual content, pro hero!bakugo sorry not sorry lmao, bakugo got rizz, fingering, cunnilingus, groping, praise kink, reader has multiple orgasms (2, hinted 4), reader is a bit shy as it's been awhile and feels nervous, vocal queen reader, clothed sex, protected sex, comforting!bakugo, non-established relationship.

COUNT: 11.4k words (45 mins.)

READ MORE: masterlist + [students | bakugo]

A/N: whooph the warnings… imo, it's nothing too serious, but yk i gotta put the warnings up!! it's not graphic, but it does talk ab the stuff listed. i didnt know how else to craft a toxic ex-baby daddy type of situation, and it divulged into this 😭 also use yalls brains with the sfw & nsfw discernment for the warnings… ofc i do not take lightly about what's written, so dont twist it any other way and the heavier subjects being under sfw. i digress!! ive been wanting to write this request for a while and finally got around to it. unfortunately, i alr want to rewrite. :') despite that, i actually kinda really liked this one so i hope yall fw it too. 🫶🏽 thank you, anon!

"Mommy!" Your daughter, Niyuki, calls out to you as she runs into your arms.

She had recently turned 6 years old and still loves the end of the day on Fridays where she could run into your arms, and recount everything about what she had learned that week. Niyuki is pretty much a chatterbox and you weren't too sure where she got it from considering that even your… ex wasn't quite the talkative one either. As you grew to love this quality about her, you found it endearing. Phone calls with her were always a delight and that was how she had persuaded (begged) you to let her go to the park despite having other plans for the day.

You had promised on Monday that she would be able to go to the park in addition to ending her day Friday night off with having a sleepover with her best friend. Niyuki, being an excitable kid, wanted to go straight from school to the park so she wouldn't waste any more time than she already had.

"Hi, Niyuki!" You beam back, a loving smile on your face as you pepper her face in kisses, and hold her cheeks as she tries to shy away with her boundless amounts of giggles. "How was your da-"

"Great -- Mommy you promised we could go to the park today!" Niyuki lightly pushes away from you, a slight whine to her voice as she attempts to get away from your onslaught of affection.

"We can still go, I can't greet my little angel first before I do that?" You poke her cheek as you stand up straight and hold your hand out for her to hold. "Tell me about your day, pumpkin."

There was a skip in her step as she recounted her day to you. When Niyuki gets started, she never stops. She talked about the first moment her feet reached the school grounds, to before school had started, then she talked about her first few classes, after that what she did during lunch and how much fun she had at recess, the "drama" (very unserious but nevertheless cute) that happened before classes resumed and so on. Niyuki is also the animated type and could often run out of breath when she talks. She would use her hands and voice inflictions just to convey what she was speaking about. Sometimes, you even had to remind her to slow down and that time was going nowhere when talking with you.

It was moments like this when you could take in the rambunctiousness and appreciate your lovable daughter. You two only seemed to have special moments like these—well, at least you thought they were special—because of the separation between you and your toxic ex.

Before you two had split your relationship had been decent. Despite that though, you were incredibly in love with him, but the same wasn't reciprocated in a way that emotionally gave back. He'd make excuses as to why he wasn't open to you, his reasoning that he "loved differently" and that if you really loved him you would believe him. So you did. Over, and over, and over again. Hoping that the days where he showed up like in the beginning would become more frequent, but your willingness to stay was how he knew he could toy with you.

He had been your first when you had finally agreed to be an item when you were in your early twenties and it took a long time to finally separate from him when things got bad. In addition to dealing with the conflicting feelings of your then-boyfriend, your friends who only wanted the best for you, and your close family members, you also had to deal with yourself. Nights and days spent venting and breaking down about the man had become so common that your friends' concerns grew. You had so many negative thoughts at that time and you were naive to truly believe that there was a happy ending to overcome this predicament. That his way of loving could change for both of you. His manipulative questions would often linger in your head if you left him, and who were you to argue? When arguments would start to come up again almost weekly, it always ended up with you an emotional mess while he "proved" to you that he was the only one who could handle you.

When your ex noticed you started to pull away, he suddenly had an interest in starting a family. Late nights where you two would lay in bed after making up, he'd share his daydreams about you mothering his children, how beautiful and perfect you'd be to fit in his little world.

Family this, family that. Family values, family roles, family life. You two had been friends since you both were in high school, and it only made sense that you two were dating now and getting married soon. Hell, he even made you question what would your family think if you were "running around" instead of being faithful to him. Imagine the embarrassment to your family if you threw all of that away and weren't able to find someone else like him?

People talk, people notice. Many of the older women noted how great you two looked together, and he was well off with a great future that could support you both. Neither did it help that you changed your once passionate future for being a pro-hero to a different career that was deemed less reliable than your previous choice. It was in your best interest that you stayed with him to avoid the awful gossip in town.

When you haven't been in a situation like yours with an inconsiderate lover, it's hard to understand why you stayed as long as you did. Consequently from being his friend for so long and dating him for years meant he knew the sort of things to target your psyche. To reinforce the pressures you had of making your family look good, mixed with the hidden fears of the burden of following the footsteps of your successful siblings as well.

It was a lot to take in and it wasn't long before you gave in. You just wanted him to be who he was again. The stress only grew older with you and the more time that passed had a looming connotation that the older you got the more undesirable and unfit you are to find another relationship. Even past that, you gave so many years to him. You were a virgin when you two had met, and he had already been around. He knew how to kiss you right, he memorized your soft spots and remembered the best ways to make you come undone. He'd expertly sweet talk you after each session, and on days when you were feeling down he would be the first person to show up, usually bearing gifts of some sort coupled with affection. You couldn't understand what had changed. Why did he decide to start treating you like this? You were vulnerable and scared, and nothing like the familiar could ease the fabricated feeling of comfort.

You thought that having his child would finally fix things but you were so wrong. So very, very wrong. After your first semester in the pregnancy, you had heard talk about people seeing your supposed boyfriend—the father of the child you were soon to birth—with other women. Of course, you didn't believe it, and you refused to listen when your friends tried to tell you. In this stage, you were mostly shut in, as this was taught to be the best preparation for giving birth. You couldn't fathom the fact he would stoop so low. He had his low moments, but not like this. He would never.

He had disconnected you from everyone who had truly cared for you and even convinced your family that you were safe and protected with him. It wasn't until one evening when he had the gall to meet one of his mistresses outside of your house is when you realized it was all true, but it was all too late.

You were an emotional wreck for days. You had hit your lowest and it didn't help that your delivery date was getting closer every day that passed. You'd weep to yourself when you were sure he wasn't around and soon enough the house that you had (forced) yourself to love had once again become a prison. A night when you were tired of the pain is when you decided to reach out to your friends and family again. It was a shameless plea for help and you didn't care how desperate you looked and you wanted out. At first, your parents weren't supportive of the fact that you wanted to leave the man but you didn't care. You wanted to leave everything behind and not give this horrible chapter in your life a look back ever again. With enough talking and white lies, you were able to make a workaround to at least get back up on your feet after your delivery.

The delivery of your daughter, Niyuki, was thankfully a smooth one. Not at all enjoyable but very few complications came along the way when the time came. You had made a deal with your parents that you would stay with them so you could comfortably recover from the delivery whilst being able to safely be under their vision when your ex and his in-laws would come over. Your friends started to visit when you were healing more and had even convinced you to go out with them which you hadn't done for over a year. You were utterly scared as you had missed such a large chunk of socialization that even you didn't think you could do it. But once the night started, you didn't want to go back.

One night out became two, then three, four, five, and so on. The time you were home lessened and it didn't help that your friends were more than willing to let you take refuge at their homes. It wasn't like you were going crazy but the high that you got from drinking and even sometimes having flings became addicting and it felt satisfactory in the way you felt autonomy over your body once again.

You'd ignore the calls from your parents and family including your in-laws, especially any communication from your ex. You had ghosted the situation. The most emotionally taxing period of your life was now being forcefully ignored. You'd spend your time if not partying, then out clubbing. Even when you weren't out on benders, you'd stay up all night and indulge in the fact you were being taken care of by friends. And while you deeply appreciated their hospitality, it was also a double-edged sword. You had dropped out of college, you were no longer reliable and the flings and high feelings were no longer distracting you from the fact that you had some serious issues to deal with.

It got to a point where you'd lay in whoever's spare room and drown in thoughts about the situation you were in. A year before then, you had been stuck with your ex, and somehow a year and a half later you had no idea what that situation was like in that home.

Anxiety and suffocating emotions would swallow you often as the memories of your toxic and abusive ex would soon follow the baby girl you had given birth to. Niyuki. You'd remember her smile, the way she giggled, and how active she was. Although you had only spent about a few months or so with her, you'd remember her bright smile. You'd remember the way her eyes shone when she looked at new things or heard new words—how her face always lit up when she heard your voice, felt your presence, or saw your face. The emptiness without her would eat at you and it was time to forcefully welcome a new cycle of you falling into a depression once again.

At this point, you had lost your job, didn't have any urge to pick up any new hobbies or skills and you'd lay in bed all day. Going out until early mornings trying to ignore the fact that you weren't happy in your current state no longer worked anymore. It was a draining process to get back up but you were willing to give your life a go again. You started looking for jobs that hopefully had good pay and were willing to hire someone with this big of a time gap in their resume. While still couch hopping, you still had places to stay so fortunately you didn't need to worry about that.

When you eventually came around to wanting to be in Niyuki's life again, it was too late. Of course, when you had finally decided to start to better yourself and the suffocating feeling of postpartum had slowly dwindled over time, he was there to make sure that you couldn't take control back of your life. Your ex had found out why you had been gone for so long and eventually had things filed so that he would have sole custody. It seemed as though no matter what you did, he was always ten steps ahead of you. And this time you knew that your support from your family was even less than before.

He had swindled the courts and your families to the point that he painted you as a deadbeat and to the courts, it didn't seem as though there was any evidence to contradict that. Eventually, as you went through counseling and legal support were you able to at least gain visitation, an absence of early childhood not being any signs or indicators that you were unfit to see your own daughter.

It was humiliating settling back into your life and getting back up on your feet. Your parents demanded that you would stay with them as a reassurance that you were serious about getting your shit together and you didn't want to argue. Although with their calloused nature sometimes, they did take care of you well. You couldn't tell what they were thinking but they treated you as gently as they could. Even your family members would come and help out from time to time and it made your recovery better. As stated by the courts, as long as the grandparents (either your parents or in-laws) were there to supervise, a social worker, or the dreaded last option, your ex, was there you would be able to spend time with your daughter.

Months would pass and soon years would follow. When you had shown no signs of negligence or malice occurring in your visits, the judge allowed that you didn't need supervision. Your ex protested but it went unheard. Plus your willingness to get your life together showed your dedication so it was a blessing that you were able to get back to a somewhat decent and regular life despite what has happened. Of course the label that had been placed on you wasn't fully gone, but you were at least able to see your own daughter again.

Which is why you deeply cherish moments like this. After inspections at your apartment, the courts approved that your daughter has now been allowed to stay a few days at your place, and this weekend she was scheduled to stay with you. She would get dropped off by him on Thursdays after school, but you limited the talk to only what was important. Usually, on the first day you get her for the week, you do something with her that she's been wanting to do. As much as you wanted to do it right away, you did make sure her homework was done (she would do it at school just so she could spend more time with you though). Despite her determination, you would still check her work and teach her the things she got wrong much to her dismay. You'd make sure you're on time to drop her off to her evening classes and still wake up early to cook her breakfast every Friday morning. Then you'd drop her off and then pick her up at the end of the day seeing as she had no evening classes on weekends.

"We're here, we're here!" Niyuki cheered, the sweet but mischievous smile never leaving her face when around you.

"It's so pretty out! Wanna get some ice cream, Niyuki?"

"Yes, please!"

After you park your car you hop out and help her out of her seat, holding out your hand for her to take as she knows the routine already. Niyuki admires the familiar park although she has been to numerous times. The way she gazes at everything looks as though this is her first time seeing the place, and this kind of wonder behind her eyes isn't unique to this particular place. No matter how many times she has been somewhere or seen something, her eyes always shine with curiosity and wonder. You can't help but watch her with a faint smile, never wanting to forget what her face looks like ever again.

"Which ice cream do you want, Niyuki?" You ask once you two reach the truck, an assortment of colorful ice cream pictures is decorated on the side of the vehicle.

"Hmm…." Niyuki thoughtfully hums. She raises her free hand to comically tap on her chin as she thinks, the gesture urging a laugh from both you and the ice cream salesman. "Can I have the one with the," She leans closer and points to it, "SpongeBob with the bubblegum, please!"

You think to yourself as you settle for something that's to your tastes, relaying your order to him and searching for your wallet to pay for the cold, sweet treats.

You look over at the man and he nods before leaving to the back, "Coming right up."

In no time at all you two are grabbing ice cream and heading to the playscape. Today was a bit hotter than what you were both expecting so you made a challenge that whoever was able to eat their ice cream without being messy gets to go to bed late tonight. You knew you'd win but it was still amusing to challenge her as her bright spirit came along with a competitive one.

In the midst of you two finishing up your ice cream, a younger but familiar voice calls out to your daughter. You look around confused before spotting a younger girl running towards Niyuki and then engulfing her in a bear hug.

"Mizuki!" Your daughter squeals as they both tightly embrace, her popsicle long forgotten now.

"I didn't know you were coming to the park today!" Mizuki said as she pulled away, still holding onto her best friend. Their bond started from the mere fact that their names sounded similar.

"Yeah, my mommy brought me!" Niyuki pulls away to pull at your dress.

"My dad brought me as a surprise, so I guess it's okay we didn't know!"

The two of them were pretty endearing you couldn't lie. They had been to the same Pre-K together before attending elementary together.

So far you had only met her mother and she was pretty kind. You only knew so much about her though and to your knowledge, she is happily engaged at this point. You two would talk often when the two played, often sharing play dates when it was your turn to have Niyuki on the weekends. That's how Niyuki and Mizuki were able to twin, have sleepovers, etc. While having other friends at school, those two were joined at the hip.

That's why you were utterly confused to hear about her father.

You knew nothing about him except for the fact that he and Mizuki's mother mutually decided that things just weren't working out. It's not like she knew much about your ex either. It seemed as though the separation of parents helped bond the two kids, but you felt saddened at how completely different the two situations were. You sometimes worried if Niyuki was embarrassed by this knowing it wasn't always easy at school due to the teasing.

"Mizuki!" A deeper voice calls out to the young girl. With the young girl's name being called, she turns around and excitedly waves him over. You pause in your tracks as you take him in.

Ashy blonde hair that resembles an explosion sits at the top of his head smothered in appearance by his hat, while his eyes are also covered by a pair of what appeared to be designer sunglasses. He sported a relaxed fit, a gray tank top with a light mesh patterned throw-over that did nothing but tease the muscles underneath the cloth, the colors on it being black and white. The look is finished off with black baggy pants and some boots. You could tell he was attractive even without the cover-up. As you finish up the assessment of your daughter's friend's (hot) dad, it occurs to you the fact that he had sunglasses on doesn't hide the fact that you were totally just checking him out.

"Mizuki, I told you to stop running off like that." He grabs the young girl and gives her a playful nuggy.

"Sorry Daddy!" Mizuki giggles and slips away from him and runs to hide behind you instead, your daughter following. They both peek from behind you, and you have no other choice but to introduce yourself.

"Hi, you're Mizuki's dad, I'm guessing? I'm Y/N, Niyuki's mom." You smile warmly.

He nods at your assumption, his expression still the same as before. "Katsuki, it's great to finally meet the mother of this other troublemaker's friend." He playfully steps in Mizuki's direction and she immediately runs to your other side, giggling.

Something about him was eerily familiar. You couldn't place your finger on it, but you simply chalked it up to the fact you have probably seen him in passing at a few of their birthday parties or so. But something about that didn't feel right… Either way, you ignore it. It wasn't a bad feeling but the fact you couldn't place your finger on it would later down the road bug you. You decide to ask instead.

"Have I seen you—"

"Daddy, can we go to Niyuki's house to watch movies now?" Mizuki cuts you off in the middle of your question, undoubtedly earning a glare from her father.

"Mizuki, what'd I tell you about interrupting people when they talk?" Bakugo lifts his sunglasses this time, his gaze revealing he was solely looking at her.

She pouts using you as a shield once again before tugging on your clothes. "Sorry oba-san…" Mizuki says with one of the deadliest puppy faces you've ever seen. There was no doubt she was one of the cutest 6-year-olds you have ever seen. How could you be annoyed with a look like that?

"It's okay, Mizuki. What were you asking?" You ask them and turn better, bending down a bit to be at both of the girl's levels.

"Can we please watch movies in Niyuki's playroom? Pleeaaseeee?" Mizuki asks and your daughter steps up to beg as well.

"Please, Mommy!! We'll be good too!" Niyuki reasons.

"I'm not sure, ladies…" You trail off as you consider that maybe Katsuki himself probably planned out for the afternoon and didn't want to forcefully make him commit to an impromptu earlier playdate.

"It's alright." Katsuki pipes up and you three look back at him. He lightly shrugs and answers as if he could read your mind, "We were going to play it by ear for the rest of the day anyways."

The two children couldn't quite comprehend the second bit of what he said, but they did understand that it was a yes from what he said in the beginning. They gleefully look at you and start tugging and hugging at you.

"Please, Mommmyyy!" Niyuki pleads, now joining in on giving you a hard to disapprove of puppy look as well.

You lightly laugh and nod your head, finally pulling them in for a proper hug and then giving them a tickle to fend off their offensive stance. "Okay, okay! We can do the movie night! But I want you two to at least spend an hour or so here before agreeing to let you two be cooped up inside for the night."

"Okay!" They exclaim in unison. The moment they break free of your grasp is when they run to the playscape. You sigh as you stand up and give Katsuki a soft smile before properly sitting down on one of the benches. He's close second to following your lead, you both now watching as the two girls play with each other as well as other kids. It seemed most parents decided today was a great day to let their kids out. Mostly because it would tire them out for the night which was a plus.

"I wasn't expecting Niyuki's mother to be so beautiful," Katsuki randomly says, cutting the silence. You look at him with a surprised look on your face, a blush starting to rise on your complexion.

"I could say the same for Mizuki's father." You bashfully laugh and un-subconsciously move to adjust your clothes. Admittedly you were not as designer dressed as he was, nor were you in your best fit. One thing to notice other than his attractiveness is that he has impeccable style. Something that shocked you a little since men in their 20s (especially with kids) don't seem to care too much these days. It wouldn't shock you if he had some sort of unconventional job.

He turns to you when you respond, a teasing smirk now dawning on his face. You don't miss the look-over he gives you and you're sure that he wasn't trying to hide it either. "You know they'll be all tired before they reach halfway through the first movie…"

"That is true…" You play into his words as you look forward instead. You feel your heart start to race when he rests his arm on the back of the bench behind you. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the cloth and welcome it. The weather was too hot but his touch was something you were starting to get curious about. "I guess that'll just leave us two to relax then."

"I could help you with that, I'm a pro at saving people."

You hum at his words, "You're a chivalrous man, that's uncommon these days," a teasing smile to rival him now finds its way on your face. "What else are you good at, Katsuki?"

"I'm also really good with my hands." Katsuki humors you, his hand shifting near your shoulder where his arm lay. "Pretty strong too."

"Ah, so those muscles aren't just for show?" Feeling bold, you reach to rest your hand on his thigh, his muscles immediately flexing under your touch.

He leans in closer to whisper in your ear as he answers, his hand now resting lightly on your shoulder. "I gotta make sure I'm always in shape to save beautiful women like you."

A buzzing near your touch catches you off guard as you try to not completely fold at his words. A catchy ringtone soon follows the buzzing and it's now apparent that what you were feeling was his phone. He pulls away with a huff and pulls out his phone, excusing himself as he answers it.

You exhale a breath you didn't realize you were holding in as he leaves. You can't remember the last time you had talked to a male, much less flirted. Most of your days surrounded working and finishing up school as you wanted nothing but the best for your kid. You didn't go out often anymore, and if you did, you only stuck around with your friends. You couldn't complain but feeling so affected like this was starting to make you feel nervous, almost like when you had got back out into the dating world the first time. You tried not to think about those thoughts.

Now, you were back to watching the girls again and they seemed to be having a blast. The day's heat didn't phase them at all and they played to their heart's content. It seemed as though they were playing cops & robbers with the other kids, and honestly, you didn't care what they were doing as long as they were being safe. The good thing about the friendship between the two was that they always looked out for each other; never mind the fact that their circumstances brought them closer together.

Even with how hard you've been trying to do this mother thing, inescapable thoughts always plagued your mind. Mainly about the fact if your daughter truly wanted to stay with you. This whole arrangement of only getting to see your child three days a week has been going on for about a year and some change now. You know that it'd be too early for her to get "tired" of you, but you can't help the fear of her getting sick of you. One thing was for certain is that you definitely are not as well off as her father although you did make sure to pick up extra shifts when you wanted to get her something real nice.

However, your moment of contemplation comes to an end when two girls come barreling towards you, their approaching giggles making you snap out of your thoughts.

"Mommy!"

"Yes?" Your eyes refocus and you smile softly at the two girls, their wild energy showing how much they truly were out there on the playground having fun.

"Can we have some ice cream please!" Mizuki asks, tugging your arm.

"Please, please, please, PLEASEEE!" Niyuki begs.

You gape a bit overwhelmed at the two young energies, trying to reason with yourself as Niyuki had already gotten ice cream prior. You were sure her best friend did as you knew that both her parents loved to spoil her—even before you had an introduction to Katsuki. It was a hot day and you didn't seem to mind, you were getting pretty hot as well…

"... Okay, but that's the last before we head home! When you finish, that's enough park time."

Your answer is to their standards as they both shower you with affection to thank you for caving into their cuteness. You roll your eyes but the smile doesn’t disappear as you keep an eye on them as they wander to the truck.

"Sorry 'bout that," The new but familiar voice calls out as he walks up to you. "Important business and shit."

Your brows raise at the casual curse and laugh a little, folding your arms as you look up at him. "No problem, but I did tell them that we will be leaving as soon as they finish their ice cream." You inform, nodding your head towards their direction as you keep an eye out for them.

"Great timing, I was about to talk to you about that."

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

The two girls were happier than ever riding together back to your apartment. They sang along to their favorite songs, played I Spy, and talked about all sorts of things you expect from children. It's easier to tune them out when you're around them long enough.

Their excitement continued when you got to your home. As soon as you reached your unit the two beelined to the kitchen after dropping their shoes and bags at the door. And yes, you guessed it, they had matching pairs too. Niyuki knew to go to the kitchen first thing though as she knew you would make something in the meantime before the movie started.

"You two know the rules! Stay near the island to avoid getting bit by sharks!" You called out to them as you fixed up the entryway. You listen out to hear them, still hearing them squeal and toy around in there. You slip off your shoes, adding them to the rest of the shoes before lazily pulling on your house slippers. "The sharks are coming in five… four… three…!" Your warning does the trick as by the time you reach the kitchen they're both sitting in their respective seats and both looking mischievous and peeking at you behind their hands. You make a show of surveying the room as if you can't see where they are and the girls are now "safe" for following your directions. "It seems as though the sharks are clear!"

They celebrate the win, now eager to watch you work your magic.

You three had a fun time as you tried your best to make sure they were safe (the entire time you were internally panicking to make sure everything was okay). Niyuki liked watching you cook and you were more than happy to help her learn as well as do some hands-on stuff. It was only natural that her best friend would follow suit in her curiosity. Niyuki's sole enjoyment of watching you cook is what encourages you to do it more often and get better at it too.

Now there was an assortment of snacks aside from their main meal. It was true that you spoiled her a wee bit when she was with you, but you couldn't help it. Niyuki was your everything and when times were needed you were able to say no.

Once you set up their bowls with their food, the doorbell rings. You figured it was the man who would make another appearance for the night.

"Alright girls, bring your food to the room." You command and watch them leave before making it out into the hallway, finally answering the door when they are both in the designated room. "Katsuki!" You smile and open the door wider.

The blonde-haired male grins at you and holds up the childishly bright bags for Mizuki. "Sorry for taking so long. This should be everything." You nod and reach for it, his actions making you pause as he pulls it a bit towards him as if to hold it from you. "Is it alright if I see Mizuki before I leave?"

You feel your skin flush in embarrassment, hastily stepping to the side and opening the door more to let him in. "I-I am so sorry! Of course, you can," You close the door and lock it behind him when he finally steps in and gets his shoes off. He doesn't need much introduction when two heads pop out from the doorway of the playroom, one squealing in excitement as she runs up to her father to hug him.

"Daddy you're here!" Mizuki exclaims and pulls him in the direction of the room. "Come look at Niyuki's playroom!"

"I'm not sure--"

"No, no it's okay! Let me clean up the kitchen in the meantime." You smile as the three make their way to the room.

Sticking to your word, you waste no time cleaning up. You have a slight hum as you move around the kitchen, appreciating how well today has gone so far. You even met your daughter's best friend, hot dad… who would've thunk? You bite your lip to suppress a giggle that threatens to escape you, a giddy smile still on your face. Gosh, when was the last time you ever found someone attractive? It felt like forever since you've been focusing on parenting, school, and not to mention having a job.

You think about how well the man dressed and how good he smelled. You had to hand it to him, he was really put together and you could see why Mizuki's mother let him in the first place. He didn't seem too bad personality-wise either. Katsuki was the right amount of cheeky and arrogant that was the complete opposite of your ex. It didn't help that his well-defined muscles and physique showed with his great fashion taste. Luckily for you though, Katsuki felt the same way about you.

When he had first seen you, there was no mistaking in the way he immediately found you attractive. Dressed in your form-fitting sundress surely accentuates everything about your womanly body. The way the cloth hung to your mounds and all the beautiful parts of your limbs. But unlike you, he was able to hide how much he was checking you out. Except while indoors he no longer needed sunglasses and he was sure you were feeling the same way about him.

Katsuki's eyes are trained on your butt as you flawlessly move around, the color of your dress perfectly folding around the two globes of your ass as you move. He leans against the doorway once he finally looks up at the back of your head, crossing his arms. "Hey," Katsuki's voice calls out to you. You whip your head around to look at him, eyes enraptured with how attractive the young man is. "Sorry for the weird behavior earlier at the park…"

"It's okay! Really. Stuff comes up sometimes, glad that you were able to get it settled." You turn off the sink and dry your hands, turning to face him as you place the towel on the island in front of you. You don't miss the way his eyes drag down to check out your body.

"The girls will probably knock before they even finish halfway through the movie," Katsuki predicts, his eyes predatory when he looks up at you. "could make it up to you while they're busy."

You shy as you two make proper eye contact. "How could you possibly make it up to me?" You bat your lashes at him, a faint blush heating your skin at the implications of his offer.

An attractive grin spreads across his lips as he pushes off your doorway. "I could show you but it's better if we do it somewhere private."

It takes everything in you to hide the chill that runs up your spine at how he easily toyed with ideas without being so vulgar with it. As if your body is moving on its own, you walk towards him and flash a smile that has equal parts of mischief and seduction.

"I'm interested."

As soon as that door closes behind you two, there is no denying the tension that fills the room. His lips are soft and hot against yours and the feeling has your body tingling. His heavy and calloused hands are tight on your hips as he pulls you closer to his chest, your hands placing themselves on his biceps to try and steady yourself against him. Katsuki hums in satisfaction, tasting your sweet lip gloss on his mouth, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip to ask for more. You willingly comply and open your mouth although timid about the experience.

You were feeling fresh in the kitchen but now that you two were getting down to it, you were starting to feel shy again. Up until now, it had practically been years since you dated a man, much less kissed or hooked up with one. There was no denying that you were attracted to this man but your mind was starting to cloud with doubts that you wish would just go away. You try to ignore it erstwhile you feel his strong hands slip down to grab your rump through the beloved sundress you wore today.

You softly groan in the kiss as he pulls away, eyes with innocent determination to see this through. His eyes are hot on you and it takes everything in you not to look away. He walks you to your bed, instantly getting on top of you once he has you adjusted to his liking. In a hurry, you move to untie one of the straps on your shoulder, his heavy hand stopping you as he leans into your ear to convey his true thoughts

"'Gonna fuck you in this dress, princess," Katsuki smirks down at you when he pulls away and stands up properly. He tugs you towards the edge of the bed so that your legs hang off the edge, his hands on your hips. He leans down to give your lips a chaste kiss before spreading your legs and kneeling between them. Katsuki's hands softly grip your ankles, the tips of his fingers disappearing at the hem of your dress. His hands slowly drag the fabric up, his hot lips that were once on yours now kissing their way up on your left leg as took his time exposing his skin. "Keep looking at me, baby." Katsuki directs when you lose eye contact with him as he finally meets your inner thigh, his teeth giving the plush skin a teasing bite. You softly whimper, the apparent wet spot on your panties deepening.

He groans at your scent and slightly pulls away to look at your cunt, his hands now placed on the back of your thighs and pressing it to your body. He takes his knuckle to rub up against your labia, adding more pressure once he reaches the top of your cunt to play with your clit. You wantonly moan as he continues to rub at your clit, the fabric of your panties creating a friction that was heavenly but frustrating you greatly. You needed to feel his fingers on you and this wasn't cutting it.

"Katsuki," You breathe out, hips bucking into his handling. He simply hums at you calling out his name, his rubbing slowing down as his gaze now has a teasing glint to it. "N-Need more, please, Katsuki," There's a whimper in your voice, only barely hinting at the desperation that this man can stir inside you.

"More've what?" Katsuki grins at how flushed your expression is, your face dreamy as ever.

"Fingers, need them." You manage to prop yourself up on your elbow as the other reaches down to tug at the panties on your hip. Katsuki snickers at your impatience, his thumb pulling aside your panties to expose your soaked cunt to him. He gives you one last kiss on your inner thigh before he wordlessly dives in.

Katsuki applies his tongue flat against your cunt and gives you a long stripe up until it reaches your clit, just like what he had done with his knuckle moments ago. A breathless moan escapes your lips as he starts to swirl his tongue against the erect bud, his textured and wet muscle taking pride in its work. He closes his mouth around your cunt, leaning more to taste more of the slick that your cunny produces. The vibrations of him moaning from the taste makes you shiver, this feeling of having your cunt licked like this felt so familiar but foreign at the same time. His eyes stay glued to you as he pleasures you, finding everything you do so damn attractive to look at.

Lapping a bit more he pulls away and spits on your cunt using his fingers to lube you up more. He wraps one of his arms around your thigh and holds it to his shoulder, holding you in place as he finally inserts two thick fingers into your cunt. Soon enough, his mouth is back into your count, the tip of his tongue playing with the sensitive bud at the top of your pussy.

The sounds grow increasingly more obscene as he shamelessly laps at your cunt and works his fingers into you. His digits curl to find your g-spot, softly teasing the spot and eliciting more volume from you. You quickly try to hold back how loud you are, walls clenching around his fingers at how good it feels. You bite your lip and suppress a loud groan from slipping out, hips attempting to pull back with no use. Katsuki keeps you locked in close to him and ups the ante by using the tips of your fingers to continue to stroke at the sensitive spot of your g-spot. His tongue now applies more pressure to your clit to bring you further.

"'Suki--" You call out, your hand coming down to grip and tug at his hair. Shivers rack through your body as a long and drawn-out orgasm hits you, his movements aiding to help you bring you down from it. He pulls his fingers out and presses his tongue flat against your cunt to clean up the mess between your legs. You move your hips back in protest and he loosens his grip to let you do so.

You watch with bated breath as he starts to unbuckle his pants, your eyes glued to what is soon to be revealed. Katsuki's movements to get his garment removed are so fluid that you almost miss it when he pulls the condom out from his back pocket. He tears open the soft foil with his teeth and applies the slippery protection onto his hard cock. You instinctively open your legs when he draws closer, a soft mewl leaving your lips when he aligns his tip to your opening.

"You good?" Katsuki softly asks, his other hand holding your thigh open, thumb rubbing your thigh as he awaits your answer. You nod your head and grind your hips against his tip, hand coming up to pull him closer to you as you answer.

"Give it to me, Katsuki."

The man grins at your plea and lays you on your side, choosing to slowly sink himself into you from your approval. The obscene moan you let out gets covered up by Katsuki's lips finding itself upon yours again, happily taking in your willful noises. At first, he takes long and drawn thrusts, trying to accommodate his size for your comfort. This position allows no remorse and you already knew what you were in for when he put you in it. When you two separate from the kiss, his lips are quick to find your neck, his hands now respectively on your ass and thigh to hold you in place. Amid a deeper thrust, he gives an equally rough bite, the force making you moan. You relax your leg more to allow him to hold you better, him taking your actions as the go-ahead to pick finally pick up the pace.

You feel as though you are on cloud nine with his wet kisses and teasing bites covering your neck, his thrusts and handling furthering your ecstasy. His skin smacks against yours as he starts to get rougher with his thrusts, hands gripping you tighter too. You grip at the sheets below you and tilt your head back, mouth agape as you so desperately try to keep up with him. He gives your ass a spank when he feels your pussy clench around him, an animalistic growl coming from him as he repeats this. He pulls away from your half-covered chest and glares at the top of your dress, now getting annoyed at the article of clothing.

Katsuki doesn't slow his hips for a second as he more than easily rips open the top of your dress and earns a discontent whine from you that gets forgotten when he presses a bit deeper into your cunt. His lips press themselves to your newly exposed skin, his tongue happily taking in one of your nipples to suckle and nibble on. There's no mistaking that he's having free reign in the marks on your skin but you're too wrapped on how everything feels to care. An expletive leaves your mouth in a string of whispers when he angles his hips to hit your g-spot, prompting you to reach down and rub your clit for more stimulation.

"Fuck," Katsuki cusses under his breath as he leans up to watch you take his cock, nails digging into your skin and enjoying the way your pussy envelopes his cock. Not to mention the hot visual of you playing with yourself furthering his contentment. He lifts your leg a bit under your knee and quickens his pace. He watches with hungry eyes as your tits bounce at the force, a pretty face to match and his marks all over your body's skin. He groans as his thrusts start to feel heavier, his orgasm impending. He nearly loses it when you grind back against him to chase your release.

There was an air of innocence that surrounded you but everything you did said otherwise. Katsuki simply couldn't get enough of you and he simply didn't want to. Fuck, he wasn't expecting his daughter's best friend mom to be super hot and sweet.

"C-Cunming…!" You mewl, brows scrunch in concentration as you finish off on his cock. His swift thrusts help in coaxing it out of you, slick dripping from your cunt and messy-ing up your inner thighs. He swoops down to give you an open kiss, tongue pressed against yours haughtily as he follows your climax with his own after a few more pumps.

After a few lazy and exchanged kisses he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you two. You laugh a little as you wipe the remnants away. "That's the best I've had in a long time." You jokingly cut the silence, a chuckle from him following.

"Could say the same." He softly grunts, pulling out from you, and gently places your legs down. He effortlessly picks you up and rests you further on the bed where your legs can find refuge on the plush mattress. "You okay, need me to get anything?"

The first question confuses you. To your recollection, you had never been asked that before. Not after sex when the deed has already been done and the willing participant has already had their fill. A pang of displaced emotions starts to wrack up inside you, a nervous laugh coming from you when you realize that you spaced out trying to conceptualize what you had just been innocently asked.

"Y-Yeah, I'm good! Thanks for asking," You smile sweetly and the cute expression earns a pat on the cheek from him. Shamelessly, the gesture shot a jolt of arousal straight to your core.

"You got a bathroom around here?"

Following Katsuki's departure leaves you in silence. There was a feeling of dissonance that you couldn't really place your finger on and the fact it was all coming together was undoubtedly giving you the worst post-nut clarity ever. You didn't regret having sex Katsuki, that wasn't the case, but how not sleazy he was certainly opened up your eyes. The male decency that you have been robbed of for so long was finally starting to settle and you didn't like the feeling one bit. Tears start to burn in your eyes and you desperately try to wipe them away the longer you sit in your thoughts.

Fortunately for you though, the doorbell sounds repeatedly which slowly brings you back to the present. Your once feelings of despair and disgust are now turning into annoyance. You take your time slinking out of your bed, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and huff at how disheveled you looked. The dress that you've been dying to wear was now torn and stretched, the condition bringing a pout to your face.

You undress fully and grab one of your robes to cover yourself up with, the piece is a bit scandalous but covering you well. You quietly make your way down the hall to not wake up the two girls (if they were awake they definitely would've interrupted you and Katsuki) and finally make it to the door. You peer into the peephole and softly gasp at the person behind the door. The doorbell starts to buzz loudly again and you angrily fumble to unlock your door, it now also occurs to you that the noise could be disturbing the two young girls' sleep.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" You greet your ex with much-deserved hostility.

Shindo simply rolls his eyes at your annoyance and crosses his arms as if it were your fault for his impatience. "I called and texted you multiple times. I'm here to pick up Niyuki."

You openly scoff at his demand, standing taller at his attempt at showing his dominance. You mirror his actions and cross your arms too.

"She's staying with me for the weekend. Why are you here?"

Your ex mockingly scoffs at you questioning him, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer.

"I need to explain why I want my daughter to be with me? You know, the parent who never neglected her once in her entire life." Shindo looks you up and down, openly grimacing at how fucked out you look. "You can't even control yourself, you have no shame, do you?"

As much as you try to keep up the strong facade, there is no denying the tightening in your chest. You don't want to admit it but his words hurt you deeply. His toxic words were starting to feel all too familiar and your body was starting to shut down.

"The agreement was that she would stay the weekend with me. Niyuki's having a sleepover with her friend, there's no point of you coming here."

"Do you think I fucking care about a "sleepover" when her mother is busy being a tramp when she's distracted?" He shamelessly accuses and shifts his expression to one of fake pity and concern. "Do you think you deserve her, hm? I mean look at you, running around and can't even stay committed to us even when I've tried."

"Watch how you fuckin' talk to her, asshole."

A voice filled with just as much disdain comes from behind you, the sheer amount of aggression battling Shindo's. You immediately turn to look at him, mind moving faster than your body in your shocked state.

"I'm sorry, who the fuck are you exactly?" Shindo tilts his head and reaches out to push the door further to reveal who the man is. He freezes when a blonde and spiked hair catches his eyes first, his mockery of emotions from earlier now turning into real anger and a hint of fear. "Bakugo-?!"

Katsuki grabs the edge of the door and pulls it open wider to allow him more space to pass, making sure not to harm you as he gets between you and your toxic ex. "You wanna repeat that, dickhead?" He fists up his shirt and backs him away from the door. "Is that how a hero treats a woman, eh?"

Shindo curses under his breath, fighting against him. The mach attitudes between the two start to boil over as it's obvious that they have met prior. When it escalates to more than words, you start getting a bit fearful. A more aggressive push from Katsuki prompts you to call out for them to stop. One thing about your ex is that he hated being out matched and there was no denying that Katsuki seemed like the type of guy to beat that out of him. It wasn't until their exchange seemed to elevate in volume and another light next door turned on. You plead for them to stop again, your hand lightly tugging at Katsuki's arm although knowing your touch wouldn't be able to do shit against a muscled man like him. Eventually they do stop on Katsuki's accord, both breathing heavily as they stare down at each other. Your ex aggressively scoffs and shoves Katsuki away from him as he looks between you two, gathering himself.

"Have fun with the little gold digger, Dynamight," Shindo says lowly and bumps shoulders with Katsuki as he leaves.

A heavy silence is left in his wake between you and Katsuki. You tiredly rub your face and breathe out a sigh, the exhale soon turning into a dry sob. Katsuki fidgets awkwardly before reaching out to you and pulling you close, letting you rest your forehead on his chest.

"Fuck, he stresses me out," You mumble against his tank, wiping away your tears. "I'm sorry you had to witness that…"

"Hey, he's fuckin' douchebag, alright? Who gives a fuck what he thinks." Katsuki pills away a bit to cup your chin and forces you to look up at him, the gesture warming your cheeks. "Let's get you cleaned up and you can rant about whatever the fuck you want, it's getting cold." He holds the collar of your robe and gives it a playful tug. You softly nod your head then lead him inside.

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

It had only been two days since you had first met and slept with Katsuki and the smile on your face never seemed to disappear.

Thinking about the man easily brought butterflies to your chest, memories of you two keeping you on cloud nine. After you two had gone back inside Friday night, he had comforted you in many ways. It felt silly to say it—that the foreign feeling you were getting in your chest only had one name: a crush. Not full-blown but enough that every time you thought about your Friday night—past the awful interaction with your ex-boyfriend—was one of the best times you have ever enjoyed yourself with a man.

Katsuki did listen to you. He cleaned you up, cuddled you, kissed you throughout, and eventually you two even two more rounds. Never had you felt so comfortable, so… domestic. It was evident that your bright attitude was something your daughter noticed too.

"Mommy?" Niyuki calls out from the doorway, successfully gaining your attention.

You press the small bento box you were prepping Mizuki to take home closed, a smile on your face as you welcome your daughter to make her way to you. "What's up, munchkin?"

"I have to tell you something," She tugs at your pajama pants, a look far from playful or childish in her eyes. You feel your heart sink a bit at how serious she is, bending down to get face level with her.

"Niyuki? What's wrong?" You hold her arms and pull her closer to you, trying to keep contact with her as she avoids looking at you.

"I don't want to go to Pa's this week, I want to stay with you."

You're taken back from her confession, unsure of how to process it. "What do you mean, 'Yuki? Don't you want to see daddy-?"

"No, I want to stay with you," Niyuki regains her courage to look up at you, establishing how much she truly feels. "I heard you guys last night. I want to stay with you more. Daddy's house isn't nice, I don't like it there anymore."

"Niyuki, I…" You shamefully look away at the fact she bore witness to that awful exchange last night. You felt awful that she had seen it, much less found out how dysfunctional your relationship is. You pull her in for a hug and nuzzle her hair and she is more than willing to take in your embrace. "I am so sorry you had to see that, baby. Mommy will see what she can do about how you feel being at Daddy's house, okay?" You hold her cheeks in your palms and she nods her head in agreement.

She places a kiss on your cheek and swiftly leaves the kitchen as if the exchange didn't happen, leaving you by yourself in the kitchen. You stare off into the distance at the exchange, not sure what to think or do with yourself. It wasn't until you felt a wet sensation coating your cheeks that you realized you were crying.

Faintly down the hall, you could hear Niyuki nagging at her best friend and the two giggling and playing around as children do. You sit down on the floor and rest against one of the cupboards as your doubts start to ease themselves, everything in your life turning around so fast that it's hard to grasp.

You had thought for the longest time that Niyuki was simply putting up with you. It is no lie Shindo has more resources than you. The money, house, toys, etc. he has everything you don't. He didn't need to work the extra shifts to make sure she had presents for special occasions, he could easily buy the things she needed and wanted. You thought the only things that could make a child satisfied were the things they could see, touch, and have. You didn't think the small things counted, not when you're an adult where a random Friday could have easily been one of her favorite days in her childhood.

You don't bother wiping the tears from your face as you try to pull yourself together, snot and everything clouding your nasal passage. Oddly you felt numb, like the joy you were feeling was foreign. Nothing felt real but you knew you couldn't stay sitting on your kitchen floor silently crying as you desperately tried to register what the hell your body was going through at the moment. You weakly pull yourself up using the counter to grab a paper towel from the dispenser on the counter and obnoxiously blow your nose into it. You mumble a few cuss words under your breath as you attempt to freshen up as you try coming down from the emotional rollercoaster of this weekend. As much as you wanted time to process this, doing it in a home with a kid who could barge in at any minute was hard. Especially when there are two.

The doorbell rings and you glance at the time on the stove. It was a bit early for Mizuki's mother to pick her up, but you decided you'd just invite her in until the child was ready to leave.

You lazily walk over to the door and peer into the peephole to double-check, your face twisting into an expression of shock as you pull open the door and wordlessly confront the person on the other side.

"... Do you normally answer the door looking a mess?" Katsuki teases, giving you a look over and lingering at the places he seems to like.

You jokingly nudge him and roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you stand a bit taller, feeling your heartbeat pound against your chest. "Haha, very funny." You sniffle and wipe your cheek, the gesture not going unnoticed.

"Did something happen? Did that prick come over and harass you again?" Katsuki grows angrier at the idea, his expression souring.

"No, no, it wasn't that." You quickly ease his concerns and this time remind yourself to look around to make sure there aren't any extra ears before stepping out and closing the door behind you. "This morning, Niyuki told me she wants to stay with me, not just on the weekends." You look up at him finally, your lips immediately curling into a soft smile once you're able to say it out loud.

He grins and pulls you in for a hug, giving you a squeeze when you wrap your arms around his shoulder and squeal. He rocks you back and forth before pulling away while maintaining his hold on your waist. "This shit feels unreal, you know?" You lightly laugh as you look up at him, a radiant smile on your face.

"Her mother is amazing, of course she'd want to stay with you." Katsuki gives your hip a squeeze with his free hand, the action pulling your attention to the solid object digging into your side, the feeling making you look down at his hand.

"Oh," Katsuki steps back and holds up a slim, medium box that had a ribbon tied around it, holding it up for you. "Here."

"For me?"

"Who else, dumbass?"

You snort at his bluntness and shoot him a playful glare as you open the gift. It takes you a few seconds to realize what it is, a gasp following your surprise at the expensive dress, and start to close it back up. "Oh my god, I-I can't have this!"

"Why not? You'll look perfect in it." Katsuki pulls you closer with his hand that was still on your hip, his other landing on your abandoned one. "Pretty girls deserve pretty things."

You playfully push him away and look at the box again before looking up at him. "Seriously, for me?"

"Yes." Katsuki holds your chin up and softly rubs your bottom lip under the pad of his thumb. "And you better get used to it, I'll be buying you a lot of those."

"Why?" You laugh, leaning into him and tilting your head up to challenge him.

"'Cuz I'll be tearing a lot more stuff off of that pretty body of yours," He leans closer to brush his lips against yours with a smirk on his face, "Plus, I need an excuse to see you again."

He seals his promise with a kiss, hands coming up to hold your waist as he presses himself against you.

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

It had been a few months since you and Katsuki had officially started dating. Your mood significantly has changed for the better and made it a lot easier to adjust to having your daughter now finally staying with you instead of her father.

It was hard being able to advocate for yourself but the verdict was in favor since the child should be able to choose where to stay. It did help the fact that your new boyfriend, who you had learned and realized is a top pro-hero in the country, just so happened to bring the best kind of reputation to the courts.

As adults do, you did talk to Mizuki's mother before deciding to fully go through with dating the man. Ultimately it is true that she can't decide what you two do, but you owed it to her for being such a good friend to you and didn't want to step over any toes. She was more than happy to give her blessing and practically threw him over to you, more than happy to let things rest since she is soon to be married anyway.

There was nothing that could prepare you for this turn of events and every day it was easier to wake up feeling happy and blessed. Currently, you just got your culinary degree so that also means one less stress and burden off of your shoulders and another venture soon on the horizon: a head chef.

You just adjusted your graduation gown and looked around for your family, your face immediately lighting up seeing them not too far from where the graduates are exiting. It took almost everything in you not to run in excitement when you were finally able to make it towards them.

"Congratulations, honey!" Your parents are first to engulf you in a hug, the rest of the group close behind. You chuckle as two smaller bodies take your legs, none other than Niyuki and Mizuki claiming each side.

"Congratulations, Mommy!" Niyuki grins up at you.

"Thank you, Niyuki." You lean down to kiss her on the forehead and do the same for Mizuki.

"Do I get a kiss too?"

You look up at the inquisitor, a grin sprouting out on your face as you stand back up. "Of course."

He pulls you in and gives you a kiss, the action getting a mix of responses to the show of affection. Katsuki presents to you a beautifully arranged bouquet along with a promise that there were a lot more gifts back at his place.

Most days in the past you prayed for times like this, but now you were happy you didn't have to anymore.

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #pro hero!bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha oneshots #mha oneshots #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #n/sfw #sav's saucin'

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Big spoon or little spoon

With the upper moons again bc I love them sm + tamayo <333 links are added too!!!

Warnings: female bodied reader, mention of boobs, touchy demons, hugging, slight mention of killing but in a funny way

Akaza

- both big spoon and little spoon.

- akaza loves holding you like this but also wants you to hold him the same way once in a while

-"You're so warm. Try not to move away from me I'll get cold" and "hold my hands too"

- has a habit of holding your hands and playing with them until he sleeps

- likes to cuddle with you mainly when he sleeps, which is during the day

Douma

- little spoon

- lays on your chest or stomach like this, but mainly your chest. He has a habit of rubbing your stomach and humming

- "youre boobs are softer than my regular pillows!!" and "you smell so nice"

- if his hand isn't on your stomach, it's on your hips so he can pull you as close as he can to you

Kokushibo

- big spoon

- he just likes having your head on his chest with his hand around your waist. Isn't a big fan of your legs being thrown on him, so kokushibo would either push your legs off him or turn himself to face you

- "you're... quite clingy tonight" and "I kind of like this"

- If you're lying on his chest, he likes to grab your hand, putting it on his chest, too. He'll give you forehead kisses but only when you're sleeping and definitely giving them to you when he has to leave while you're sleeping

Nakime

- little spoon

- She doesn't ask. Not because she's shy but because she expects it

- she'll always have her back turned to you and move herself closer and closer to you until you have her like this in your arms

- isn't much of a talker with it but she has her back turned to you to hide her smile and flushed face

Tamayo

- big spoon

- she notices that you move a lot in your sleep and overall a bad sleeper so she likes to hold you like this

- "want me to pet your head until you sleep?" And "y/n wrap your arms around me too. Feel comfortable yet?"

- Tamayo cuddles you when yushiro isn't around. That way, you can sleep without the fear of a demon killing you

Aizetsu

- little spoon

- always runs to you or takes you to you're shared bed and lays on you like this (the one with the cat) when Sekido yells at him or if Karaku and Urogi are just bothering him

- "the sound of your heartbeat is so relaxing..." And "Wait, don't go to the bathroom yet just hold it in"

- very clingy with it and would get very sour if you had to leave him for just a few seconds

Sekido

- little spoon

- this man is not a cuddler. In fact he would either yell at you or push you away, it just has to be a good day when you hold him like this

- "1 minute. That's all you're getting, after that get the fuck off me" and then he's not moving letting you hug him like a big teddy bear until you sleep

- will yell at you in embarrassment if you bring up the times he's let you spoon him

Karaku

- big spoon

- he finds a lot of comfort in your holding boobs but it doesn't mean it sexually (sometimes). His hands will go up your top just to cup your boobs, not caring about the size he just likes hugging in this position to do so

- "stop squirming! I'm not doing anything perverted!" And "they are like squish soft balls"

- likes to nuzzle his face on the back of your neck or shoulder until he sleeps

Urogi

- big spoon

- has you like this in his arms but wraps his legs around you too, whether you're facing him or having your back to him basically locking you in place

- "see? my claws aren't so bad! Other than killing, they're cool and soft, huh?" And "what if we sleep in a tree like this?"

- rests his chin on your shoulder and nuzzles his whole face on your neck to feel more of your warmth

- when he's about to sleep his wings will close in wrapping you both up like a nice thick blanket

#demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #akaza x reader #kokushibo x reader #douma x reader #aizetsu x reader #karaku x reader #sekido x reader #urogi x reader #nakime x reader #tamayo x reader #upper moons

[sc0tters]

Pent Up | Adam Fantilli

summary: being Adam’s roommate comes with its perks, and a whole load of sexual tension.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, face riding, p in v, swearing.

word count: 2.39k

authors note: don’t think I’ve ever brought Gavin into one of these before so here he is. I behaved even tho kei told me not to 😝 and yeah, wrote this like hella late so you’re getting one thought carried on. And let’s hope that this meets faithlynn’s expectations cause we don’t know when she’s gonna read one of these again 🫶

When Gavin tasked you with being the friendly face in Columbus that Adam needed you swore it wouldn’t be hard.

You were a year and a half older than your brother and were beyond excited when your brother got drafted to the team a mere twenty minute drive from your apartment.

Having had met Adam on more than one occasion during the previous school year it was no surprise that you two clicked within weeks of him arriving in Ohio, even going as far as to give him the second bedroom in your apartment.

It was clear that Adam didn’t want to live alone and you really could have done with the money, and who really says no to a hot new roommate?

Yes you knew it was wrong to see your brothers friend in that light. But Gavin really did seem to have the skills of picking friends that all fell right into your type: tall and hot.

Much to your irritation though Adam and you kept things purely platonic. Even going as far as avoiding the apartment so that the other could get some quiet time to fuck someone.

You knew it was hypocritical because you also abused this benefit of being friends with your roommate but the few times you participated in it you brought home different guys. Adam on the other hand after two months of bringing home different girls finally settled on one, Kayla.

She seemed nice and thankfully didn’t go to your university but you couldn’t help but get frustrated each time you saw him bring her home.

That’s what brought on the plan of tonight.

Your friends invited you out to some party that a frat on campus was hosting “you are getting all dressed up for game day.” Adam pointed out letting a soft laugh fall from his lips as he watched you apply a shimmery highlighter to your nose.

Your lips pursed together at the realisation that you had let his reminder slip your mind “I’m not coming tonight.” You announced digging through your lipsticks as his hand reached out to stop you “you aren’t coming?” He repeated your words as he frowned.

Adams gaze hardened as you used your other hand to grab your lipgloss “some of the girls wanted to go to this frat for a party and when they said that Justin was gonna be there-” Justin was a guy from your creative writing course in freshman year who thought that you were cute and has since been flirting with you “who the hell is Justin?” The hockey player furrowed his eyebrows at the mention of the boy as you got up running your fingers through your hair “you better not be wearing that to see him.” It was a red dress that cut just above your breasts and ended at the middle of your thighs. A beautiful dress, but not for the Ohio November weather.

You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms unintentionally pushing your breasts up, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Adam “if you want to start commenting on what girls wear Adam.” Your face clearly showed that you were irritated “then I suggest you go and call that little girlfriend of yours, Layla was it?” Before he had a chance to respond there was a knock at the door and the all too familiar sounds of your friends voices “good luck tonight.” You mumbled pressing a kiss to his cheek before you made your way to the front door grabbing your sneakers in the process.

Adam watched with an irritated expression on his face “she knew it was Kayla.” He mumbled before he stomped into his room having to get ready to leave for the game.

If there was a word to describe how poorly Adam played tonight then it wasn’t in his direction as absolute fucking dog shit even complimented how he played. Each time he got the puck he then quickly lost it. If there was a fight he could have gotten into he did, and it got so bad that the penalty box almost felt like it was his friend.

Adam simply couldn’t help but focus on the fact that you were out with some guy who clearly wasn’t going to appreciate you.

The coaches naturally sent him home after a long talking to and even after a shower where all he could smell was that strawberry shower gel that you use, you still weren’t home.

In fact it took you another ninety minutes before you landed back at your door.

You quietly opened the door as you thought that Adam was sleeping so you got the fright of your life seeing him silently staring at the door from his seat “Jesus Adam! You scared me!” Your hand clutched your chest as you shut the door behind you make your way over to where the boy sat.

He remained silent as your hand gripped at his knee “how was the game?” It was you trying to be rude but it was the reminder of you not being there that Adam so desperately wanted to avoid “played like shit.” Adam confessed as he stared at your manicured nails that drew soft figures on his leg “how is Justin?” The distain in his voice was clear making you scoff as you got up.

A frown formed on your lips “shouldn’t you be more worried about Kayla?” You shot back making him follow your actions as he got up “you getting jealous of her or something?” The hockey player towered of you as he stood up

You rolled your eyes “why should I be jealous of someone who I know has a way worse sex life than me.” You knew that Adam had heard you with your vibrator once or twice after you heard him grunt your name in the shower.

Adam clenched his fists as you let out a laugh “good night Adam.” You went to place your hand on his shoulder but instead the boy grabbed your hand pulling you closer to him “you really think I’m a bad fuck?” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth as he sent you a glare “like I couldn’t have you coming in minutes?” He added pressing you against the wall “quicker than that pathetic vibrator of yours? The air in the room went dry as you realised that he knew about that.

You blinked repeatedly “would like to see you try.” Your mouth often got you into trouble and it seemed that today was no different when his lips captured yours.

The hockey player smiled at how your body melted against him “jump,” he ordered wrapping his arms around your legs as he brought you into your bedroom.

To the untrained eye you two looked like a couple who had been touched deprived for days as he let your body fall onto your bed “can’t believe he let you go looking like this.” Adam clicked his tongue taking in the sight that was your body “want to have you on my face.” He confessed making your eyes go wide as he pulled your dress up to the the white panties that made him lick his lips.

You whimpered feeling him hook his fingers in the material “haven’t done that before.” You mumbled as your panties ran down your legs before the boy could throw them somewhere in your room “you trust me?” Adam asked bringing his lips to yours for a quick peck as you nodded.

With one quick movement the boy was laying on your bed as you lowered your hips above his face “baby you aren’t gonna break me, I fucking bench more than you weigh.” Adam cooed watching you pull your dress off before you let your legs hover above his face making him roll his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your legs bringing your cunt to his face.

A squeal left your lips as you were surprised “shit Adam!” You moaned gripping your fingers on the head board.

His tongue found it’s home in your core as his nose hit your clit “you’re actually good at this” your surprise came from the fact that you weren’t used to college boys being good when it came to being good at eating girls out.

Adam responded with a simple smack to your ass that made you jump “behave princess.” The hockey player warned bringing his hand over to your clit “right there.” You cooed feeling the sensation of his beard between your thighs as you rode his face.

You had to admit that you were getting closer to your high as the boy locked eyes with you “I’m gonna-“ you felt your legs clench around his head but that never faltered his movements, in fact that made him quicken his actions as his thumb pressed harder on your clit.

A white cast painted over your eyes as you came, Adam continued to guide your motions as he helped you through your orgasm “too much,” you shook your head “too much.” You repeatedly grabbing ahold of his hair as you tried to stop your movements.

As much as Adam wanted to push you into another orgasm or two before he let you get off of him, he was desperate to slide his cock into your soaked cunt and that was enough for the hockey player to let you off of him.

He lay you down next to him seeing how red your thighs were “sorry,” he apologised pulling his shorts down as he watched you undo your bra.

You smiled shaking your head “just come and fuck me already.” Your vulgar words made him feel for comfortable as Adam reached into his wallet to find a condom “want to do the honours baby?” The hockey player asked handing you the silver packet.

Between a kiss you still focused on wrapping his cock in the latex before you brought it over your clit “such a needy fucking baby for someone who has already had an orgasm tonight.” Adam grunted as he let your cunt swallow his cock.

Your face screwed tight as you adjusted to his size “move, please.” You requested wanting to feel some kind of pace from the hockey player.

His cock throbbed inside your cunt as he picked your legs up so that his cock could slide deeper into your core “what would Gav say about this?” He groaned against the shell of your ear making you cry out in pleasure “bout his big sister getting fucked by his friend?” The hockey player let out a grunt as you clenched around his cock.

His lips danced over your throat leaving sloppy marks as a trail “I don’t know Adam,” your fingers grabbed at the sheet beneath you as you strangely thought back to your brothers requests when it came to how you treated Adam.

Play nice

Be his friendly face

Under no circumstances were you to sleep with him

Okay so maybe the first two were easier to do than the last one but you had lasted more than two months without that one, so surely it had to count for something?

The boy’s efforts switching between sucking and kissing up your throat pulled your attention away from your thoughts “someone is going to see Adam.” You were surprised that you could even form a coherent sentence as your mind felt like it had formed a fog over your thoughts.

He smiled as his teeth nipped at your skin “worried what fucking he might say?” Adam couldn’t even bring himself to say his name out loud as he cringed at the thought “n-no Gav.” You shook your head reminding him of the fact that you were seeing your brother for thanksgiving, a mere two days away.

That made Adam pull his focus from your neck to your lips “could just keep you in turtlenecks.” He grumbled picking your legs up so that he g could press you further into your bed “I’m not gonna last.” You confessed as his lips captured yours.

It made the boys ego grow “I know baby me too.” Adam was waiting for you to come so that he wasn’t the first one as he feared finishing before you “shit A!” You cried out as your hips jerked causing your cunt to clench around his cock as you came.

Your orgasm spurred his on as his head dropped to your shoulder as he let his teeth softly sink into the area of skin “so good baby-so good.” Adam groaned with his last thrust before he let his cock slide out of your cunt.

Adam couldn’t help it when a laugh fell from his lips as he took in your fucked out state “you’re so hot.” He blurted out causing you to look at him with a smile “you are too,” you mumbled rolling over to kiss his lips.

Not even twenty four hours later you were already feeling the consequences of sleeping with him.

The boy smirked as he watched you struggle to sit down “you okay?” Adam grinned seeing you in a vest that highlighted the hickies that marked your neck.

Your core felt tender as you tried to find a comforting position “shut up,” you grumble sending him a glare that made him laugh.

Adam held his hand out to you “think I’ve got a way to make you feel better.” The hockey players proposed as his hand ran up your thighs “how do you know that it is what I want?” You smiled finding your place on his thigh.

He rubbed his thumb over your side as he cooed “something about the way you moaned last night with my head between your thighs tells me you want it again.” Adam watched as you placed your hands on either side of his face letting him guide your hips against him “Gav is gonna kill you.” Your reminder made him laugh as your lips hovered over his “and I think that you are totally worth it.” His confession had your legs clamping down around his thigh as you turned red “what do you say about a date when you’re back?” Adam’s forwardness was not something that you were used to after sleeping with a guy.

“I’d say that it sounds great.”

#Adam Fantilli smut #Adam Fantilli imagines #hockey smut #nhl smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #oneshots #imagines #amber writes fics

[sunsetreid]

christmas gift [ s. reid ]

— part two !

part of the ‘ back to school night ‘ series

find part one here !

pairing : teacher!Spencer Reid x single mom!reader

summary / prompt : three months after she begins to see him, (Y/N) wants to tell her daughter about her and Spencer’s relationship … but Spencer isn’t sure that he’s ready to tell Cassia

requested : kinda

genre : smut, fluff, and angst (the trifecta !)

warnings : age gap (8 years), mentions of body and self esteem issues, language throughout, angst (with an eventual happy ending), explicit sexual content, oral (m receiving), p in v protected sex, pet names during sex

【 18+ CONTENT BELOW (minors dni !) 】

Sneaking around is hard enough, but sneaking around with an 8-year-old child in the house is a whole other level. Especially for three months.

(Y/N) hates feeling like she’s lying to her daughter and that she has been since early September.

There are two days until Christmas. It’s been three and a half months of sneaking around and coming up with lies about why she has to stay at her dad’s for a few extra hours after school.

Cassia is young and loves her dad enough to not ask questions or be suspicious of her mother’s behavior. (Y/N) is at least grateful for that.

(Y/N) and her daughter are in the car on the way to Cassia's father's house on Christmas Eve Eve. According to their custody agreement, Cassia is to spend the night of the 23rd into the 24th with her father while spending the 24th into the 25th. Her father is always welcome to join them to open presents with their daughter on Christmas.

"Mom," Cassia says from the backseat. "What do you do when you drop me off at Daddy's?"

She blinks and looks in the rearview mirror at her daughter. "I stay up really late and have a couple of adult drinks," she replies. It's not a complete lie. Sometimes she has a guest over ... in her bed.

"Daddy lets me stay up late," Cassia says.

"I know he does," (Y/N) replies when she pulls up and parks out front of her ex's house. She turns in her seat to look at Cassia. "I've told him not to multiple times but he never listens to me. Anyway, we're here. Grab your backpack."

An excited Cassia grabs her backpack while her mother helps her out of the car. She runs up to the door and knocks on it. (Y/N) is right behind her as her father opens the door.

Cassia's father leans down and picks her up. "Back again, Munchkin?"

"Mom is going to stay up late and have adult drinks," Cassia tells her father. "She's so boring."

"Ouch," (Y/N) laughs before snatching her back from her father. "I'll be back for you tomorrow, squirt. Now go play. I have to talk to your father."

She runs up the stairs. Cassia's father, Mateo, leans against the doorframe. "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

(Y/N) shakes her head. "I just wanted to know how you told Cassia that you were dating someone," she replies. "Because I have no idea how to do that, especially because it's someone she knows."

Mateo says, "I gave her ice cream and told her about Jenna when she was at her happiest. She seemed happy, but she didn't meet Jenna for a few more weeks. She would ask me so many times a day when she would get to meet her so I eventually caved in. If she knows the guy you're dating then she shouldn't have much of an issue."

"So give her ice cream and tell her about my boyfriend," (Y/N) repeats. "Sounds good. Thanks. I'll be back around one tomorrow to come get her."

When she turns around to leave, Mateo says, "Hey, I don't get to know about your new boyfriend? I told you about Jenna when we started telling people about our relationship."

(Y/N)'s cheeks heat up. She still isn't used to calling Spencer her boyfriend. That title is only about six weeks old, but they've casually been seeing each other since back-to-school night.

“It’s still kind of new,” she admits. “I don’t think we’re ready to tell people yet, except maybe Cassia. I have to talk with him when I see him later.”

Mateo wiggles his eyebrows. “Later,” he teases. “Have fun later.”

“Shut up,” she playfully snaps. “I have to go get his gift so if you’ll excuse me.”

He lets her go this time. (Y/N) walks to her car and starts it up when she’s inside.

It’s a half-hour drive back to her apartment from Mateo’s house that he and his now fiancé share. She’s quick to get inside and get Spencer’s Christmas gift.

The gift isn’t exactly something that Spencer can unwrap, so she throws on a trench coat on top of the lingerie set that she bought so Spencer can “unwrap” her.

The set is red and lacy since it is Christmas. The bra is pretty much see-through and hides nothing. The panties are the same way. She’s practically naked.

She curls her hair, puts on some red lipstick to match the set, and then gets back in her car to head to Spencer’s.

Her hands are shaking as she drives the ten minutes to Spencer’s apartment. She’s never done anything like this for anyone, not even Mateo. They were together for years and she never put on lingerie to surprise him.

Needless to say, (Y/N) is extremely nervous. She has no idea how Spencer is going to react to his “gift”.

(Y/N) sits outside of Spencer’s apartment building for a few minutes when she pulls into the spot next to his car. She has completely lost the confidence she had when she bought the set a few weeks ago. She even contemplates going home to change really quickly and grabbing the actual gift that she was going to give to him after Christmas the next time she saw him.

Her plans to flee and change are quickly shut down when Spencer texts her.

‘ Almost here ? I’m ready for my present :) ‘

‘ just pulled up. give me a second. patience, dr reid ‘

‘ Finishing up some grading so just come in ‘

‘ got it. see you in a few seconds ‘

With a sigh, (Y/N) gets out of the car. Her heels click on the pavement as she walks into the building. She gets on the elevator because Spencer just has to live on the top floor, and she is not walking up six flights of steps in heels. That sounds like torture to her feet.

In the elevator, she sees herself in the mirror which is the wall of the elevator. Her hair still looks nice. Her lips are a rosey red color. Her eyes are bright and she is glowing.

She looks good. Who cares what a boy thinks?

Her confidence rebuilds itself just as the elevator dings and the doors open.

After a short walk down the hallway, (Y/N) knocks as she opens the door to Spencer’s apartment. “Spence? Where are you?” she calls as she sticks her head into the apartment.

“Office,” a faint voice calls from somewhere. “Be right there.”

As she closes the door behind her, a slightly disheveled Spencer Reid appears out of the hallway that leads to two bedrooms, a bathroom, and an office. He smiles when his eyes meet (Y/N)’s.

“Hi, my love,” (Y/N) greets him. Spencer leans down and presses a chaste kiss to her lips. “How is grading going?”

“Well, I’m grading spelling tests in cursive so it’s only a little frustrating since the kids are still learning how to write in cursive,” Spencer tells her. “Cassia’s writing is beautiful, by the way. Wonder where she gets that from.”

She smiles and wraps her arms around Spencer’s neck. “I taught her well,” she replies.

Spencer brings one of his hands up and traces her jaw with the back of his pointer finger. “A child’s first teacher is their mother,” he softly says. “No wonder she is insanely smart.”

“Stop trying to flatter me,” (Y/N) laughs. “You already know how much I like you. You don’t need to flatter me anymore. Not that you did much of that to begin with.”

He laughs in reply. “Give me ten minutes to finish up with grading then I am all yours,” Spencer tells her as he presses another quick kiss to her lips.

“Go be a teacher, Doctor Reid,” she replies. “I’ll be right here while you finish up.” There’s a hint of mischief in her voice and a smug smirk on her face. Spencer notices but he doesn’t ask any questions. He just raises his eyebrows at her.

Without another word, Spencer turns on his heels and heads back down to his office. She doesn’t hear a door shut, which she knows he likes to do when he wants to be left alone in his office.

She gives it five minutes before she puts her plan in motion and slowly makes her way down to the office. She walks very slowly and tries not to make any noise.

(Y/N) pushes the door open slightly and pops her head in to see her boyfriend hard at work. He has on his cute little glasses and looks concentrated on the paper on his desk. His head rests in one hand.

It would be a lie if she said that a focused Spencer is very hot. Especially when he goes into what she calls “teacher mode”, like he’s in right now.

He writes a letter on the paper that is in front of him before he puts it to the side. Spencer glances up to see (Y/N) standing at the door. He takes a second look.

“Sorry,” she says. “Couldn’t resist coming down and watching you work for a few minutes.”

Spencer laughs and shakes his head. "You would find a way to come watch me work," he replies as he leans back in his chair. He puts his glasses down on his desk. "I just finished though. Come here."

She smiles and walks further into the room. "I like watching you work, Spence," (Y/N) tells him as she leans against the desk with her legs between his knees. "You look so focused and cute. I can't help it."

"You know," Spencer slowly says. "I've noticed you haven't taken off that jacket yet when you usually get comfortable within seconds of walking in here."

(Y/N) sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. "Maybe your present is under the jacket," she tells him. Spencer raises his eyebrows. "Why don't you find out?"

He stands up, his legs between (Y/N)'s knees. She leans back on her hands on his desk so he can easily untie the tie that's keeping the jacket closed.

Her entire body shakes as Spencer undoes the tie around her waist. The jacket falls open and Spencer's eyes widen as he gets a look at what's underneath the jacket. "Fuck, (Y/N)," he mumbles under his breath. "You're going to kill me."

"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" she says as she goes to close the jacket again.

Spencer shakes his head and almost shouts, "No, no, no!" He pushes the jacket off of (Y/N)'s shoulders until it pools around her wrists on the desk. She smiles when his hands slide to her waist and rest on the bare skin above the waistband of the panties. His thumb plays with the waistband itself. "I like it. Actually, I love it."

She smiles and feels her cheeks heat up. "Glad you like it," she says. "Merry Christmas."

"I like my Christmas present," he mumbles. (Y/N) has noticed that his eyes haven't left her body. "My pretty girl."

Her nickname that Spencer only uses when he wants sex or is turned on causes her cheeks to overheat.

She doesn't know how but she pulls her hands out of the sleeves of the jacket to reach out and cup Spencer's jaw. His warm eyes meet hers, and she sees a darkness in them. The same darkness he has when he craves her. (Y/N)'s hands slide down his neck and chest. Her fingers work at untying the tie around his neck.

"I don't understand why you always wear a full suit and tie," she tells him. "What have you done today that made you put this on."

"Faculty meeting at the school this morning," he replies as she gets the tie undone. "You've gotten better at untying ties, baby."

Using the tie, (Y/N) pulls Spencer close to her. He smiles. "I have a really good teacher," she teases.

As soon as the last word passes her lips, Spencer closes the space between them. His lips attack hers and he bites her lower lip. (Y/N) hums and uses her heels to pull Spencer even closer to her.

His hands come up and his fingers find a home in her curls. His fingers curl in her locks, not letting her go very far.

The tie drops to the floor, the jacket follows shortly after. (Y/N) begins to work on unbuttoning the shirt he's wearing. She untucks the shirt and shoves it off his shoulders to the floor.

She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his pants and turns them around so Spencer is the one against the desk. She kisses her way to his neck and mumbles, "That was only part one of your gift." She undoes the belt around his waist. The metal clangs together as she undoes it. Quickly, she pushes his pants down. "This is part two."

Before Spencer can reply, (Y/N) slides down to her knees in front of him. "Oh, fuck me," Spencer breathes out.

"That's going to be your job," she teases as she takes his semi into her hand. It doesn't take very long for the semi to get fully hard after she begins to stroke him. "Right now, I want you to fuck my mouth."

Spencer gnaws on his bottom lip as (Y/N) wraps hers around his dick. Her tongue swirls around the tip before she takes him in her mouth. She looks up at him with her eyes and finds that his head is thrown back. His lips are red and kiss-bruised from the rough kisses they shared earlier.

(Y/N) hollows out her cheeks and Spencer groans. “Oh my God,” he pants. He slowly begins to thrust his hips into her mouth. She stops moving her head and lets Spencer completely take over.

She feels Spencer grab a fistful of her curls. When he pulls slightly, (Y/N) lets out a soft groan around him. He looks down at her and she notices his eyes darken.

“You look so pretty like this, baby,” Spencer tells her. “You’re so pretty on your knees for me.” His hoarse voice goes straight down to her already soaked core.

When (Y/N) looks up at Spencer, she isn’t ready for the sight above her.

His hair has fallen into his face as he looks down at her and it moves very slightly as he rolls his hips. He tries to push it out of his face but it falls right back into place. His lips are still swollen. He looks at her like he is addicted to her.

He might be. She definitely is.

By her hair, Spencer pulls her off of his leaking dick. “As much as I want to come in that pretty mouth of yours,” he begins to say as he helps (Y/N) up to her feet. He pulls her against him and continues to talk in her ear. “I’d rather get you naked in my bed and fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

His words make her shiver with excitement and anticipation.

Spencer kicks his pants completely off before he grabs her hand and leads her out of the room. They completely abandon their clothes in the office as they walk down the hallway.

As soon as they pass the threshold into Spencer’s bedroom, his lips are on hers. His hands are back on her jaw and she’s reaching behind her to unclasp the bra. It falls to the floor before Spencer’s knees hit the bed and he sits on the mattress.

The kiss breaks when Spencer hits the mattress. He looks up at (Y/N) with eyes that have something different than lust in them. She doesn’t recognize the feeling in them.

She slides off the soaked panties before crawling onto his lap. She straddles his thighs and Spencer attaches himself to her neck. He kisses her neck and collarbone while she runs her fingers through his locks.

Honestly, her fingers are in Spencer’s hair so much, she’d be upset if he cut his hair. It gives her something to grab on to when he rails into her.

Spencer cups one of her breasts and flicks her nipple with his tongue. She shivers under his touch and rolls her hips against his. “Baby,” she breathes out. “What happened to wanting to fuck me?”

“In a second,” he mumbles against her skin. “Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

She can’t help but smile at the comment.

(Y/N) has told Spencer about all of the body image and self esteem issues that she’s had over the years since she had a baby. She told him about how she hates how much her weight fluctuates since she had Cassia and about how she’s hated how her body has looked since.

Now he makes it his mission to remind her how beautiful she is every time they fall into bed together or when they take a bath together. Every time he sees her naked, he tells her how beautiful she is. He always makes it a point to kiss all of the stretch marks across her stomach because she is always so insecure about them.

Spencer rolls them over and (Y/N) scoots closer to the pillows. He goes into his bedside table to retrieve a tiny package. She watches him rip the package open with his teeth and roll its contents onto himself.

Almost like he could hear what she was thinking about two seconds ago, Spencer leans down and presses soft kisses across her belly. She giggles and runs her fingers through his hair.

The kisses trail up her belly and between her breasts until he’s hovering on top of her. (Y/N)’s legs fall open so he can get comfortable between them. He lines himself up with her and meets her eyes. He doesn’t dare move. He hasn’t asked yet.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N),” he whispers. “So fucking beautiful. You know that?”

“I know,” she replies, voice soft. She reaches up and runs her thumb over his kiss-bruised lips. Spencer kisses the pad of her thumb. “You’re pretty too.”

Spencer laughs and leans down to kiss (Y/N) so softly that her heart flutters in her chest. It happens every time he kisses her like this.

She runs her thumbs over his cheekbones and pulls back from the kiss. He looks between her eyes and asks, “Can I?”

“Absolutely.”

He smiles and she looks down to watch him push into her. The sudden pressure causes her to gasp and close her eyes. It’s a familiar and welcomed pressure as he fills her.

“Spence,” she breathes out. “For the love of God. Move.”

A soft laugh comes from above her before he begins to slowly move his hips into her. A soft hum comes from (Y/N) as his movements speed up and he thrusts deeper into her.

The bed begins to freak beneath them as Spencer moves faster. The sounds coming from (Y/N) grow louder the deeper he moves into her. She bucks her hips up at the same time Spencer moves into her. She matches his speed.

Spencer’s hand holds (Y/N)’s waist, helping her. He leans down and presses his forehead to hers. The tips of their noses touch every time Spencer thrusts into her.

A knot forms at the bottom of her stomach. It threatens to come undone every time Spencer moves.

She opens her eyes and looks at Spencer above her. (Y/N) feels the world around her freeze and her heart skips a beat in her chest.

It’s cliché and she knows that, but it truly does feel like they are the only two people in the world at this very moment. All she can think about is Spencer and how she is falling in love with him a little more every second they spend together.

Spencer’s fingers on her clit end up bringing her back to reality. “Fuck,” she moans. “Fuck, Spencer.” She bites back louder moans.

“Don’t do that, baby,” Spencer breathes out. He pulls her bottom lip out of her mouth. “I want to hear you, pretty girl. I want to hear everything that comes out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

His words cause the knot in her stomach to tighten.

“Spencer,” she whines. “Please make me come. I’m so close. Please.” Her pleas sound like she’s begging him.

It sounds almost like a challenge, and that’s how he takes it.

He pulls almost completely out of her before he slams back into her. It only takes a few times before the knot comes undone and (Y/N) clenches then comes around Spencer’s dick. She cries out his name and sees stars. Her entire body goes limp as she hits her high.

Her climax hit her so hard that she loses touch with reality. She doesn’t feel Spencer come into the condom, pull out of her, or notice when he goes into the bathroom.

When she comes to, she’s still panting and Spencer is walking back into the bedroom. “Welcome back,” he says when he sees that she has come back to reality. “Thought I might’ve killed you for a second there.”

“Imagine that on my tombstone,” she replies. “Death by Spencer Reid’s dick.”

Spencer wipes away the layer of sweat that has covered her body and says, “It at least has to say ‘Dr. Spencer Reid.”

She lets out a breathy laugh and looks over at Spencer as he falls onto the bed beside her, the cloth discarded somewhere on the floor. They’ve both found their way under the blankets. She rolls over to she’s facing her boyfriend.

(Y/N) is quick to notice the little box in his hand. She raises her eyebrows at him. “I know we said that we were going to give gifts after Christmas but I didn’t want to wait any longer before I gave you this,” he tells her.

“What did you get me?”

She takes the box that’s being offered to her. She pulls it open and gasps at its contents.

Inside the box is a little silver necklace with an ‘S’ on the chain.

“Something to wear when you miss me,” he tells her as he brushes away a strand of hair that has fallen into her face. “Or when we don’t get to see each other for a few days.”

“It’s so pretty,” she replies as she pulls it out of the box. “Help me put it on?”

He nods and (Y/N) hands him the necklace. She sits up with the covers under her arms and gathers her hair into a ponytail so it’s easier for Spencer to get it around her neck.

She looks down and smiles as soon as it’s secured. She lightly touches the ‘S’ and lets her hair drop. Spencer pushes it to the side and presses a soft kiss to her shoulder.

“Like it?” he mumbles against her skin.

“Love it.” She turns and faces him. “Thank you.”

Spencer mirrors her smile and she leans down. She presses a soft kiss to Spencer’s lips before settling back down in his arms.

As she falls asleep, she makes note of two things she wants to talk to him about in the morning.

She wants to tell him that she wants to tell Cassia about them … and that she’s in love with him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

(Y/N) isn’t sure what wakes her up the next morning. It could be the sun that’s shining in through the window. It could be the smell of bacon. She doesn’t know.

She rolls out of bed and grabs one of Spencer’s shirts as well as a pair of his boxers. Tying her hair up into a messy bun on top of her head, she leaves the bedroom and follows the smell of cooking bacon.

In the kitchen is Spencer Reid. He has on plaid pajama pants and a loose fitting t-shirt. He whistles to himself as he cooks breakfast. (Y/N) sees the plate of pancakes beside him on the counter. The keurig is also making some coffee.

“Good morning,” (Y/N) says, her voice still slurred with sleep.

Spencer turns around and smiles. “You were supposed to be in bed,” he tells her as she walks up to him. “This was supposed to be breakfast in bed.”

She gets on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I smelled bacon and I needed to come investigate,” she replies. “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven because of how good you look in my clothes right now,” he says. “Glad to know you still like bacon.”

“Duh.”

(Y/N) sits at the kitchen island and looks at her phone.

Mateo sent her a picture of himself and Cassia in a matching pajama set. A second message sits under it that says ‘ hope you’re wearing more protection than we did ‘.

She shakes her head and tucks her phone away when Spencer brings over breakfast.

“This looks really good,” (Y/N) says as she helps herself to the pancakes and bacon. Spencer sits a cup of coffee down in front of her. “You’re my hero.”

“I know that coffee is really the only way to your heart.” He kisses the top of her head before sitting beside her.

Breakfast is quiet. She enjoys Spencer’s presence as she eats the perfectly cooked bacon and fluffy pancakes that he made for them.

The entire time, she’s nervous. She’s nervous about bringing up telling Cassia and she’s definitely nervous about telling him that she loves him. Hopefully it doesn’t show how nervous she is.

Not only does Spencer make breakfast, but he does the dishes too. He goes back to humming to himself as he cleans.

Now seems like a good time to bring something up.

"So, I've been thinking about something," (Y/N) cautiously says. He turns his head and looks at her at the kitchen island. "I don't like the fact that I have been sneaking around my daughter, especially since she knows you and likes you. I wanted to what you think about maybe telling her about our relationship."

Spencer turns the water off and uses a hand towel to dry his hands. "I didn't know you wanted to tell her," he replies. "Last time we talked about it, you weren't too keen on being with me and now you want to tell Cassia about us. What's changed?"

She shrugs and looks down at the countertop. "I mean, I feel like I'm lying to her," (Y/N) tells Spencer. "Yesterday she asked me what I do after I drop her off at her father's house and I lied. I don't want to keep doing that to her, especially since I've told her how bad lying is since she could understand what lying was. I feel like a hypocrite."

He walks over to (Y/N) and she spins around in the chair so she's facing him. "I don't know," he sighs, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I don't want her to think of me as anything but her teacher right now. It's only been a couple of months since we started seeing each other. It's still kind of new and I'm enjoying this little bubble that we have created for ourselves. I'm not sure if I'm ready for that bubble to burst just yet."

"If you don't want to tell her then that's fine," (Y/N) assures him as she wraps her arms around his waist. "I just wanted to get your thoughts on it."

"I don't want to tell her then."

That was a little too quick. "Wow, okay," she replies as she drops her arms. "I didn't think you felt that strongly about not telling Cassie."

"It's not that I don't want to tell her," Spencer explains with a sigh. "I just don't know if I'm ready to be someone's father."

(Y/N) sits back in her seat. "You're not her father, Spencer," she tells him. "She has a father. You're her teacher right now. If anything, you'll be more of a father figure and best friend to her if we were to tell her. She isn't going to call you 'dad' if that's what your worried about."

Spencer runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. "I'm not sure if I want to just butt into someone's family, (Y/N)," he admits. "Telling your daughter would make this almost permanent and it'll be that I'm butting into your family."

Okay, ouch.

"You don't think this his permanent?" (Y/N) questions. "Do you think this is a fling or something? Is that the reason you really don't want to tell my daughter? Do you not see yourself as a permanent part of our lives? Trust me when I tell you this, Spencer Reid. Cassia adores you. All these facts that you tell her and all of the lessons that you do with her, she commits those to memory because she enjoys being around you. You've already become a permanent part of her life. Sorry to break that to you."

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"That sounds exactly like what you're saying," she interrupts. "I want this to be permanent, Spencer. It's why I want to tell Cassia. You've already become such an important part of my life and an important part of my daughter's life in different ways. She gets off the chair and sighs. "If you don't want this to be a permanent thing, just tell me. Don't drag me along because you drag my daughter along too."

When Spencer doesn't say anything, (Y/N) grabs her jacket from his office and pulls it around herself before she walks out into the cool, Christmas Eve air without telling him that she loves him.

She isn't sure that she should love him anymore.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

a/n - oops. sorry. this is what happens when i turn things into a series sometimes (remember y'all wanted this)

MASTERLIST

REQUEST GUIDELINES

PART ONE | PART THREE

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #fluff fic #smut fic #angst fic #fluff #smut #angst #sunsetreid series

[emilyprentissslutsstuff]

Home Run Part 2 – Emily Prentiss x Fem!BAU!Reader

Warnings: Smut, mommy kink, praise kink, mentions of alcohol

Set directly after Part 1, little bit shorter than the first one and the ending feels a little bit rushed but I wanted to get it written. Might eventually do a Part 3, leave any requests or prompts you have! Thank you for reading and enjoying!

18+MDNI

It puzzled you how quickly and easily Emily was able to shift from her sexually dominant side to… sitting down and eating dinner with her subordinates. You tried not to dwell on it too much, you couldn’t really, as the team scrutinized how you played during the game. Derek tried to play it off like you were a one hit wonder.

“Morgan, you shit head, it looks like you’re gonna eat your words again. Prentiss here said she was gonna be coming out to the games more so be prepared to be proved wrong,” you blew the paper of your straw at him.

He smiled sheepishly at you, “Fine, I’ll admit it. You swing a bat better than I do, but you’re just lucky the Bureau doesn’t have any other sports teams because I’d kick your ass.”

“I’m just glad he found someone else to play with, he’s not trying to make me go out there with him,” Reid sighed thankfully from beside you.

“Has the Doctor been holding out on me?” you asked jokingly as the team laughed at his remark. The group continued their celebrations, drinking and laughing as they ate. Everyone was too absorbed in the collective conversation to notice the subtle glances exchanged between you and your boss.

The dinner soon ended and everyone was about to part ways. Derek had asked you if you wanted him and Savannah to drive you back home, being he had picked you up before the game.

“Thanks, but no thanks Morgan. Prentiss offered to take me, and she’s nicer to me anyways,” you shoved him lightly, chuckling.

He threw his hands up defensively, “Suit yourself, All-Star. Don’t say I never did anything for ya.” He shook his head as he laughed, walking back towards his car.

“Damn, you’re good,” you heard from behind you, causing you to jump. You had almost forgotten Emily was standing right there, most definitely waiting to ruin the composure you were able to hold around the others. And probably enjoy it.

You turned on your heel, “What?” You were confused, something that was becoming frequent around the older woman. She pursed her lips, eyes studying you silently as you approached her. You tilted your head at her, waiting expectantly for her response.

“Let’s go,” she commanded, her eyes and head flicking towards her vehicle as she turned without another word. You stood stunned for a moment before following after her, watching the sway of her hips as you caught up to her.

“You’re bossy,” you grumbled moodily, even though you knew that was part of the reason you were so attracted to her. She knew it too by the cheeky smile that formed her features.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said condescendingly, stopping in her tracks, her voice sharp and careful as if it was a warning to you. “Don’t get mouthy now. You’ve behaved so well, why d’you want to start acting up? Hmm?” You could feel the effect of her words heating up your face and your core, which you tried to hide from her by averting your gaze.

She laughed at you, her hand moving to the small of your back as she guided you gently to her car. The ride was mostly quiet as you wrestled with the feelings in your mind, trying to sort through your thoughts. Before you knew it you were at Emily’s brownstone.

You knew you were in for it as the sound of the door closing seemed to echo throughout, followed by Emily practically pouncing on you while pushing you against the door. Her lips crashed against yours as she pulled your body closer to her, hands resting tenderly on your waist. It seemed her mouth and hands were on different wavelengths, an assault of hot kisses and quick nips as she trailed along your jaw and neck. But her hands moved leisurely, precisely as she snaked them up your shirt, brushing your skin almost hesitantly as if prepared to still at the drop of a hat.

Her knee nudged between your legs but did little to relieve your throbbing core. Your hands grasped roughly at the tight denim fabric of her jeans, unable to grip her ass the way you wanted to be able to. You groaned indecently at the way her mouth glided across your skin, teeth pulling and releasing, leaving her mark on your flesh.

“Emily,” you whined as your fingers fumbled with her zipper, your earlier embarrassment shifting into shameless desperation. Her hands lifted your jersey above your head, falling back to your torso and leading you to her bedroom while discarding the rest of your clothes along the way. You had managed to pull her shirt off but she remained in her bra and unbuttoned pants.

Only Emily Prentiss can look sexy taking off skin tight blue jeans you thought to yourself as you watched them peel off her figure. Your stomach tightened at the sight of her exposed body, admiring the curve of her hips as she pulled you towards her. She whispered something in your ear, her breath raising goosebumps across your skin as her words went unheard.

You pulled her fingers down to your thighs with a whimper, your implicit way of asking her to touch you. She, however, was not letting you off that easily, chuckling at you as she trailed her fingers slowly back up your abdomen. There was no doubt she was enjoying her ability to reduce you to futile whimpers and whines, and you knew from the almost arrogant smirk on her lips that she would prolong her teasing as long as she could.

A breathy mumble of, “Please,” fell from your lips as your head dropped to her shoulder, pressing soft open mouth kisses against her collarbone. Her arms wrapped tightly around you, her hands rubbing against your shoulder blades until they met in the middle of your back.

She laid you delicately on the bed, her soft touches greatly contrasting the haste of your tongue she had felt earlier that night. It made you feel a little guilty that you had rushed through pleasuring her, but the thought was quickly pushed from your mind as Emily parted your lips with her fingers. Instinctively, you drew them into your mouth, sucking on them gently until she pulled them out.

Her fingers slipped into with ease, although she didn’t need to lubricate them. You were pretty sure there was a wet spot forming underneath you from the second she had laid you down. A gasp escaped your lips as a smirk fell on hers as she felt how wet you were, vulgar sounds filling the air as she lazily pumped her fingers inside of you.

“Barely have to do anything and you’re this wet?” Emily asked proudly.

“Mmhmm,” you moaned, your eyes closed as you rolled your hips, pushing her digits deeper as her wrist thrust. You felt her mouth trail down your neck, latching onto your nipple. She stared up at you through half lidded eyes, blinking at you slowly as her tongue swirled around the bud.

You felt your chest flutter like her eyelashes, watching as she moved carefully down your body. Her fingers slowed to almost a stop as she sunk her teeth lightly into the skin of your hip. You were gasping and squirming with every movement as if no one had ever touched you before which only added to Emily’s amusement.

“Need you,” you mumbled, lifting your hips in attempt to persuade her stationary hand.

“I can see that,” she smiled against your skin.

“So mean, I didn’t tease you,” you were still squirming, your fingers running gently through her hair as you admired her. Despite your desperation, you appreciated her ability to stay patient, a quality of hers you always adored. It was certainly an ability you didn’t have and was working against your favor.

“You didn’t,” she mused. “You were very eager to please.”

Her fingers began thrusting into you, curling against your sweet spot as she lowered her mouth to your clit. The sudden stimulation caused your back to arch as her hand trailed up your stomach, reaching to cup your breast.

You clenched the duvet in your fist, your other hand resting gently in her hair as you breathed an elongated groan of, “Fuckk, Emily!”

Your gasps and moans filled the air, her tongue gradually getting faster as she circled your clit. Your head was thrown back, you couldn’t bring yourself to look down knowing you’d likely fall apart at the sight of her head between your legs. She gently rolled your nipple between her thumb and forefinger, pulling another groan from you.

“So needy for mommy, aren’t you?” she whispered breathily, her voice was soft and sweet as if she was still seducing you. You felt your heartbeat flutter in your chest at the sound of her voice, your face flushed red.

“Yes!” you cried out sharply, your hand flying to grasp hers resting on your chest as she intertwined your fingers.

You could feel your muscles tensing as your orgasm built up, your thighs twitching as her movements became more fervent. Her hand gripped yours tightly, almost affectionately, while the other plowed unrelentingly into you.

“Em-fuck, Emily, please, I’m so close,” you whimpered, feeling your nails dig into her skin slightly and clutching her hair a little harder than you intended. She sucked the sensitive bud of your clit between her lips, eliciting another moan of pleasure.

“Look at me.”

Your chin dropped to your chest, your eyes meeting wide brown orbs staring up at you expectantly, just waiting to watch you unravel. And that was all it took to push you over the edge, a jolt exploding through your body as your muscles spasmed around her.

A string of half coherent expletives and pleas along with several gasps and moans tumbled from your lips. Your hips began grinding against her mindlessly, chest heaving dramatically with erratic breaths as your orgasm rippled throughout you entirely.

Her eyes never left yours as you struggled between looking at her and allowing your eyes and head to roll back. Her tight clasp on your hand kept you grounded in reality as you rode out the high of your climax, gradually releasing her hair as your muscles began to relax and she slowed her fingers and tongue.

She crawled up your body, sucking your wetness from her fingers as you silently caught your breath. Your eyes were shut tightly as you had already began planning your exit strategy, trying to figure out how to push down the awkwardness you were already beginning to feel.

It was as if Emily could read your racing thoughts, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. She tilted your head toward her by your chin, prompting you to open your eyes. The soft look on her face washed away the feelings of doubt that were quickly clouding your mind, a small smile beginning to tug the corners of your mouth.

She pressed her lips lightly along your jaw and the curve of your neck, mutters of praise and admiration sealed against your skin. Your hand found the back of her neck, your smile growing as her mouth trailed to your lips. She fell beside you, wrapping your body around hers and pressing your head against her chest.

You relaxed against her, a soft sigh escaping your lips as her finger traced light circles along your back. Your hands wandered innocently over different parts of her skin, familiarizing yourself with her body. The two of you laid like that for a while, no words needed, until Emily stirred. Untangling herself from you, she placed a kiss on your shoulder before standing up.

You held your breath, waiting for her to tell you to leave but to your surprise, she didn’t. “I’ll run a bath for you, you should stay with me tonight. Unless we get called in on a case, we won’t have to go into work,” she suggested as she rounded the bed.

She disappeared without another word, leaving you to mull over what she had said. You didn’t want to let her seemingly fond behavior to indulge the feelings you had for her. You shook the thoughts from your head, picking up the book that sat neatly on her bedside table to focus on something else.

“Late night reading?” Emily asked, emerging from the bathroom in a silky dark blue robe. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable, you shifted nervously as you placed the book back to its original place.

“Didn’t take you for a mystery reader, figured you’d get enough whodunnit at work.”

She laughed heartily, “I like being able to solve it half way through, I read twice as many books that way.”

“Oh, Emily Prentiss, the slacker,” you chuckled.

“So that’s what you’d call what I just did? Slacking?” she grabs your hips roughly, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

“Will that make you do it again?”

“No, you’ll have to say please if that’s what you want honey,” she tells you, laughing as she let go of you and you sat up with a pout.

“Oh, you are such a tease, Prentiss.”

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction

[tarjapearce]

Chapter 6: But Chaos Clings Within

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mild depictions of violence, emotional distress, mentions of mental illness, mentions of meds during pregnancies, graphic depictions of panic attacks, comfort towards the end, a squeeze of character background. Sexual language, Character study. No Proofread.

Summary: Just when things couldn't go worst, Miguel proves you wrong.

Previous

A/N: I do not condone toxic relationships or behaviors, much less encourage them. English is not my main so excuse any typos c:

Sorry for the wait, finally got the time to get this out :'). Internship is eating my soul. Feedback much appreciated ❤️. Enjoy!

Miguel O'Hara. Lab technician from the research department. Successful scientist, the best of his generation, the million dollar brain, as Sully had called him once, married to science, hard working man-

His calloused pads pinched the bridge of his nose.

And a cheater.

A deep exhale heaved through his already rigid nose, muscles hardening from the tension that always held an obsessed grip on his body. Like a ghost, permanent, silent and always manifesting in the least proper moments.

A liar,

He pulled the keys out from the slot, and grabbed in a single hand the stacked and unused boxes on the passenger's seat. Hoarding wasn't in his traits, as he'd rather to invest in things that nurtured his self or shut Dana up, like the ring she tossed on his chest after the elephant popped in the parking lot.

Hollow-hearted lover

This would be his last time entering the place that had been his shared home for the past four and a half years. His apartment judged him with it's silence, glaring his way from every ivory and smooth wall he walked by. Sneering at his life choices with minor inconveniences, that only added to his piled up and ever heavy stress load.

He walked towards the elevator, knowing by heart the buttons he needed to press. Moving towards the turns and angles he needed, to reach his soon long gone home.

Of course lights would be on, the new owner was already making some impromptu renovations in the trampled and spat on love nest. His keys, another thing he'd have to surrender later, were pushed inside the doorknob, to then open past the gates he always made sure to double lock before sleeping.

Dana's voice filled in the living room, followed by another he knew too well by the many times she'd welcomed him at Christmas gatherings. Blanca. Her older sister.

And a reluctant daddy.

The women stopped their talk as Miguel peeked over the door, hulking frame swallowing the narrow hall connecting to the jasmine smelling living room. There was no effusive greeting this time. No welcome home hugs, nothing but silence and an bungled up smile his way from Blanca.

The woman knew better than anyone that neither Miguel or Dana were perfect. Innocently mistaking the dreadful silence and tension between as another couple quarrel.

Does she knows?

Her demureness didn't give any hints that she actually did. And it was enough for him. He wasn't in his nines to hear another hysteric fit of how much of a coward he was, or how the consequences would be out there to get him sooner or later.

Another Tyler Stone.

"Gotta go"

She hugged Dana, and then him.

"Hope everything gets better soon." She'd mumbled through whispers.

The eldest of the D'Angelo siblings spoke with a sympathetic smile before leaving for the night. Almost running in her way out to avoid being used, as usual, as a mediator.

The door clicked quietly, and it was Dana's turn to heave a tired and languid breath, yet she didn't speak. Instead, she went over the kitchen to prepare some tea.

It was more than enough cue for him to mind his business and pack away the last bits of his belongings.

Some work tools, books, diplomas and the last bits of his clothes. To his surprise, they were neatly arranged and folded in a bag.

Eyes darted towards the kitchen where Dana was. Unbothered, focused on selecting the perfect mug for her comfort drink, ignoring his existence.

It didn't feel too different when they had a fight. The aftermaths were either them lying naked, breathless and laughing like loons or silence. It all depended on how bad the fight was and who displayed the ultimate final punch.

Miguel was usually the winner, leaving Dana in the corner of shame, nursing her defeat. But this time, she had won, a flawless and clean victory.

He hated it.

Cause it didn't matter how much he tried to come up with a comeback, there wasn't any. Her beating was too powerful to even fight back, leaving him on the floor, stunned but not wounded.

The boxes were filled in matter of minutes. The more he took away the more he realized his absence wasn't even acknowledged.

Dana had already filled in those spaces, and his things being removed only added a little mess in the neatly organized place if anything.

He wasn't missed.

In fact, the nattily folded clothes only reinforced his suspicion of Dana having her subtle way of hurrying his process, to get out of her home, her life and heart.

He took turns to fill in the void space of his car, accommodating the boxes and containers in a way to not damage anything fragile. One last box was everything that remained, reducing the countdown to mere minutes. He returned at the apartment to get his books.

Hefty pages easily carried in the cardboard recipient. As he lifted it like nothing, one of his thighs knocked over a golden, minimalistic and borderline abstract statuette next to the coffee table.

Dana's rushing steps made his scowl to deepen at the sudden accident.

"Goddammit, Miguel!"

It was her favorite. A tall figure cradling a small bundle. His best interpretation was a mother and his baby she had gotten in a gentrified decor shop, something that started after they talked about kids in the long run. She had gotten the supposed sacred and good luck figurine merely out of superstition.

And now it laid broken, in tiny shards on the floor, impossible to be glued back.

Dana brought the broom and the garbage collector to sweep off the pieces.

Miguel bent to pick up the bigger shards but Dana's stern voice stopped him

"Just leave it."  She squeezed between him and the coffee table to pick up the pieces with such care it felt like picking herself up, "You've done enough." That's what she had been doing these past days.

Try and glue back all the pieces Miguel made sure to wham away with a sledgehammer.

"Dana"

Miguel's voice felt like a terse loofa on her tender skin, scrubbing raw and flushed red.

Blue gaze pinned him on the spot, a silent What from her. Sadly, they knew each other too well to ignore the subtle signs in the body language. Miguel crouched next to her, taking the rickety broom and plastic collector from her hands.

"Let me."

"Just leave, Miguel."

It was more a plead than anything. But stubborn was the main trait engraved into his brain ever since he was born.

"Dana, mi vida, look-"

"Miguel."

Her tone final. His hands rose up, defense in them.

"I'm sorry, ok?"

A shameless scoff escaped her pouty lips, while she retrieved the tools from his hands.

"The only thing you're sorry about is that you got caught, Miguel."

"I tried to correct-"

Dana took a sharp inhale before speaking, calmly. "You don't get it, do you?"

"I didn't think it would come to this, really. The condom-"

"Ugh! Stop. Stop!"

Dana had to take her distance from him, but he tried to reach out. A futile attempt as his ex fiancé slapped almost too gently his meaty palm. Away from her, disgusted and irked.

"You think I wanna hear how you fucked the receptionist? You should learn a thing or two from her-"

There it was. The bickering he loved, and the perfect chance to win her back. He didn't know if delusion hung high his brain today, but he was somehow convinced that Dana would tell him to stay. To fix everything. Delusion at it's finest.

"She was a slip-"

"And that slip and mistake ended up being pregnant and now she's trying to correct your fuck ups."

His brow quirked, suspicion rising at her sudden mellow talk.

"Didn't know you were her personal friend." His arms crossed while a hubristic smile stretched on his face. Seizing her with derision," Drank tea with her too?"

He was sure his eyes rolled so hard it hurt.

"My goodness. And to think I was about to marry you..."

Miguel snorted, cynic as usual "Stop acting surprised. Don't be a hypocrite you know how-."

"Hypocrite?! It's called empathy, jackass. Maybe you should learn it. While you're making fun of her and acting like we can go back to normal, she's desperate to find a solution to a problem you refuse to address or even acknowledge."

"For all I know, she could be lying and blame it on me," he tried to reason. But to no avail.

"You can't be serious right now. How messed up you must be to believe such thing when moments ago you admitted something happened?!"

Miguel's hands went on his hips, grounding himself to avoid invading her personal bubble more than he already was.

Another cloyed sigh from the brunette, "Unlike you, at least she's adult enough to face her problems and give the child for adoption."

A cold shudder came down his spine. Was his hearing right?

"Disculpa, qué?" He had to blink the frown and scowl that immediately took his countenance a hostage, but to no avail. It was another blow Dana gave him on the floor. Merciless as she was, she'd give him no truce.

"Adoption. A-D-O-P-T-"

"Fucking funny. The fuck you mean adoption?"

"I'm not here to amuse you."

And in truth he was far from being entertained. His brain had gone into an flout, ignoring his rationale, doused in glacial water that froze all attempt into logic thinking. Body buzzed with something ghastly, unable to be properly processed as it remained as a knot in his throat.

No. You couldn't.

"She can't be that stupid-"

"She's not stupid. She's assuming the consequences. As you should be!"

His hands no longer remained on him, too perturbed to stay still. They rubbed a bit too hard on his face, a twitch popped in his eye.

"No, she's... she's being fucking stupid. I.. I gave her-"

"A check to get rid of if. Yeah, I know." Dana crossed her arms while seizing his newly disturbed state. Steely nerves were something used to describe him, but this insecure and fearful man before her was everything but composed.

"She can't..." The ramble with himself continued, not really caring if Dana joined or not.

But you were keeping the child. Against his wishes.

How dared you?

His mind tried so hard that a painful pulsation echoed inside his skull. Hurting itself in the process of trying to understand why on earth would you keep a baby while having all the stakes at odds.

"She will. That's not up to you to decide."

"No, no, you don't understand, Dana. She can't have-"

"Well, too bad cause she's keepin-"

In a flurry of anger, his hands slapped the broom away from her grip, with such force she yelped, startled "Cállate!"

He roared and Dana recoiled, wide eyes in terror. It didn't matter how many times he clawed at his scalp, in an hopeless attempt to smear away the news. He heaved, realizing too late his mistake.

"I'm-"

"You need to leave."

His ex's voice was too calm, too kind, despite his aggression. It no longer held that bickering and holding a grudge like usual. It was devoid of all emotion, denying him the satisfaction of baiting and engaging into his game.

But he certainly wasn't there for a laugh anymore. Reality was always bitter and disappointing.

Heart jerked, menacing to splinter and rive at any second, fury flowed through his bloodstream, like a drug. Feeding his brain cortex with a much unrequited high of cortisol.

How could you? He gave you the money, yet you decided to do him dirty. Were you taking revenge? Without a doubt, and now you'd bring everything he had worked on so hard for, down and away.

In a place of a much higher shelf he, even with his height, could not reach. Like a timeout for his grown ass self.

But he wouldn't allow you. He refused to have his own story play on repeat once again.

He was set into finish this once and for all.

His anxiety had taken his nerves for an unwilling ride. Not only he had to wait for an extra hour for you to clock out, but he also had to face you once more.

Miguel was convinced that you had influenced his mind in such a way he was starting to believe you were his bad luck charm.

You were there in his revenge. You were there when Dana dumped him. He saw your sweet and fury-inducing face when the higher and richer bunch dejected his proposal in a subtle way it had given him hope. And somehow you still managed to get into Dana's head and root for you, when the woman usually remained on a neutral line or rather to not get involved at all, even if it somehow affected her personally.

You had tipped the balance completely on your favor. And now, the rotten cherry of his Frankenstein of cake, was knowing you were to take the pregnancy to a full term, when he had specifically told you to get rid of it.

His million dollar brain couldn't come up with a logical and quantifiable explanation as to why.

Why? Why? Why? So. many why's and little responses.

She wants to screw me over.

A malicious frown came to his lip, twitching ever slightly, temper already boiling underneath.

He wouldn't let you. Not when his career was taking a fly, the rejection was a little mishap, but nothing that he couldn't fix in a future.

He left for his car, ten minutes before the clock ticked at five pm. Your leaving hour. Silent and steadfast steps advanced towards the parking lot. Where everything had started. Where bad luck and unfortunate decisions from the universe begun to hunt him down.

Where his life took such a radical change for the worst. His nose flared upon the realization.

You brought the worst out of him.

Made him act out of his usual composed and calculating self. Forced him to conduct out of his pattern, taking impromptu choices wasn't who he was.

Lashing out when he'd keep his mouth shut. Behaving recklessly when he'd analyze the situation first, deeming it worthy to get involved or not. Saying things out of place when he knew he needed to remain shut, reaching to the points of threatening and mastering the arts of deceiving.

And now, you were forcing a role he didn't want, yet knew he had self imposed it. He knew the condom broke, he knew that he needed to change it.

But damned be his lust and hormones fluctuation, your deliciously sweet scent that somehow was engraved into his memory, the snug and tight cunt that had made his mind a puddle. And your fucking righteousness to accept your consequences that exposed him and his lies.

And once again, a reluctant daddy.

You've turned his life upside down. Everything he had carefully and methodically crafted, was now on the floor, ruined. Tarnished beyond repair. You were chaos.

He had given you the resources to end the problem, yet you spat on his face. Repaid him with aversion. And he was now set in finding out the answers he needed.

He saw your head peeking out from the elevator, going to your little and toy looking car. Pretty doll playing with danger.

Keys dangled, along a daisy shaped keychain in your hands, swaying back and forth at the rhythm of your steps.

The clinking drowned the heavy echoes of his leather covered feet, noticing him a little too late as he slammed your car's door shut, prowling over before you could enter.

"W-What the fuck?!"

Breath hitched, eyes widened in alarm as your skin crawled when meeting his accusing and dern gaze. Brain flaring with the dangers alarm, panic simmering on the slow burner.

You nearly stumbled while backing up as he stalked you.

"What's wrong with you?!" Your eyes closed as he yelled. Angry breath fanned on your shaky self.

For a second it wasn't Miguel that yelled, but Mother.

Body reacting with muscle memory by raising your arms up, trying to create more space between you both. Miguel was burning in wrath and it scorched you.

"I fucking gave you the chance to handle this, and you decide to keep it?!"

Hulking frame loomed over, reducing your existence even further as he slammed his closed fist in the hood of your car, startling you even more. He was violence.

"Get away from me!" With a brave push, your body made the great effort in pushing him off you. He barely budged, but his nose flared fumes, instead he took your wrists with a single hand and pulled you closer so you could properly have a piece of his mind.

"You don't understand, don't you?" You wriggled your hands and he bared his teeth, nearly colliding your foreheads together.

"You think I'm scared of you?!" But in truth, you were terrified beyond your wits. Heart wasn't beating, but pounding painfully the more you struggled.

"I don't want that child" He seethed through clenched teeth

"Let me go!"

"No te voy a permitir que me arruines la vida" (I won't allow you to ruin my life)

"I swear if you don't let me go, I'll scream!."

His grip loosened enough for you to wriggle your limbs away from his reach but he quickly clutched on you again, ignoring the the measly threat, desperate to find the answers you were reluctant to give him "Why are you keeping it?" He shook your body, "Why?!"

He panted in his frenzied state, and you whimpered at his manhandling. But the familiarity of violence in your life didn't break you instantly. Just made you irrational if anything.

"That's none of your business."

His chest puffed up, hand on your car's hood. He wasn't letting you go that easily. His gaze asserted dominance while stalking your own, moving his head along yours when you finally managed to free yourself from his grasp.

"Where is the check?"

"I tore it" His muscles tensed, nails digging in the fat of his hand, holding back a biting comeback, "Now get away from me."

Miguel heaved. Ire and frustration fighting over who gave the last punch. You were driving him insane, and not in the way he indulged.

"You must be the dumbest person I've known. All you had to do was to go to a fucking clinic and get yourself fixed! Why didn't you listen?!"

"Oh, fuck off!" This time the effort in your body as you pushed the wall of muscles was greater. A little light-headedness swooned over your sight. His eyes narrowed upon you exhaling through your mouth, repeatedly. Setting a pace while holding your lower back.

Physical exertion had you panting, but the emotional toll he had just put you through drained you completely. Like a vampire feeding off your sanity.

"You're sadly mistaken if you think I'll help with-"

"I'm not fucking asking you to. I've never asked and never fucking will!"

It was your time to roar while tears menaced to escape and roll down, "What makes you think I want anything that comes from you so you can throw it at my face later?"

Voice broke with a new found bravado that seeped through your panicked cracks, sick of him intimidating you, but your fight enticed him. He loved the sense of control he inflicted, it fuelled him and stroked his ego in such pleasant ways that had him folding.

"If you wanna play mommy, fine by me, but don't you dare saying I didn't try to help."

"Your fucking help was to hide your mistake before Dana found out" You gritted through teeth and he smirked, taunting even further

"You're not ready to be a mother-"

"Oh and you think you'd be a good father? You know shit about it." Vitriol dripped with every mouthful of your mind.

The two were too focused in marring each other as much as you could with words while struggling to keep afloat. He was drowning you, but you pulled him down. If you sunk, he was coming down too.

"That's precisely what I paid you for, pinche pendeja!" (Dumb bitch)

His tinge was everything but polite or caring. It didn't help that your head spun, you had to take a moment to scramble away to retch out behind a car. Slumping against the metallic structure for support.

His face squeezed into a disgusted expression at the noises you did. Concern and empathy wasn't in his vocabulary neither in his life. He just stood there, watching your hands curl as your body begged you to stop munching on his bait.

"Fuck off." you mumbled while wiping your lips with the back of your palm once the nausea subsided enough.

"What did you say?" His head tilted, vexed and amused you still had the energy to keep the bonfire alive and soaring. Just the way he liked. He was ready for round two.

"Fuck. Off."

It was the last thing you threw before scrambling to your car and locked the door. His bold hand already on the handle, doing his damnedest to pry it open. Hands banging on the now shaky glass, demanding for you to come out.

You drove away as he yelled something foreign.

The ambush had left you shaken to your very core, and just when you stopped on a red light, you finally noticed your trembling limbs, clenching on the steering wheel, anchoring to it.

Stop it stop it stop it-

Heart subdued into a claustrophobic beat within your ribcage, head spun, palpitations turned into powerful plows on your torso. Breath hitched, erratic, panicky.

No, no, no!

All you could see and hear was mommy dearest yelling, brain already sending the defense signals to your childish arms. Covering from the imminent physical lash out she'd provide after you accidentally dropped your drink in the floor.

What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Many things if honest. Eyes bleary with fat tears, panic rose the more your brain forced you to remember . Fresh belt marks burned into your arms and legs.

Nausea went rampant, but with the little strength you had, fingers moved to dial MJ's phone number between muffled sobs.

Chest rose and fell, into a frenzied breathing pattern, the unceasing honkings from the cars behind you drowned your terrified weeps. It didn't help your terrified state.

The distant voice of MJ kept ringing in your ears, imploring for you to reply, Your abdomen cramped, and your mouth screamed. Brain loaded with so much information, it was impossible to process properly.

The ringing in your ears sharpened, phone too heavy on your hands, lights came and go, dancing in such a hurried haze, forcing to clutch your chest.

A dark shadow hovered over the car's window, moving it's limbs frantically, lips moved but you couldn't hear a thing.

Mind too dazed with the past to be on the now. More shadows joined narrowing the space for light and reason, panic broke hell loose.

Throat burned at the shrill it gave out. Nails sunk on your skin. You had tried, but the shadows were stronger. And they engulfed you.

Sweetie

The muddled thoughts thrown together in a tiny space that begged for order.

Your name was called, lights danced before your eyes, following your irises movement, lids immediately covered them, a whine joined the messed up party.

"Hey, Babe."

You knew that voice. The Nyquil for your pained soul and berated brain. Soft fingers cupped your cheeks, gently turning your face upwards.

"It's me, MJ"

Touch toured to your hands, enveloping your limb in a warm embrace. Lungs exhaled a way too relaxed breath. Almost paused.

The milieu before you slowly took shape. Abstract lines and forms melding together into a red spot. It's angelic voice lured your liquified brain back to a solid mass, earning a lucid moment of thinking.

MJ. It was MJ.

"There you are" Her smile too tainted with sadness to pass as one of her genuine ones.

Your body buzzed with waves of something you couldn't pinpoint, but it felt good. Heavenly almost.

Your eyes blinked lazily, one after another, even your breathings were sluggish. Hand twitched, regaining the lost movement.

Body felt like a feather, weightless, suspended in air, floating, dreaming of silly things that definitely put an imperceptible smile in your lips. Too good to a washed up and spent you.

But the doctor's nasal voice brought you back within a few blinks. The chest hurt and itched, the urge to rub the pained area turned overwhelming, and that's when your senses came into clarity.

Finally able to discern between the abstract and intangibility from your secluded surroundings. White ceiling and walls, indistinct voices playing in the background.

Machines beeped, monitoring your heart, and so many other things you couldn't swot on even if you tried to. The stench of chemicals and sterile air permeated your tired lungs.

Phones rang unceasingly somewhere in the ostracised cubicle, fenced with a plastic curtain that separated you from the rest. Concealing your panic from prying stares. Mouth could be mistaken for the Sahara desert due the arid weather inside your crevice, swallowing was painful.

But not as painful at the look in Mary Jane gorgeous eyes.

"Hey"

She whispered as her hand squeezed tight enough for you to know she was there. That hwr presence wasn't a dream. A tired and meek hum rumbled in your throat, acknowledging her.

"Welcome back."

Her warm fingers left you for a moment, skin already missing her comfort, as yours lacked temperature, and even so in a clumsy attempt to raise your hand, you realized a bit too late that, your wrist were restrained on each side of the automated bed.

MJ disappeared for a moment to bring you a tall glass of water. She pressed a button and the bed's frame instantly bent smoothly to rise your torso upwards, transitioning your body into a lax sitting position.

Leaden legs by instinct spreaded a bit more at the uncomfortable pressure on your lower belly.

"Here." MJ brought the glass to your lips and poured gently the vital liquid, quenching slowly but surely the thirst you were oppressed into.

An elder man with salt and pepper hair entered your cubicle with a clipboard in hands, examining your state with a brief quizzical and medical stare.

"Hello! Sorry you wake up like that, but we had to sedate you. You were hurting yourself. "

It now explained the delicious high you didn't want to leave from.

"The baby is fine."

Oh

The baby. The creature you grew inside the now polluted guts, suffered no damage. But you had received all the aftermath. And something you had truly forgotten about.

People had left their cars, to certainly give you a piece of mind, but their approach changed drastically upon watching you crying, screaming and fainting. In that order.

Someone had called an ambulance as MJ bolted to your location. By the time the ambulance came, you were quanked and unconscious to recall anything.

MJ sat next to you as Mayday laid in her arms, tired, rosy mouth ajar, safe. Like she should. Like any child should.

None of you dared to speak, she knew you'd reach out when needed. And what you required was rest.

"It's alright, I'm right here."

The doctor called you by your name softly, explaining.

"Is there anyone in your family with mental illnesses?"

"My..." throat rasped, weak and broken words came out. You tried again after clearing the windpipe with a cough.

"My mother. All I know is that she had this Post-partum, uh... Psy..."

Eyes squinted, trying to remember the name.

"Post-partum Psychosis?"

"That thing."

A vehement nod from you.

"This gets a bit trickier then. You see. Right off the start, and I apologize for the sudden news. This will be a complicated pregnancy."

Shit...

MJ's face sobered, but her hand gripping yours never faltered.

"Complicated as in delivery or..." MJ inquired.

"The size of the baby, and the environmental stress only adds more weight to this. You're near the twelve weeks, and even so, passing them doesn't guarantee your baby's safety."

Your eyes squinted, confused. "Meaning?"

"The first trimester of the pregnancy is the most difficult and dangerous. Miscarriage is a higher risk."

You swallowed, hard. Free fingers crumpled the sheets underneath them.

"And I don't know what happened before you were brought here, but it was severe enough to trigger a panic attack. We had to sedate you for a bit so we could run some tests."

"Is she able to leave soon?"

"Until tomorrow. We have to monitor you and the baby responses to meds."

Fuck me.

"Meds?" The word familiar enough to recall those forbidden remembrances you always tried hard to bury for good.

"Zoloft. We still debating on it. It's safe, so don't worry. How often does these attacks happen?" routine questions really.

"It was the first one in months. The first while pregnant actually."

The doctor scribbled in the clipboard while nodding to then release your sore wrist from their confinements. A little bruising forming in them in the shape of fingers.

"Still it's an extra precaution we need to take. And some vitamins and minerals you need. Some of your readings came low, so to minimize the risk of miscarriage, I suggest you to seek a less stress inducing environment."

"I see."

In truth, you stopped paying attention after the last bit.

How and when on earth you'd find a new job in such short amount of time? Were the meds expensive?, Did your insurance even covered them or this barbed joke your body pulled out flawlessly?

Hospital night stays weren't cheap, and dread only slithered towards your head, constricting your brain in a myriad of questions that fought to be wondered first.

But one thing was certain. You needed rest and a new job. Since raise was out of the question. The doctor left, and you felt Mary Jane's burning oggling on your weakened frame.

"What happened?"

A simple yet complicated question. Reluctance once again showed up in your lips, sealing them momentarily.

"I need to know what's going on to help you"

"MJ..."

"I'm worried about you."

"I know..." Head hung, defeated, "I'm so sorry for being a burden, you were probably busy and-"

Your best friend chided your name, like she'd scold her own child.

"Darling, We've know each other for what? Five? Six years now?"

"Six when I pass the first trimester"

She chuckled, "Almost six years knowing our deepest secrets and you believe you're a burden for me. Don't be ridiculous."

Her soft hand squeezed yours tighter.

"You'd never be a burden for me, alright? I just wanna know what happened."

Her ever honest and see-through peer revealed nothing but unalloyed concern and care.

"Miguel happened." You heaved.

Her honeyed and caring look instantly hardened at the name.

"What did he do?"

"He found out somehow that I'd give the baby for adoption. And he didn't like it. Ambushed me in the parking lot and-"

"I need you to stop right there, dear. cause if you keep talking I'll call Alchemax myself and will report him for harassment."

"It wouldn't matter. He's like a god in there."

"And still, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. And that man, is going down for sure."

It surprised you to see such viciousness in MJ's usual demure demeanor. Even though your only wish was to be left alone, deep down you hoped that Miguel reaped what he had sown.

And to your luck, universe was listening your heart's whims for once.

Taglist:

@miss-taura @serpentstarr @randomnobody187   @8xbygirl   @del-ightfulling @iytatsworld @moonzuzuu @huehuehuehuehehe @ryk-mt @deputy-videogamer @sizeablysized @katitakenway @stealyourblorbos @beingdeluluisthesolulu @death-moth-art @obsessedwithromance @crybabiixo @spiderpapi2099 @tremendouswolfsaladranch @cherrycosmos392 @sbrn0905 @xylianasblog   @elgatofx @eepiebeepie @vonev @tatatida @freehentai @scaryplanetdestroyer @minalovesyoubabes @emeloyy @migueloharastruelove @jdbxws @m4dyy @nyxzoldyck6 @fruitychae @francesca-the-1st @siidmm @ana-paulinathe-arts @artyanimi @damhanallagorm @lauraolar14 @what-is-your-wish @oharasfilipinawife @jellyboob @aockskcw @ittybxttykxttytxtty @smartyren @plumplum2099 @angel-of-the-moons

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara angst #miguel angst #miguel x you #Of Flowers and Hummingbirds

[kurogane2512]

I know we are already in December but like...Hear me out-

NNN but is instead with ptn women

And I made sure to complete this before January~

PTN women during NNN

Type: Highly suggestive fluff (obvious mentions of sex and sexual acts)

Characters: Garofano, Cabernet, Chelsea, Langley, Eirene, Bai Yi, Chameleon

Can imagine any reader

Will win all the way through

CABERNET, LANGLEY

Yes, Cabernet has restraint. She has said it herself that she can wait for the ultimate taste to nurture and bloom. She can hold herself back for a month if you promise to compensate her well in the end; however, tempt her too much and you might just regret it. She won't come at you herself, but if you push her too much and are unable to hold back then she won't stop either.

Langley would make it a little challenge for you- "Prove your loyalty devotion to your boss by holding back for a month, rookie~". She will tease you the whole month and literally make you drip for her, all the while she's perfectly fine and unbothered. She doesn't have a high libido, but she loves seducing her rookie in all sorts of ways until you beg her to touch you. She knows you are going to be all over her the second the month ends.

Won't last more than 3 days

BAI YI, CHELSEA

Oh my god, these 2 horny mfs. Ahem, seriously tho neither of them can hold back their urges they are so needy. Chelsea may as well use some of her sugar mommy authority and make you obey to her needs, or she might just seduce you with sweet words and promises of pleasing you and honestly, who are you to deny? If your sugar mommy wants to be fucked, then you better be a good sugar baby and do what she wants~

Bai Yi is just..... no words, she just can't hold back her seductive teasing. She may have promised she'll comply and support you but this cheeky woman never had any intentions to let you win, she was already touchy before and now even more. She rubs her ass on your crotch with all innocent intentions, will press her boobs on your chest and snuggle up to you. And her voice? You'll melt in no time.

Will last halfway

EIRENE, GAROFANO

Eirene is needy, but she's too prideful to admit it. She'll take it as a competition to hold back, she finds it petty and thinks she's above something like NNN but if you challenge her then she takes it seriously- "Let's see who wins and there's a prize~" Oh, now she's fired up, she never runs from a competition. She thinks she is in control because she will seduce you a lot to make you lose; but truly, she's become extremely needy by the time it's halfway. But this is Eirene Campbell, the Quinn CEO, she won't ever admit defeat which is why she wants you to give in and fuck her senseless. You can edge her until she admits it but she'll keep denying and just degrade you for losing.

Garofano is possessive and wants to care for you, she doesn't care about her own needs but she can't see you suffer in any form. She is reluctant to do NNN but for you she agrees and she's genuinely sincere about it. She goes about her life like normal, but you are often putting yourself in danger and requiring her aid. She takes care of you like a mother, patching you up and gently kissing your wounds. While taking measurements for your shirts, her simple touches and brushes of her body make you tempted and she knows that well. She'll try to keep away but she can see the look in your eyes and can no longer deny you; after all, she cares too much for you. "You win, my love. I can't leave you when you need me~"

You think you won..... but did you really?

CHAMELEON

She deserves her own separate category ya'll know it. Chameleon so sly and has you wrapped around her finger. "No sex for a month? Hehe, as you wish, my darling~" She says with her usual smirk and the glint in her eyes, you know she's planning something. For the rest of the month, surprisingly nothing happens. She keeps a reasonable distance and doesn't tempt you in any way, makes no mentions and no suggestive touches. You feel like you passed the month in a breeze.... until certain memories slowly come back to you by the end.

In reality, Chameleon fucked you to her heart's content during the whole month and covered your memories of it to give you the satisfaction of winning. Every time she called you to her room, she had her fill of satifying you and herself- mostly herself. She made you fuck her as much as she wanted, and in the end she simply tampered with your mind and sent you your merry way to think you have been doing fine the whole month. Ah, you should have known this would happen....

#kuro's letters🥳 #path to nowhere #ptn #ptn x reader #chameleon #chameleon x reader #ptn chameleon #cabernet #cabernet x reader #ptn cabernet #eirene x reader #eirene #ptn eirene #langley x reader #langley #ptn langley #bai yi x reader #bai yi #chelsea x reader #countess chelsea #ptn chelsea #garofano #garofano x reader #ptn garofano