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#it wasn’t my year but i’m really relieved that i can end it on good terms writing wise 🥹
magicshopaholic · 1 day
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Past Lives (Hoseok x OC)
Summary: Faced with an ambiguous relationship from your past, you start to doubt your blossoming relationship with Hoseok.
Pairing: Hoseok x OC
Genre: I wish I could tell you what genre this is but let's go with contemplative flangst (fluff + angst)
Word count: 4.6 K
Rating: 18+
Warnings: mentions of parental death
A/N: A lot of OC focus in this one. Takes place about a month after Caterpillar, the same weekend as A Day in the Life.
Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton  @dreaming-with-happiness  @confessionsofamarshlily  @purpleseoul7 @sumzysworld @xjoonchildx @infinitehobi @handfullofcandids
Listen to: "it's hard to get around the wind" by alex turner
hoseok masterlist | main masterlist
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Chaeyoung spots the restaurant across the street and checks the map on her phone to make sure it’s the right one. A notification pops up on the top of her screen at the same time.
Hoseok [12:40] This interview is taking a bit longer than expected. I’ll keep you posted. 
Her heart leaps lightly, unexpectedly. It’s not that she’s looking forward to hanging out with him exactly, but amidst the chaos of his tour, it’s the friendly thing to do to catch up with him during the few days he is in town.
Right below Hoseok’s message, though, is the one she’d gotten earlier today - unexpected, but unavoidable.
Hi, Chaeyoung! How are you, darling? I’m in Seoul for the weekend and I was hoping we could grab lunch if you’re free? I would love to see you. Let me know!
Hesitating for a fraction of a second outside the restaurant, she wonders if she can still fake an excuse and make a break for it. But then she sighs, knowing she won’t do that. Once, she might have - and she wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But the years have passed and Chaeyoung has grown, and while the past may not have escaped her mind entirely, her reaction to it certainly has.
Stepping in, she’s about to ask the hostess about a possible reservation but then spots a table for two at the far end next to a large window, already half-occupied. Taking a deep breath, she walks over, waving when her companion looks up and spots her.
“Chaeyoung!” Soyeon’s face lights up, the faint smile lines creasing around her eyes. She stands up and moves towards Chaeyoung as if about to give her a hug but hesitates at the last moment. Chaeyoung pauses as well, before leaning forward a bit and meeting her stepmother in a slightly awkward hug.
“This is a really nice restaurant,” remarks Soyeon as they sit down. “Especially these little menus on every table,” she adds, touching the framed cocktail menu with white waves around the edges, a little trinket hanging on the side with a string. “Good choice.”
“A friend told me about it,” says Chaeyoung, glancing out of the corner of her eye at her stepmother. In her late forties, she looks fresh out of a lifestyle magazine, her long summer dress modern but with a subtle bohemian print along the edges. Years ago, that kind of clothing used to make Chaeyoung fume, for it wasn’t what the rest of the mothers wore and Soyeon stood out like a sore thumb. Today, she can’t help but appreciate the originality, wondering if trends really had changed so much over the years. 
“Oh, before I forget -” Seoyeon rummages through her white tote bag and retrieves a clear box with gold tape around it. “Tim Tams. They restocked it at the Foodhall in the mall after ages.”
It takes all of Chaeyoung’s willpower to not lunge for the box. Hands trembling slightly, she takes it at a normal pace, exhaling at the sight of her favourite dessert in the whole wide world. “I - oh, my God. I haven’t had these in so long. I’d given up on ever having these again.” She bites her lip. “Thank you.”
Soyeon beams. “I haven’t seen them in a long time either but I had to go to the mall yesterday to buy a couple of things for the trip, so I thought I’d stop and check.” She shrugs, clearly relieved at Chaeyoung’s reaction. “Guess I got lucky.”
“I mean, I’m dieting right now but Tim Tams I can make an exception for.”
“Why -” Soyeon frowns but stops abruptly. “Well, as long as you enjoy them.” She smiles as Chaeyoung sets the box to the side. There’s a few seconds of silence; now that the initial bit of this lunch has gone without any major hiccups, the pressure to keep the delicate cordiality going is surfacing. A waiter appears and a couple of minutes are occupied while they order drinks (margarita for Soyeon, mojito for Chaeyoung), and then the silence returns.
Soyeon speaks first. “So… how’s work going?” She leans forward with her hands clasped under her chin. “Are you enjoying it?”
“Um, I guess.” Chaeyoung shrugs. “It was a bit daunting at first but I think I’m getting the hang of it.” Not sure how to elaborate further, she lets her eyes wander to the rest of the room. She was right: it is a nice restaurant, breezy and floral, with tons of natural light.
“Your brother mentioned you might have to start travelling a bit,” she says, as their drinks arrive. At that moment, Chaeyoung’s phone lights up on the table.
Hoseok [12:55] The blooper reel for this interview is going to be so embarrassing. Who serves drinks and then tells jokes?
“Cheers?”
“Oh -” Chaeyoung, who had been about to absently take a sip, sheepishly clinks her glass with Soeyon’s. “I don’t know. No one’s said anything yet. I did have to go to Busan last year to cover the arts festival but -” She shrugs. “Nothing since then.”
“You covered the arts festival? That’s amazing!”
“Well, not really covered,” she clarifies, not really wanting to get into something she’d been bemoaning for a while last year. But then she catches sight of Soyeon’s full attention on her and something loosens in her stomach. “I’m still just doing research. It’s not bad, but… you know what, it’s fine. Not everyone in Conde Nast who wants to become a columnist actually becomes one,” she mutters, taking another sip of her drink.
Soyeon nods sympathetically. “I understand. Everyone starts at the bottom but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get frustrating now and then. But don’t give up,” she adds after a moment. “You have the talent.”
Chaeyoung frowns. “For research?”
“For writing.” She gives her a look. “You used to always do so well in your Korean language class - oh, and you won that essay competition, too.”
Her memories stir. “That was… eighth grade,” she murmurs, touching the edge of her fork. “I think the quality of writing at Conde Nast is probably higher than that.” She glances up to see Soyeon nod and look away. “But… you’re right. I didn’t even remember that competition,” she admits.
Soyeon raises her eyebrows. “It was a beautiful essay. The one about the mother searching for her children after the tsunami? Drove me and your father to tears when we read it.”
“Really?” Chaeyoung frowns, a faint smile appearing on her face. “My dad?”
“Oh, yes. He pretended he didn’t but I saw him tear up.” She grins. “Everyone was very proud of you that day.”
Chaeyoung says nothing. It’s coming back to her now, the fact that her father couldn’t make it to the middle school award ceremony because he worked long hours back then. Soyeon had offered to come but Chaeyoung had immediately rebuffed that by claiming only babies brought their parents along to things like this. The only person who had been cheering for her in the audience was Chanyeol - and his best friend who had been begrudgingly dragged along.
As the waiter stops by again to take their food order, Chaeyoung sneaks a glance at her phone, hoping to see another message from Hoseok. But there isn’t one; pursing her lips, she locks the screen and places it next to her plate.
“So what else is going on with you?”
“Oh, um -“ Chaeyoung tears her eyes away from her phone. “Nothing, really. How’s my dad?” she asks after a moment.
“He’s okay. Getting a little restless after retirement, but he’s adjusting.” Soyeon gives her a small smile. “He really misses you two.”
Chaeyoung tries not to scoff. “Chanyeol, maybe.”
But Soyeon shakes her head. “You, too. He tells everyone that his daughter works for a big magazine in Seoul.”
“But his son works for a tech company in Busan. The saddest day of his life was the day my brother moved out,” she points out. She looks up to see Soyeon’s expression shift to resemble something like sympathy, and immediately changes the subject. “Do you talk to him often?”
“Chanyeol? Sometimes. I travel to Busan every few months so we catch up if he has the time.”
Chaeyoung frowns slightly, unsure of what kind of answer she was expecting. It was no secret that as kids, he got along with their stepmother much better than she did, making an effort to be polite to a grown-up. 
The food arrives then and Chaeyoung clings to a couple of minutes of silence as they dig into their plates of pasta. She wonders briefly why her brother hasn’t brought up Soyeon in their conversations if they indeed talk that often. 
“He told me about his new girlfriend,” says Soyeon, sprinkling some oregano on her plate. “She sounds great.”
“Hayoung? Yeah, they were in the same class in school. She, Chan, Hoseok - all of them. She’s nice.”
“What about you?” She raises her eyebrows with a smile. “Any special boys in your life?”
Ignoring the weak jolt of her heart, Chaeyoung shakes her head. “From high school? Not a single one. I don’t think boys started liking me like that until college.”
“Well, Chanyeol was quite protective of you,” says Soyeon in a matter-of-fact way. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the boys in school thought twice about messing with you.”
It’s not that it’s a surprise, really, but she feels a sudden rush of affection for her brother. She remembers the ice creams and the free use of all his toys and his generosity with pocket money, but maybe it extended further than that. Maybe, just maybe, her childhood idea of she and her brother being a team against the world wasn’t entirely in her head.
“He can get annoying sometimes, too,” she says nonchalantly, recolving to call him later tonight, just to chat. “He pesters me endlessly to download this app that’s supposed to track my spending and savings for me.”
Soyeon doesn’t say anything but the look in her eyes makes it clear she isn’t fooled by the blasé tone. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I’m just going to run to the ladies’ room.” She scoops up her phone and slides out of the chair, walking away as her dress flows behind her.
Chaeyoung picks up her phone. There isn’t a message from Hoseok yet, but she sends him one anyway.
Chaeyoung [13:30] Having one of the stranger afternoons of my life. I’ll tell you about it later. If you’re ever done with your interview, that is.
She sends both messages, hoping a second later that she isn’t coming across as desperate. She begins to panic but then a reply appears.
Hoseok [13:32] Can’t wait to hear all about it.
Her heart leaps as Soyeon returns, a faint citrus scent following her. “Sorry about that. What is it?” she asks.
“What is what?”
“You were smiling just now.” 
“Oh.” This isn’t a topic she wants to get into with anyone, least of all her stepmother. There’s the latent fear that whoever she talks to will automatically think she’s regressed into her obsessive teenage self, while the much more real fear is that it might just be true.
It’s not just you. He kissed you, too. He’s texting you, too. He wants to hang out with you, too.
The mantra repeats itself in her head, objective truths that make all the difference between their old dynamic and their new one.
“It’s nothing.”
Soyeon pauses but evidently lets it go. “Okay. Actually, there is something I wanted to talk to you about. It’s not really the kind of thing I wanted to say over the phone.” She licks her lips, looking slightly nervous.
“Okay,” says Chaeyoung slowly, setting down her phone and sitting back in her chair.
“Um… so, your father and I… well, we’re doing our estate planning. You know, working on our wills.”
“Why?” Chaeyoung asks sharply, hearing the sudden anxiety in her own voice. “What’s - what’s wrong with -”
“No, nothing!” Soyeon shakes her head immediately, holding up her hands. “Your father is fine. It’s just run of the mill stuff, you know. Just so we have all our affairs in order. Nothing is wrong,” she clarifies, waiting for Chaeyoung to nod before continuing. “So… he is, of course, dividing his assets between you and your brother, but since I don’t have children of my own…” She clears her throat, eyes flickering downward.
Chaeyoung says nothing. This conversation is taking an unexpected route and this is the last topic she wants to deal with today.
“Well… there are some things I own that I would’ve probably left to my daughter, if I had one. Jewellery and the like, things I got for my wedding - and I’m not saying you’re my daughter or that I’m your -” She clarifies quickly, and Chaeyoung nods again, wordlessly. “But… I would like to leave that to you, if you’re alright with it.”
Her phone lights up again, another message from Hoseok.
Hoseok [13:45] Fucking hell. There’s a road blocked on the way to the airport so I’ll have to leave earlier than planned. Filming might get pushed up but I’ll still try to make it. Letting you know just in case.
The disappointment in her stomach feels faint, like she’s imagining it - or hoping for it. Chaeyoung forces herself to respond in a steady voice.
“Um, I think you can leave your things to whoever you want. I don’t think you need to ask.”
Soyeon nods, and her eyes fall slightly. “I know,” she says softly. “But I want to ask. We aren’t very close and… I don’t want to presume anything.”
Chaeyoung bites her lip. Her chest feels uncomfortable, and she tries to work out which road on the way to the airport might be blocked. Why it would, today of all days, how much earlier Hoseok would have to leave to catch his flight, and what the odds might be of him actually meeting her at Sephora later today. 
“Chaeyoung?”
“I -” Chaeyoung clears her throat. “Of course, you can. Thank you.”
Soyeon raises her eyebrows for a moment, as though surprised at this quick response. “Oh. Okay. Wonderful. That’s - that’s really… thank you.” She smiles and reaches for her drink, taking a quick sip. “I should ask for some more ice. What about you? More ice?”
“Sure. And… I know we aren’t very close.” Chaeyoung looks down at her plate before forcing herself to meet her stepmother’s eyes. Her stepmother, who made sure that not a single birthday went by without wishes and a gift. “But that’s on me,” she mutters.  “You did your best.”
The waiter stops by and it seems to take Soyeon a moment to remember why she had called him. As she requests him for more ice and to clear their plates, Chaeyoung glances at her phone out of the corner of her eye and feels the knot in her chest loosen. Maybe the road will get unblocked by the evening. Maybe filming will end early, or maybe there won’t be traffic between Big Hit and Sephora.
“You know, you can leave jewellery to Chanyeol, too,” she half-jokes when they get their dessert menus. “He’s not bad at accessorising.”
Soyeon chuckles. “You might be right. I am planning to give him something, though.” She hesitates. “In a year or two, if everything looks like it’s going well… I was thinking of giving him my engagement ring. I’m hoping he’ll propose to Hayoung with it, if he wants.”
Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows. “Wow. That’s… wow, an engagement ring. Oppa’s growing old,” she remarks in wonder, making Soyeon laugh. “He and Hayoung make a good couple, though. I could see her as my sister-in-law.”
“Yes, but I want to ask him when the time is right.” She leans forward slightly. “Can it stay between you and me till then?”
Chaeyoung nods, somewhat endeared by the prospect. They order a tiramisu to share and return the menus, when another message pops up on her phone.
Hoseok [13:55] Interview just got done. Do you think you can meet me at Sephora in about an hour?
Chaeyoung grabs her phone and immediately types out a reply. “Sorry,” she mutters to Soyeon, hastily sending a Yeah, I’ll be there to him.
“No problem. Everything okay?”
“What?” She sets her phone down. “Yes, everything is… okay. It’s good.” But she can feel the smile starting to spread across her face, suddenly glad she had the foresight to bring the gift card with her to lunch.
“Yeah? Someone interesting been texting you all afternoon?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” she answers automatically. “I mean, not interesting, just… it’s Hoseok,” she admits lamely.
“Our Hoseok?” Soyeon looks both surprised yet somewhat knowing. “Chanyeol mentioned you two were friendly now, but are you…”
“Friends?” Chaeyoung guesses. “Yeah, I guess. We both live here and I guess we started hanging out last year…” She shrugs, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach. “It’s not a big deal. But, yeah… we’re friends.”
“That’s nice,” she says. But there’s that knowing look in her eye again, and Chaeyoung isn’t sure if it’s a guess or if she’s being that obvious. “You two kind of… clashed growing up.”
Chaeyoung rolls her eyes, grudgingly appreciating Soyeon’s attempt at being diplomatic. “That would be an understatement. But, yeah, I guess once I stopped being a creepy stalker and he got his head out of his ass… we actually get along pretty well.”
Soyeon waves her hand as the tiramisu arrives and they each grab a small silver spoon. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she says as they attack the dessert together. “You were a kid - and everybody that age wants validation from someone they look up to. You had a crush,” she tells her. “We’ve all been there.”
Chaeyoung knows it’s meant to be comforting, but it struggles to get through. What if I’m still there?
“Can I tell you a secret?” she blurts out. It suddenly occurs to her that there are two people at this table who lost their mothers when they were children. “You can’t tell anyone - especially not my brother.”
“Of course,” says Soyeon instantly. “Is everything okay?”
At this pivotal moment, Chaeyoung’s voice seems to give up on her. It’s happened before, the couple of times she’d been about to confide in Sooah before chickening out, for there was no guarantee anymore that she wouldn’t tell Jimin. Sunmi would be no help in general, her work friends weren’t close enough and had zero context, and Chanyeol was simply out of the question.
She clears her throat. “Hoseok and I… kissed,” she confesses before she can lose her nerve. She sees Soyeon’s face start to relax and hurriedly continues. “It was the night of my birthday. He came over, brought me a Sephora gift card and cupcakes… and we hung out. He offered to go skincare shopping with me and told me about his tour. And then right before he left… he kissed me. Or we - we kissed,” she finishes awkwardly, wishing she was less incoherent about this.
“Oh. So, are you two dating?”
“No,” she answers immediately, realising now that she was also possibly dreading an over-the-top reaction by Sooah, one that would make her want to crawl under her bed covers and never reappear. “No, we’re still friends. We haven’t really talked about it. He’s been abroad ever since. It’s… kind of confusing, that’s all.” When Soyeon doesn’t respond, Chaeyoung worries she may have overshared. “What?”
“Nothing…” Soyeon bites her lip. “I’m trying to decide between the advice I should give and the advice I actually want to.”
“The second one.”
“Okay, then.” She sets her spoon down, their half-eaten tiramisu abandoned between them. “I watched Hoseok grow up and while I love him like family… I would tell you to protect yourself.”
Chaeyoung pauses, not expecting this. “What’s the advice you should be giving?”
“You know…” Soyeon shrugs. “Follow your heart, tell him how you feel, don’t be ashamed of your feelings.” She purses her lips. “I’m not saying you should be ashamed of your feelings or that you shouldn’t follow your heart, but… maybe you want to see where this goes before confessing anything? He’s doing so well for himself and we’re all very proud, but I can’t imagine that that life would be a walk in the park to put up with. Just… don’t be in a hurry, especially if you’re not sure how he feels.” She pauses. “Or how you feel.”
There are too many grudging truths in this piece of advice. For the first time all day, she doesn’t immediately glance at her phone when it lights up with a message.
“Did I spoil your mood?” Soyeon asks as they’re heading out. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intention. I was just trying to -”
“No, I know.” Chaeyoung interrupts her. It’s raining now; the sunniness of the day has disappeared as though it never existed and they stand under the roof right outside the door of the restaurant. “You didn’t spoil anything. Maybe… maybe we’re just meant to be friends and nothing more.”
“Maybe. I’m not pretending like I know everything about your relationship with him. I know that he’s a good kid with a good heart, and so are you. And teenage reactions don’t mean much when you’re grown up.” Soyeon tilts her head and places a hand on Chaeyoung’s shoulder. “I’m not at all surprised that you two get along. And he would be incredibly lucky to be with you. But maybe I’m biased.”
They exchange a small smile. It feels a bit more real now: the kiss, the feelings, the fact that Jung Hoseok isn’t just a teenage fantasy anymore. 
“Thanks. That’s good advice. I could’ve used more of it over the years,” she adds. 
Soyeon averts her gaze for a moment before looking up again and smiling. “We have time,” she says. “I’m just a phone call away.”
Chaeyoung nods. One of the stranger afternoons of my life. “And thank you for the Tim Tams.”
Soyeon laughs. “Don’t worry. I bought a second box just for myself.” Chaeyoung grins as Soyeon’s phone pings and a cab pulls up in front of the restaurant. “How are you getting home?”
“Oh, I’m going to Sephora - er, the mall. I’ll take the bus,” she says, pointing at the bus stop across the street. “It’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Soyeon raises her eyebrows. “Alright. Text me when you reach. And… say hi to Hoseok for me.” Her eyes twinkle and without thinking, Chaeyoung steps forward and hugs her stepmother. Soyeon seems to freeze for a fraction of a second before hugging her back. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart,” she murmurs, stroking her hair. “And have fun at Sephora.” Stepping away and tucking a strand of hair behind Chaeyoung’s ear, Soyeon hurries out into the rain and into the waiting cab. 
Chaeyoung waves to her as she leaves, too many mixed feelings churning through her. But it’s lighter somehow and as she crosses the street in the rain, cringing slightly as her hair gets wet, she suddenly feels older and more capable.
There’s too much to unpack from this afternoon so she decides to keep it aside until she gets home. As she nears the mall, the city caught in an unseasonal shower, the only part of her lunch with Soyeon that seems impossible  compartmentalise is the bit about Hoseok.
He would be incredibly lucky to be with you. Part of her knows she’s jumping the gun; apart from the one kiss they shared and the innocent flirting at best, there has been nothing to indicate that they’re anything more than just good friends. 
But there’s the other part, the part where he’s been texting her whenever he can, joking around with her, moving his schedule around just to shop with her. She isn’t imagining it, but the more she has to convince herself of it, the less special is feels.
It’s still raining when she reaches the mall. Splashing through the small puddles in the pavilion, she hurries into the mall, the AC making her shiver.
“Shit,” she mutters, tugging her thin cotton shrug around her. She catches her reflection in a mirror by the door of a clothing store and groans inwardly; her long hair, painstakingly shampooed, conditioned and straightened this morning, is damp and wavy down her shoulders, strands sticking to her forehead. Her eyeliner seems to have smudged as well, making her look like a drowning raccoon.
Hoseok [14:30] Just reached. Where are you?
Chaeyoung sighs and glances back up at her reflection. Taking a selfie of herself scowling, she superimposes it on a dramatic graphic of a stormy sky and sends it to him.
Chaeyoung [14:32] [photo] Got caught in the rain. I look like a crack addict.
Hoseok [14:33] OMG You still look cute, haha. Very punk. Like, bubblegum punk.
Chaeyoung feels a smile spread across her face at the response. Looking back up at her reflection, she shakes out her damp hair so it falls tousled down her shoulder. A lot more confident than she was a few moments ago, she makes her way to the escalator.
Sephora is on the second floor of the mall, with all the other cosmetics and skincare stores. It’s the biggest one, though, looking shiny and expensive.
As she approaches the store, she spots Hoseok inside. He’s wearing a hoodie, a baseball cap and a mask, but Chaeyoung recognises him instantly. He’s standing a bit to the inside of the store, in a corner by the eye creams, rubbing his eyes and looking down at his phone.
At the exact same time that Chaeyoung’s heart flutters at the sight of him, a different part of her conversation with Soyeon resurfaces out of nowhere. She takes a step back so she’s behind a pillar; she’s sure he can’t spot her now. Opening the camera of her phone, she holds it up to her face to look at her reflection again.
It can’t be. A simple text from Hoseok can’t change her opinion in an instant, not this much. Is it true, though? Is she, after all these years, still looking for validation from him?
It’s a more humiliating thought than any memory of her childhood crush. Liking Hoseok all over again is something she can handle; wanting his validation, his approval - it’s a path she can’t go down again.
Chaeyoung lowers her phone to sneak a look at Hoseok again. He’s taken off his mask now. A few people seem to have recognised him, but his attention is on his phone, face pensive.
She realises she hasn’t replied to his last message. Her thumbs hover over the screen; it’s not her finest moment, but she knows she can’t do this until she’s had some time to reflect, alone.
Chaeyoung [14:38] I might need to take a raincheck, literally. It’s pouring and I can’t get a single cab. I’m sorry.
With a heavy heart and hoping she doesn’t regret this, she sends the text. Peering from behind the pillar, she watches as Hoseok gets the message. He stares at his phone for a few seconds, his shoulders falling, before visibly sighing and taking off his cap. He runs a hand through his dark hair and puts the cap back on.
Hoseok [14:39] Oh. That’s cool. Let me know when you get back home safe, okay?
Chaeyoung almost gives it up right then but when she sees Hoseok exiting the store, she immediately flattens herself behind the pillar. Taking great care to not be seen, she watches Hoseok go down the escalator and disappear into the crowd.
Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)
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lale-txt · 5 months
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the sweet feeling when you’ve been pondering on an idea forever and finally have a vision how to execute it properly… like a ball of yarn unraveling before your eyes ahhh
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romanoffsbish · 6 months
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You Can Run, but You Can’t Hide
Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Omega!Reader
Natasha always knew the truth, but it wasn’t until a mission where she had you alone that she set her plan in motion. Come the end of the trip she planned to make your hers in the most natural way—claimed and bred. | WC: 1,440
Warnings: NC Themes (Discarding of hormone blockers) | Guns / Death (to Hydra)
Smut: Kotenok (R) | Penetration (P in V — Natasha has a penis) | Public (Over [a balcony railing]) | Choking | Breeding
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Natasha watched the way you paced around the room, it'd been a weeks time since you'd arrived in this hotel. A mission that you were assigned on with Natasha, an Avenger first, Alpha second, but nonetheless an Alpha.
Which would be fine, since you were a beta, but with your medicine missing the truth was coming to light. The truth that the redhead was aware of from the second the lie left your lips, you were an omega; hers, waiting for what, she didn’t know, but she was over it.
———
That's why she took your stash of hormone blockers and poured them down the toilet on night one, at first she appreciated your concealment since she was busy. Missions were at an all time high last year when you joined Shield, but with the incoming fall of Hydra, as this mission is designed for such a thing, there was no longer a need for you to hide from predatory alpha's.
Natasha was here now, to make sure they all knew you were hers. Hers to claim, to wreck, to fill with her pups.
Her cock twitched when she got a whiff of your scent, it was dull from the prolonged use of drugs, but it was still clear enough for her to feel comforted by the soft swirls of cinnamon and vanilla. Then it soured as your body began to fight against the natural, debilitating heat that followed a sudden change, such as quitting your meds. Natasha was quick to croon from the other room, pumping out thick pheromones as she slowly entered the room. You looked up at her so pitifully.
"Oh kotenok," she coo'd, "You don't look too good, what's wrong beta? Are you going through a period?"
You whimpered, body trembling as your natural instincts made you throw yourself into her chest. "Alpha please." Natasha wrapped her arms around you, and held you close enough that you could feel her twitch through her pants. You cried and she smirked. “Oh, what a naughty girl, you’re no beta after all…”
Judging by her teasing tone, you understood that she knew, and with the way she gripped you, it was even more clear what had happened to your supply. You should be angry, but you were actually relieved. A single alpha like Natasha was rare to find, she was kind, soft when off the clock, and gorgeous in all facets. You’d almost poured the pills down the drain yourself every time you caught her staring at you after an event.
“I’m sorry, but please don’t pull away, I-I need you.”
"Are you gonna tell me why you've been hiding?"
"I-I wasn't ready to give up my life just yet, but fuck, I swear I'm ready now, if it's with you alpha, please."
"We have a mission," she reminded you, her eyes cast outside the window to catch movement of the enemy.
"Please!" You gripped her biceps, body shivering at the chiseled muscles that flexed beneath your fingers, if you didn't need her before, you sure did now. "Shit."
Natasha kept your body from falling with the buckle of your knees, her free hand reached for her long rifle and she took the both of you outside onto the balcony.
"I'll fuck you," she gave in with ease, and you purred softly at the good news. Then you felt her slipping your pants off and softly shrieked, "We're outside Natasha, anyone can see us." She chuckled, "Good observation."
Natasha continued to strip you while her other hand set her gun up on its stand, a bit of a multitasker.
"I can wait," you tried to stop her, but not really as you arched your bare ass into her dicks imprint, your body having a mind of its own, your heat was too strong. "Well, I don't want to detka, I've waited far too long."
Though you’d guessed it, you were shocked at the way she confirmed it without an ounce of shame. “Y-you knew?" Natasha gripped your hip, and brought your dripping entrance to her thick tip. "Of course I did, you can't hide from a super soldier's senses," her nose nuzzled over your neck and you whimpered at the hopeful promise of her claiming you. No longer were you worried about anyone seeing you two, the rest of the world faded away as she slipped herself inside.
Her hips stayed still, allowing your slick walls a moment to catch up with the stretch before she was lifting you off the ground. "Na-Natasha, what are..."
The redhead grunted as she lifted your body onto the railing by her grip around the nape of your neck, and you cried out in both fear and pleasure. It was muffled as she alluringly slid her hand around to squeeze your throat. The tip of her cock had slammed into your cervix just as you stared down at the far away ground, full of tiny silhouettes to remind you it was day time. 
The railing shook as Natasha picked up a brutal pace, her face never lost its smirk as she felt your legs wrap around her backside, your heels painfully dug into her covered back. "Alpha, I-I'm not sure about..."
"You wanted to be filled Y/N," she taunted, "I said we had a mission, that means you'll take your pleasure while I do all of the work. Be thankful, not bratty."
"Sorry Alpha," you whimpered, and held on tighter.
"There's the leader," she pointlessly alerted you, who couldn't see anything other than her demise if she slips over the railing. Your walls were clenching so hard, hoping to instigate her knot so that you'd have a more secure base, but it was fruitless. Natasha's stamina was unworldly, and you were completely at her mercy here.
You heard a muffled shot go off over the sound of the railing squeaking beneath your moving body, then the gun was going off again. "Partner is down, two to go."
Natasha picked up her pace, and was rewarded with your filthy moans that were once muffled by your fear, and she knew she wouldn't last much longer. Which was fortunate for the both of you since she already shot another member, and was left with the other who had caught sight of the both of you. He was stuck in place, unable to comprehend that he was going to die by the hands of the Black Widow, who was railing her omega.
Natasha smirked, and finally gave into your cries to be upright. She grunted as your back pressed to her front and your slick, from your first orgasm, ran down her legs. "Last one detka, keep him distracted for me."
Your eyes locked on the others, the mans mouth was agape as he watched you get railed, it distracted him from the red dot that illuminated his forehead. He was clearly unaware of his fate as his eyes lost their life but you were aware of yours as her knot locked in place and her potent stream of cum filled you with a future.
"You are going to look so beautiful full of my pups," Natasha hoarsely groaned against your neck, her teeth barely scraped over your sensitive gland and you mewled, your walls milked her cock even more and her knot subsequently deflated after a minute of your persistence . “Fuck, I need to fill you again kotenok.”
Her strong hands held you by your hips as she carried you back into the hotel room. She laid you flat on the mattress, and pulled out of you, just long enough to flip you over and thrust right back inside of you. It was loud as your arousals rushed out, only to be sloshed all over the place as her cock entered you mid disposal.
Your body then thrashed at the harsh fill up and her canines dug into your scent gland, leaving behind her unbreakable mark as your core fluttered around her as you came again without much work. "Keep squeezing me just like that detka and we'll never be apart again."
"Good," you sighed softly, happiness clear in your eyes, "I was getting tired of being apart to begin with."
Natasha chuckled, and leaned in to chastely kiss your lips, "It was your choice to hide detka, I was waiting."
"I'm glad you grew impatient," you mused, then you nervously pressed a kiss to her neck, wet lips grazed over her scent gland. "Can I claim you too, Alpha?"
"Wait," she whispered, voice raspy as she began to pump in and out of you, "Wait for my knot detka..."
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dazed--xx · 4 months
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SKZ Reaction: He hurts the reader II (Hyung Line)
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A/N: this is for @slayhyunjin one of my favorite followers and I’d like to say a friend now. Merry Christmas hun you wanted them to make up and I did what I could but please remember in part one Minho was a Yandere so his is technically a good ending in his mind but I will have the Maknae line out soon so get the cutest most fluffy Jeongin pics ready cause that was what was promised 😭😂 but anyway I hope y’all enjoy this and it makes y’all a little happy to see that I’m alive and still writing.
Masterlist Part 1
Chan:
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Your phone had been ringing off the charts since you had left your shared apartment with Chan. You stared at the waves of the ocean as the sea breeze kissed your tear stained cheeks. Your fear had dwindled in the hours you had been sitting here on this empty beach. You bite your lip, maybe you did misunderstand. You knew Chan almost better than you knew yourself; which is why you know he’d never cheat on you. You know that she probably did fall or even if she purposely fell Chan was probably innocently helping her up because that’s the type of person he is. Well, you thought he was…that is until that lamp whipped past your head and was sent crashing against the wall. Guilt filled you as you remembered the way Chan pleaded with you not to go. He knew you had nowhere to stay, you weren’t from South Korea though you had lived here for almost 5 years it wasn’t easy for you to make friends as a foreigner wether you fit in or not. You didn’t fit with most of the things that happened around you in this country and without your relationship with Chan though, living here was apart of your dreams growing up, you would have never made the leap into moving here without him and his support. Tears filled your eyes once again as you remembered the only people you have to talk to would probably immediately send Chan over to your location. You hate yourself for wishing he was actually here, you hate how much you feel like you need his insight in what you should do but you did know he’d probably think of an answer logically without including his own emotions into whatever advice he’d give you. You sigh heavily as you lift yourself from the sand and make your way back to your car. Your phone in hand as the special ringtone you had set for Chan blared through the speaker. You almost chuckle to yourself at the irony; he finally called you right after you thought about how much you needed his help. You were relieved to see the comforting texts from his members after they had called but for those few hours you had been gone Chan hadn’t once called you. Pressing the green button you lift the phone to your ear hesitantly as you sit yourself in the drivers seat. .
You almost let out a sob as you heard his tear laced voice ring through your phone “Y-Y/N?” He questioned as he sniffled. You hear him struggling to catch his breath between his sobs “Y/N if you���re there you don’t have to say anything but please just listen..” he pleads, you could tell he was trying to calm his breathing “I-I’m so sorry, I know what you saw with that trainee looked really really bad…b-but I swear I don’t even know that girl. She is—was just a backup dancer for the Case 143 concept but since she made you and me uncomfortable we all agreed she can work with Itzy or Twice.” Your heart clenches at his caring nature which is why the girl still had a job in the first place. “But Her actions and my behavior wasn’t okay and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that and I don’t want to make any excuses like I was angry because that doesn’t make it okay. I should have never gotten that violent, I should have just let you cool off and came to talk to you when we both had calmed down and. For that I’m so sorry and if you don’t want to be with me anymore I’d completely understand honestly I think you shouldn’t be with me anymore because what I did isn’t okay and I know that and i deserve for you to leave—ITS NOT LIKE YOU HIT ME OR ANYTHING!” You exclaim almost fuming at the way he was describing himself “it doesn’t matter. What I did was wrong and I don’t want you to justify it either. I was wrong to do that it makes me sick to my stomach knowing I could have really hurt you. Thank god I didn’t but what if I did? I wasn’t paying attention Y/N you could have gotten seriously hurt what would have happened if it hit you—but it didn’t” you cut him off once again, as tears rolled down your cheeks “Chan are you breaking up with me?” You hear a whimper release from his lips “Why would you want to be with a guy that almost hurt you physically?” He questions “you even said you wanted to get your stuff and leave me because of all this” he cries “why wouldn’t I want to protect you even if it’s from myself? I love you more than anything in this world and that’s why I don’t want you to forgive me because the idea of you getting hurt by my own hand makes me disgusted I can’t even look at you without feeling like shit knowing I really fucked this up” your heart cracks at the pain and guilt laced in his tone “you want to know why I do want to forgive you?” You ponder “You do?” He asks bewildered you give yourself a small sad smile before answering “yes, because if you were really the type to hurt me physically you wouldn’t feel like breaking up would be the best option, you think about things rationally and always put how I feel or could possibly feel first. You genuinely show that you care about me and it makes me know you’re a genuinely good person and that’s why I love you that’s why I want to be with you. Things were…intense to say the least but I do want to work things out soon maybe not today maybe not tomorrow but I do want to work things out with you and move on from this with you as your girlfriend” the line goes silent for a second “okay..b-but can I ask you something?” He asks hesitantly “yeah anything..” you reply instantly. “C-can we move on from this with you as my fiancé? I really didn’t want to propose like this but I really really want to marry you and I can’t imagine us breaking up without me at least asking you s-so that y-you do know my intentions” You can hear the hesitation and love in his words the question really throws you for a loop “C-can I answer you when I’m ready to come talk? I do want to be with you but I’d like to be proposed to properly I don’t want to remember the way we got engaged like this even though the answer is and will always be yes but for right now it’s a maybe later I love you Channie I’ll see you in couple days I promise..” you reply lovingly. You can almost hear the smile on his lips as he responds “I’d wait for you forever don’t worry I’ll see you soon my love and I’ll do it right next time I promise..”
Minho:
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The smell of mildew filled your nose, the feeling of your bed is different. Your eyes are burning as they adjust to the fluorescent light, your eyes widen in shock. This isn’t your room. You look around in a panic as you throw the foreign blanket off you. You look around the room, you didn’t see a single window. The only furniture that was there was the bed you were seated on and a chair across the room facing where you were once sleeping. Where were you? You lift yourself from the bed and make your way toward the door, noticing your lack of pants and shoes you rush toward the door trying to twist and pull on the knob before slamming your fist into it repeatedly “HELLO?! HELLO?! IS ANYONE THERE?” You call as you continue to pound your fist on the door. Panic filling your body in a tidal wave you hear footsteps coming toward you “HELLO?! Who’s there?! PLEASE HELP ME!” You hear the person stop infront of the door as you try to open it again. “Hello?!” You call once more to the stranger finally realizing how much of a bad idea it was. You had no clue who was on the other side of that door. It could be the person that put you here. Were they going to hurt you? What did they want? You questioned to yourself, bile rose in your throat as you heard the slight ‘click’ from the lock and see the knob turn “W-wait!” You shout the door doesn’t move “A-are you going to hurt me?” You question pressing your ear to the door only to hear silence in return “please answer me” you plead the stranger knocks once “d-does that mean yes?” You question fear filling your tone. They knock once again “Does that mean no?” You hear two knocks in response “O-Okay…why am I here? Where am I?” You hear a heavy sigh on the other side of the door before they force it open.
Your eyes widen in shock and relief washes over you, as you’re greeted by your boyfriend. “Minho!” You exclaim tears almost streaming down your face as you rush over to him and wrap your arms around his neck burying your face in his neck “Thank god! Why did you do that why didn’t you answer me I’m so scared right now and you couldn’t just tell me what was going on? What happened why am I here how’d I get here? Where are my clothes?” You question as you pull back noticing the stoic expression on his face “I took them” he states matter of factly. “W-why?” You question slowly removing yourself from from him “so you can’t leave of course” he smiles sinisterly. Your mouth hanging open in shock “what? You did this to me so I can’t leave?” He smiles once more the light that always sat in his eyes now gone their almost soulless. “Min what’s going on? Something seems off” you question nervously as you take a step back away from him “you think it’s okay to break up with me? I think it’s quite okay that I prevent that. You told me to not come back to see you anymore. I can’t just let that happen, it’s okay you just have to stay here; I’ll take care of you baby, don’t worry.” He says taking a small step toward you as he placed a pout on his lips “can’t you hug me again? I wasn’t ready so I really didn’t get to hold you like I wanted” his hand caresses your cheek “what do you mean I just have to stay here? What about my apartment? My job? My friends and family?” You question. Minho smiles sickeningly “That’s the best part baby everyone already thinks you’re either dead or missing at the very least. It’s okay I made everything look very believable and it won’t be linked to me or anything I am really sorry that I did have to collect your blood a little, I know you’re scared of needles that’s why I put those pills in your drink so you would sleep through it cause I know you’d be scared but, because I needed everyone to think you’d died in the ordeal but you can’t even feel it can you? I really did a great job right baby? Now we can be together and nothing is wrong anymore everything is fine. I mean it will suck to have to act really sad around my members knowing you’re alive but I have to so they don’t think something is wrong didn’t I do good baby? I’ll always do great things for you and now you can be free from those burdens, I’ll take care of you. You can live here it’s a house I know about that’s underground you can walk around it as you like. I’m sorry I locked you in here but you were sleeping and I didn’t want you to possibly sleep walk or anything because that was one of the side effects—you’re fucking crazy” you cut him off in shock at his admissions. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You growl. Fear grows in your stomach as his façade drops the smile quickly gone from his lips turning into a straight line.
“Fine then I guess you can’t go around as you like. And if you try to run I’ll cut your Achilles tendon look I don’t want to have to do it this way but you’re not giving me a choice so go lay on your bed and think about what you said to me and fucking fix it when I come back with food for you. I love you so I don’t want to have to leave you in here for too long, but I am an Idol you know? things like random world tours can come up and be there for months on end so who would take care of you if I decide to leave you here while I go? Either figure out if you want to be truly like the old you and die in a bloody gory death. If you be good and listen to me like you used to then I’ll be just as good to you. I don’t want to hurt you nor does the idea appeal me honestly it makes me nauseous but I’ll do what I have to. Be good lay down and just let me love you the way only I can. There’s no one else for you anyway it’s us for the rest of our lives babe and if you have a problem with that, well I’ll take Stockholm Syndrome even if it’s your own brain tricking you into loving me again just so you can dissociate from this. I’ll take it but if you act like this again we will have an issue.” He threatens tilting his head to the side taking a step toward you “Do you want there to be an issue?” You shake your head in response “O-of course not, Min I-I was just surprised by what you said. I’m just mad you had to use a needle on me but I really appreciate all the effort you went through, y-you did well I promise. Im not mad at you im sorry for trying to break up with you I won’t ever do it again but Min I don’t want to stay here let me go with you.” You force out, you felt like throwing up at the softness of your tone. “I’m sorry baby you have to stay here but if you’re really not mad come here give me a kiss let me hold you.” You pout at his words “p-please min I don’t want to be left here don’t leave me here please I’ll be good ill listen to your rules can’t I just be with you all the time? C-can’t I just live with you? I’m scared please Min” you plead, you felt disgusted with yourself begging him but you could tell he’s unstable and you didn’t know what he was truly capable of but you knew this was not going to end well if you didn’t listen to him. Bringing yourself closer to him you place your lips on his feeling his arms wrap around you and you could almost pretend like things were how they used to be.
Changbin:
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Waking up in a panic you look around the room, almost worrying when you didn’t find Changbin sleeping beside you. The events from the night previous replay in your mind as you lift yourself from the bed. A sharp sting spreads throughout your back. You groan in pain, the door shooting open at the sound. “Y/N, are you okay?” Changbin rushes into the room in a frenzy. You stare at him bewildered, “yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” You question almost sarcastically. You finally notice his disheveled state, the ghost of the trails of tears that streamed down his face. The scabs and bruises on his knuckles, you’re eyes widen in shock seeing his hands. Almost like a reflex you rush out of bed and grab his hand “What happened?!” You question worriedly taking his hand in yours .“I’m an asshole….” He states with a pout on his lips. “What? What happened to your hand Binnie? Are you okay?” He removes his hand from your grasp. “I’m a disgusting person…I was mad that I-sigh- I was mad that I hurt you s-so I punched the wall” you’re eyes widen “YOU PUNCHED THE WALL?!” You exclaim. “I fixed it after I made a hole in it. I have to paint it but it’s fixed” he murmurs. “DO YOU REALLY THINK I CARE ABOUT THAT FUCKING WALL? ILL DEMOLISH IT IF I WANTED TO WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” You growl at him anger growing in your gut at the idea of him hurting himself. “I deserved it.” He states matter of factly. “Honestly I deserve worse. I’m sorry, but when you were sleeping I checked on your back and put some ointment on it but it’s a really big bruise. S-seeing it….I wanted to die. I hate myself for doing that to you. I got really mad at myself and it just happened. I’m so sorry, you don’t understand how much I said it when you were sleeping but I need you to know I’m really sorry and that it won’t happen again because-sigh-Y/N I think we should break up.” He sobs. You stare at him. “What? You want to break up? W-why? I won’t be clingy or harass you anymore I love you I don’t want to break up” you cry.
It was his turn to be shocked “Y/N I hurt you. I gave you a huge bruise on your back. I put my hands on you which is something I never thought I’d do. I can’t be with you knowing I did that and honestly I’m disappointed you would just let it go. Don’t make excuses for me, don’t try to justify it because there is no justification. I can’t redeem myself from this—yes you can—No I can’t you may be able to forgive me but I won’t be able to forgive myself. Look at your back Y/N! Actually fucking look at it I look like a domestic abuser. It makes me fucking sick!” He snaps. Your heart feels like it’s being ripped right from your chest and dangled infront of you. “Bin I love you I don’t want to break up we can figure things out. We can fix this. My back will heal” you go to grab his hand again “but the trauma from it won’t. Not right away.” He states sadly as he takes a step back. You let out a whimper “please we can work through this I love you. I know you’re going to be disappointed that I want to forgive you. But look at you right now I know you wouldn’t do it again you look like you hate yourself right now. You are beating yourself up already why would I pour salt on that wound I’m sorry but you’re not breaking up with me I’m the one that got hurt I’m the one with the bruise on my back so I’m the one that gets to make this decision and we’re not breaking up.” You see the disappointment on his face “Y/N.—no we’re not breaking up if that’s what you want to say then I don’t want to hear it” you argue placing your hands on your ears. A pout etched onto your lips as you stare at him with tear filled eyes. You shake your head at him. A small sad smile spreads across his lips. “Okay. You win we won’t break up. Im happy you’re quite stubborn and strong willed when it comes to people you love. But I am disappointed you would forgive someone that hurt you physically…” His tone is soft and caring. You feel the anxiety of a break up dwindling as you wrap your arms around Changbins neck placing soft kisses against his cheek. “I love you, you’ll forgive yourself in time with me by your side okay?”
Hyunjin:
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“It’s just a sprain. Rest it for 48 hours and take your anti-inflammatory. And keep the splint on for a week or two as it is only a Grade 1 sprain. Come back if the pain gets any worse or if it seems like the swelling isn’t going down.” The doctor informed as he handed you your discharge paperwork. You nod along before making your way out of the hospital. You’re not excited about going home, the drive here was excruciatingly painful but at least your wrist is splinted. You couldn’t believe how Hyunjin reacted. How could he hurt you like that? The thought of the events earlier in the afternoon made you fee nauseous, how could the guy you loved for the past year choose his crazy ‘best friend’ over you? You had allowed Yerim’s antics to go on for too long based on her friendship with Hyunjin. Pulling into your driveway you’re quite pissed to see Hyunjins car still there. Meaning they were both still here. Your blood boiled as you forced yourself out of your car locking it behind you as you make your way to the door. Before you could enter your code into the pad, the door is forced open. You’re greeted with the sight of a disheveled Hyunjin. Tears streaming down his face, his sobs growing worse and worse with the glare you had directed at him. You roll your eyes as you shove past him, seeing his suitcase that was once under your bed now in the living room right beside the couch a complete lack of Yerims presence lingered. “W-wait! Please…” his whimpers between his sniffles as he wipes his face on his sleeves. “Wait for what Hyunjin? You weren’t supposed to be here when I got back remember? It seems your friend knows how to listen properly but you can’t.” You growl your mouth pulled into a harsh line, as you clenched your jaw. “I-I know but how could I just leave? I tried okay? I tried to listen to you I packed my stuff even though I didn’t want to I just—I couldn’t leave knowing you’re hurt. I couldn’t leave knowing that I may never get to see you again and I know it’s selfish but I have to try to fix this. I didn’t know what Yerim said but if it’s anything like what she tried to do then I’m sorry I never realized. I’m sorry I never knew the things Yerim did to you…b-but I do now! I swear I know the truth now and I’m sorry I should have never pushed you I should have listened to what happened.. a-and I would have probably done worse to Yerim if she said the things to me that she said to you.” He cries as he makes his way over to you stopping right infront of you he tries to caress your cheek. You flinch at his action, and a pout forms on his lips as he hesitantly places his hand back at his side “how’d you find out?” You question your eyes finally meeting his “cause there’s a reason I never told you”
His eyebrows scrunch together “does it matter how I found out? And why? Why would never tell me? How long has she been harassing you with that bullshit because that’s what it is. It’s bullshit! I never once slept with her. I never once told her I loved her, she was my best friend and I saw her like a sister and when she tried to throw herself on me when you had left I just lost my shit and realized what was going on.” He explained with tears streaming down his face. A heavy sigh is released from his lips and his current state is enough to send your heart into the morgue. “Jinnie—She was fucking pissed that I supposedly was choosing you over her but she doesn’t realize how many times you probably feel like I chose her over you. You should have told me but that doesn’t excuse what I did to you and I’m so fucking sorry Y/N. I really am, a-and if you let me I’ll make it up to you. Yerim is gone she’s out of my life she means nothing to me if she could try to ruin something that she knows I’ve dedicated myself to. She knew I wanted to marry you. She came with me to pick the ring for when I proposed but in the end even her attempts didn’t ruin anything. You knew she was bullshitting. In the end, I ruined everything but I will fix it. I’ll make it up to you I want to be with you I love you and I’m so fucking sorry” He cut you off dropping to his knees and holding your good hand in both of his “if you forgive me for this it will never happen again. I’m so sorry that I pushed you. I’m so sorry I let my anger get the better of me because you are right I heard her tell you those things and I heard you defend me and I don’t know I couldn’t think and I got mad. But if it makes you feel any better I pushed her too probably a lot worse than I pushed you and I told her I want nothing to do with her anymore I think she got the message cause she slapped the shit out of me and left” you’re eyes widen at his confession your hand instinctively lifting his face inspecting his cheek seeing the fading red mark. “I’ll fucking kill her she did what?!” You growl “she hit you?” You rush past him grabbing your keys only to be halted by Hyunjin grabbing your hand “it’s fine I deserved it for what I did to you” he comforts, your eyebrows raise “yeah and if anyone deserves to hit you it’d be me not her and I didn’t nor would I want to hit you let alone allow some slut to do the same thing to MY boyfriend. Don’t try to stop me cause I’m going to fuck her up Hyunjin” you notice the way his face lit up “Am I?” You shake your head at him in confusion “are you what?” He bites his lip as he stared at the ground “Am I still your boyfriend? What I did was really really bad…and I don’t feel like I deserve to call myself that anymore since you told me to leave” you look at him feeling a little guilty, whilst you did indeed tell him to pack his shit and leave you are kind of relieved he didn’t listen. While you didn��t enjoy the fact that he pushed you, his loyalty and the love he has for the people around him is what drew you to him in the first place. If Yerim wasn’t such a bitch and didn’t antagonize the issue then this wouldn’t have happened and yes, while he shouldn’t have pushed you he thought he was protecting his childhood friend.
“I’d like to think you still are…I-if you still want to be—more than anything I want to be your boyfriend more than I want to be an idol at this very moment” he cuts you off looking at you with hope. You bite your bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear a sigh of relief release from his throat as he holds you against him as if you’d disappear when he let go. “Thank god….I love you so much I’m so sorry you won’t regret this I promise” he cries as he buries his face in your neck. You smile slightly pulling your head back to look at your sad puppy of a boyfriend pressing your lips against his. He kisses you passionately before you pull away “But if I ever see Yerim it’s on sight. She doesn’t have the right to put her hands on you just for rejecting her. She’s going to get her ass whooped and you won’t be able to stop me…”
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bakugoushotwife · 6 months
Text
kinktober day twenty-two: cunnilingus
>>> idk why i’m only here for yandere rough megumi sjdkfkffkg i mean he isn’t all the way yandere but it’s strongly implied, y’all enjoy!
>>> starring: megumi fushiguro x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: yandere-ish behavior, cunnilingus (f receiving) clearly, doggy, overstimulation, prone bone kinda, creampie, jealous megumi. >>> wc: 2.5k >>> event masterlist.
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it really was his favorite place to be. being between your legs, face buried in your warm, wet and sweet-tasting cunt was so soothing and fulfilling to him he simply could not get enough. he wondered if he had an oral fixation specifically because of your pussy, almost concerned with how much he loves being on his knees wherever whenever just to get a taste of you. at the beginning of your relationship, megumi was a bit…nervous around you. it wasn’t like his mind wasn’t coursing with lewd thoughts about his pretty little curvy angelic goddess of a girlfriend, he just didn’t know how to tell you he craved your cunt on his face like normal men crave water. so yes, he had to come out of his sexual shell so to speak. but it seems this god forsaken get together at gojo’s was going to ease him out of it—and your cunt wouldn’t be his sweet release, it would be his sloppy playtoy by the end of the night.
not to say that megumi wasn’t pleasing you enough already, though, of course. he may be a bit routine about things, but he always took care of you. did you want him to be a little rougher from time to time? sure, but you’ve never been with someone so eager and passionate about eating you out either. that alone was worth his perhaps lack in kinkiness.
though your boyfriend has a bunch of his own ideas including a host of naughty things he wants to do to you as well as the ones spurring from his crippling jealousy. he’s not even quite sure where it comes from, gojo gave him everything he needed out of life and he never felt jealous of other kids growing up despite his unconventional upbringing. but when it came to you, he felt something sinister tug at him. maybe it was because you are so otherworldly beautiful that he can’t help but be on standby, waiting for someone to make a shitty comment about your body or stealing you away. maybe it’s because he knows he’s not doing enough to earn the pleasure of calling you his. but no one else could do any better than him, he knows that for sure.
so why is yuuta trying? he knows full well who you belong to—gojo’s famed favorite former pupil has you pulled aside, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your protective and sensitive boyfriend. it’s been years since you all had gojo-sensei’s class, but megumi still hated that yuuta okkotsu. his dad favored him as his successor over him, and even yuji took to him pretty quickly. those were reasons enough to hold a forever grudge, but watching the older man hold all your attention was driving him to murderous thoughts. having all the former sorcerers in one spot wasn’t a good idea—especially not when megumi had acquired an absolute babe in the time apart from his now young adult friends.
especially not when yuuta had you leaned against the wall, nervously chuckling to whatever he was saying, eyes darting around to look for your boyfriend. megumi was frozen in place, trying to settle the argument between the devil and angel on each shoulder. he could just approach yuuta and explain reasonably that you’re spoken for, and that he should keep it moving. but on the other hand, he thinks he should punch yuuta in the face because everyone knows you’re spoken for and that he’s your man. then he should drag you upstairs and fuck you sore and screaming until every person in attendance was uncomfortable. he can see you get increasingly anxious, so he makes the decision.
“c’mon okkotsu. you know that’s my girl.” you hear the ice drip from his tone. he’s not playing any games, and that’s clear by his unamused scowl and the way he folds his arms over his chest. you’re relieved to see him, smiling softly at the man you’ve always known to be your stoic and calm boyfriend. but the look in his eyes as he slides them over to look at you sends a shiver down your spine. yuuta chuckles nervously, blaming the alcohol and your cute dress for his lack of sense.
megumi growls at that, rearing his hand back to start a real problem. this was practically his house, he didn’t care about any potential repercussions—but your voice comes over him to invoke reason.
“hey hey, point made. he’s gone.” you know it’s true based off the shuffling of yuji and toge getting off the couch to ensure that yuuta and megumi are separated before it can come to blows. you lean into his chest, but his gaze only follows the group of boys as they shift upstairs.
his arms fall around your waist, and he wonders if he actually even heard what you said or if your voice alone was enough to make him hesitate. the rest of the party guests still watch the scene—wondering if it gets better or worse from here. some of them had experienced megumi’s temper before, some knew it was a horrific mix of nurture and nature, both his father and the man who raised him horrifically jealous beasts of nature. and the apple doesn’t fall far.
“go upstairs. find a room.” he snarls, daring anyone in attendance to speak up against him. your cheeks flush at his command. he’s only ever spoken to you with a gentle tone, with patience and understanding and all the warmth a man like himself can convey. but you’ve yearned for this other side—this gruffness in his voice and the unwavering dominance in his eyes. he doesn’t care that everyone’s watching—in fact, he wants them to. you nod eagerly, turning tail to find an unoccupied spare room in gojo’s giant house.
he only loiters behind long enough to let everyone watch you obey him—the prettiest woman in the universe, who could easily have anyone she ever wanted, caters to his every whim and order. he lags behind you just a bit, but you can feel his presence. it’s dark. he’s always been a distant, more guarded man. because of that, he’s always been regarded as cold. but his light never felt daunting until now. he never felt oppressive or controlling or possessive; you don’t have to look over your shoulder to know he’s close. it makes heat lick up your stomach walls and bubble down your legs as you wobble towards a room at the end of the hall that was sure to be vacant. you knock to be sure anyway, but megumi reaches around your waist to open the door anyway. his other hand grips your hip, pushing your forward with the pressure of his pelvis against your ass.
you gasp and stumble into the darkness, giggling a little in excitement as you find the bed. megumi’s fingers find the light switch, and you turn to look at his anger riddled features, something only jealousy could produce.
“yuuta okkotsu, huh?” he asks, pulling his shirt over his head. it messes up the spiky tendrils of his hair, but you don’t notice over the crazed look in his eyes. he’s pale and lean, dips along his slender abdomen indicating the strength hiding beneath. he fiddles with his belt next. “you have a voice. why didn’t you tell him to back off?”
you flush with embarrassment, anxiety rippling at your core to mix with the burning excitement. “i—i was try—“
“i—i” megumi mocked, licking his teeth. he walked closer to you, taking over that tiny little sundress you wore that was no doubt the only layer keeping him or anyone else away from your drooling cunt. it aggravates him. you look this beautiful out in public all the time—and it really didn’t matter if you were in this slutty dress or a goddamn burlap sack, anyone with eyes in their head could tell that you were an angel among mortal men. “you’re too nice for your own good. you almost got his ass kicked because you don’t know how to speak up for yourself.”
you bite your lip, nodding along to his scolding. you know you should apologize to him, but you can’t deny how much it turns you on to see him so angry. especially when he approaches you, pushing your sitting form in to a laying one so he could yank you by the hips to the bottom of the bed. he flips your sundress up, snarling again when he finds you bare—and soaking fucking wet.
“oh i see. you’re cute enough to parade around like this but can’t tell other boys you have a man?” he spits on your pussy, sliding it around your hood and lips with his middle and ring fingers. “i’ll help you find your voice.”
he shoves your thighs apart and keeps them like that, rolling his eyes as you squirm and writhe. it’s only in excitement, though. your hands find his hair to prove it as he dives toward your cunt, lapping at you eagerly. he can’t help but moan at your taste—no matter how many tried only he got to experience this moment, the way you look with his mouth suckling on your clit; brows draw up in ecstasy, lip already swollen and puffy from your teeth repeatedly gnawing into it. he couldn’t help but be obsessed with you, anyone would be—it was clear that pretty much everyone was.
but you remind him of your love when you clutch your thighs around his face, tugging his hair so hard he has no choice but to bury his face deeper, sucking and biting on your clit so roughly you whimper—big hands that always stay cool to the touch paw at the meat of your thighs to let you know just how much he enjoys being one that pleasures you. he needs to hear you scream his name—needs you to let everyone know who it is that’s got you seeing stars and arching off the mattress.
“meg—gonna cum, oh sh—“ your stomach burns, and you lurch and crumple to try to relieve it, but megumi holds you down. he grunts to egg you on, demanding your orgasm to come quicker as he nibbles on the very source of your pleasure, sending colorful orbs flashing across your vision as you wail his name. you’re getting there, but he knows you can get louder.
“don’t hold back now, do better.” he seems agitated as he hooks his arms around your thighs—pulling your cunt to his face without any means of escape. he slides his tongue back in your hole, intense jaded emerald eyes watching your contorted face of deliriousness. you were brainless already, chants of ‘megumi—megumi—megu—meg-megumi!’ roll past your lips as he slides his tongue along your entire slit, nose bumping against your swollen and oversensitive clit so hard he almost feels bad for all his old classmates and friends listening to your guttural cries. almost.
you’re weightless, suspended in space—floating in a river of unending bliss. it’s too much. you’re finally getting what you’ve always asked for and you can’t handle it—and his pants are still on. the only things tying you to the planet are: the feeling of his soft hair clenched tight in between your fingers, the tears stinging at the corners of your eyes from the sheer pressure of his mouth milking your pussy, and his delicious grunts of demand. you can’t deny him, and your hips clearly beg for more as they hump his face to push you towards your second edge in just a few minutes.
he hopes yuuta and all those other motherfuckers that have ever thought about toeing the line get the fucking message—you’re certainly being loud and clear. your vision darkens completely, mouth dropped in a permanent yell of his name. it’s perfect, and megumi lacks the patience to be gentle, for once. he shoves you back, lips glistening with your slick, cheeks red from his hard work and eyes flickering with a cold flame so hot your whole body burns for him.
he shrugs, shoving his pants down and tugging at the hand of his solid black briefs next. “face down, ass up.” you bite your lip in anticipation, rolling to your stomach in the pretty arch he requested. he nods at your obedience, getting up on the bed with you. his cool touch finds your hips at the same time his fat cockhead finds your entrance—and he’s pulling you down on him mercilessly. “don’t you dare quiet yourself. i want them to hear everything.”
his growl affects you almoat as much as his rough strokes, curved pale length stabbing through to your cervix without any breaks in between. megumi cursed under his breath, pulling your arms behind your back to ensure that you struggled to obey him. it was cute watching you turn your face in the covers so he—and everyone else—could hear your animalistic cries. he pins your wrists in one massive trap of his own hand, his other still leveraging a hold on your hip to keep you from escaping his brutal ruts.
it’s no wonder he’s a jealous fucking freak over you at all. your pussy was magical, soaking wet and beaten into the shape of him and him alone—you gripped him like his own personal mold. he couldn’t stomach anyone even thinking about having you in the way he has you right now. it messes with him that he can’t stop that—but maybe your gorgeous curses of his name will be enough to ward off such worries for a while. he fills you so perfectly you could never think about another man anyway—even if he was only soft and gentle and tender with you, a far cry from what he is right now, you’d never stray. but especially with this performance, with your brain jolting around in your head and nothing but fire and ice flooding your senses—you can only scream out your love for him just like he wants.
“that’s what i’m talking about. scream and cum, babe.” he encouraged, letting your hands go so he could yank on your hair. he tugs hard, and it sends electricity shooting down your spine. his voice is so raspy and needy as his cock twitches inside your walls—as unforgiving and tight as they were since you were fluttering close to your release. “i said cum.”
you gasp out, feeling him pinch your clit again, the final push you needed as you reach out for the headboard. he keeps you from crawling away by knocking you flat to the bed, hand sprawled across your back to make you take it. you’re a goner, only able to feel the ridges of his cock abusing your worn hole—scraping against the entrance to your womb from this angle. his speed dies down and warmth floods your cunt, making a dumb little smile spread across your face. he rolls his hips into your ass slower, riding out your high. he’s panting, running a hand through his sweaty hair before he leans over to kiss you. he’s still needy, eagerly finding your mouth and kissing you with a beautiful mix of passion and aggression.
it sinks in then just how rough he’s been with you, and his eyes flash with regret. his lips move to form an apology—but a knock on the door cuts him off.
“hey junior—you done? everyone’s traumatized. great work.” gojo snickers—clearly proud of his boy.
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writersblockedx · 1 year
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Stalker
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Pairing - Marcus Baker x Fem!Reader Summary - Y/n is pushed to confront the boy who can't seem to stop staring at her at school. Warnings - Alcohol & drug use Words - 2K
Masterlist
It had been happening all week. In the middle of talking, doing work or walking down the hallways, Y/n would look up, finding the same pair of eyes trailing her. In the beginning, she must have convinced herself she was imagining it. Marcus Baker wasn't one for wanting to self-illicit anything close to a social interaction. So she ignored it.
Then it started to seem like the boy's eyes were attached to her every move. Y/n had been in the midst of listening to Maxine go on about her most recent date (which hadn't ended well) when she noted the feeling of someone watching. Her back was pressed against the wall, Abby at her side as her gaze found Marcus once again. He didn't look away. His eyes lingered as if he weren't fazed she had caught him.
"Is he doing it again?" Snapped Abby. Her tone wasn't so loud that Marcus could hear from the other side of the hall, but the girl certainly wasn't trying to hide her words.
"Doing what?" Nora joined in.
Y/n lightly shook her head, shifting so she was no longer facing the shaggy-haired boy. "Don't worry about it."
"No." Abby cut in, gaining the attention of more of their friends. "It's getting creepy. If he likes you, he needs to come over and say something." Nora nodded in agreement.
"Can we just leave it?" She requested, but it was never that easy.
"Leave what?" Max questioned, peering over with wiggling eyebrows.
Y/n refused to answer. So Abby did it for her, "Your brother's obsessed with Y/n." The girl glared over at her best friend, wishing she ended this before it hadn't gotten to this point.
Max gave a sharp, mocking gasp, "My brother...and my best friend?" She spoke back to herself. "How scandalous!" Then she relaxed and let out a chuckle. "I mean, I'm surprised you've only just realised his obsession."
Y/n's brows raised at her words, "What?"
Another chuckle left Max's lips. "Oh, yeah." She said. "You should see how jittery he gets when I say Y/n is coming over. It's like he's on crack or something. Think he's too scared to actually talk to you but at the same time, surprised he's kept it in his pants this long."
"So, he just won't stop staring?" Nora inquired.
"Strange way to flirt." Abby added.
"Can we just forget about it?" Y/n asked with a pleasant smile. "I'm sure he'll find some other girl to swoon over."
Max wandered over, throwing an arm around Y/n, looking down at her sympathetically. "You know I love you, which is why I'm telling you, this thing he has for you, isn't something recent."
"It isn't?"
"You really have no idea, do you?" Y/n shook her head. "He's been in love with you for like a year. You're gonna have to let him down lightly. Or don't, he could use a punch to his ego."
Y/n swallowed the lump which had grown in her throat. Still with Max's arm slung around her shoulder, the girl slowly looked back. She located Marcus within a split second. He was still sat in the same place, his eyes still lingering over her and in an act to play off the last five minutes, she flash a small smile. Something which, while it took a moment, was returned to her.
Nothing more happened for the rest of the week. Just glances. Some of which were now prompted by Y/n's eyes as she started staring at him first. Granted, when she did that it was in wonder if he was already looking at her. Which, most times, he was.
Friday rolled around and while Y/n was relieved for the weekend, she couldn't escape the party Max had planned. In celebration of the part she received in the newest play, she begged Ellen to let her host another party in their house. After enough asking, the woman agreed and for another Friday night, a house was littered in cheap fairy lights, illegal substances and dancing teenagers.
"Isn't this so great?" Whined Maxine as she tumbled into her friend. "This was such a good idea."
Y/n wasn't nearly as drunk as half the people around her. "Sure, Max." She replied.
"You know what else is a good idea-"
"No, no, no, Max you know it's not a good idea." The girl was already reaching for her phone, desperate for the urge to message her ex.
Y/n tried to wiggle her fingers between Max's, but it was no use, the message was already being typed. "It's just- it's one message. Its closure, Y/n." She wasn't sure who Max was trying to convince with that.
The girl hummed, still trying to take a grasp of her phone. "And you will kill me in the morning if I don't stop you right now." She said. Her eyes scanned over the room, widening as they spotted Abby and Nora talking to the boys not too far away. "Abby! Nora!" She called across the blaring music.
The two girls glanced over. And all they needed was a glance to realise what was occurring. The pair came rushing over and suddenly, it became a fight for the phone. And for a second, it looked like Max might be winning. "No, no, it's fine." She tried to convince.
Abby wiggled her fingers between Max's cheering as she got grip on the phone and Max's hand slid away. "Finally." The girl huffed. "Would you get her something?" Abby asked Y/n.
Y/n glanced back at Brodie who was smoking the last of what they had. "I don't think that's going to be possible right now." She answered.
"What about Marcus?" Nora suggested, carefully. "He's bound to have some."
Abby looked over to Y/n, her expression silently questioning if she would be okay with that. "And you need me to go?" She checked over once more - just in case the answer changed.
A slurring Max was hanging from Abby and Nora was desperate to spend some quality time with her boyfriend; of course it had to be her. "At least if you go, we'll know we'll definitely get some." Abby shrugged, sending a sympathetic smile.
She sighed but started shifting on her feet anyway, "You both owe me, big time." She said to them, pointing her index finger between the two as she started strolling backwards towards the stairs.
Y/n soon found herself in the upstairs hallways. Many doors. And only one led to Marcus' room. Of course she had been up here many times before, but that only ever really consisted of Max's room. Alas, she wandered through, knocking against the one she believed to be Marcus'. Suppose she got lucky too.
"Yeah?" Called a voice from the other side.
Slowly, the girl pushed the door open, finding the shaggy-haired boy laid lazily across his bed. There laid a sketch book in his grasp as he had one earphone hanging out. "Hi." She forced a polite smile to her lips. "You got any weed on you?" What was the point for small talk anyway? She had a plan: get in, get a joint and get out.
Marcus shifted, sitting up as he threw his earphones to one side. "You came in here to ask for illegal drugs?" He reiterated.
She tensed, "Erm, yeah?"
The boy let out a chuckle before stepping from his bed. "Relax, I'm messing with you." Y/n didn't dare move from the space she took in the room as the boy wandered toward his dresser. He pulled out one of the draws, shifting through his clothes before returning with his two joints between his finger tips. "Rules are though, you smoking my stuff, you smoke it with me."
"It's not for me." She interjected. "It's for your sister." She watched as slowly, a certain speckle faded from his pupils. "I can try and bring her up if you'd want, but she's pretty wasted-"
"No, no, that's alright." His eyes darted to the floor, anywhere which weren't Y/n's eyes. That is, for once, anyway.
An awkward silence followed that Y/n made sure she filled. "She's just a bit, emotional right now. Abby thought it would calm her down." She explained. "She's been going through a lot, you know with the-"
"Break up." He finished for her. "Yeah, trust me, I know." Another pause. Another moment of awkward silence. Marcus passed over one of the joints, "Here."
The girl took without a word. She nodded her head and spun on her feet and headed for the door. She should have walked straight through. She should have tried to forget the very awkward situation she had just experienced. But something seemed to be pulling her back. Maybe it was the curiosity, maybe it was just the alcohol. Probably the latter if she were being honest.
But, she turned, finding Marcus still stood in the same spot. And with a rush of courage, she asked, "Why do you keep me staring at me?" She almost surprised herself more than Marcus when the words slipped from her lips. At first, she had herself second-guessing if she had really just said them.
A moment passed before Marcus responded, "Because I think you're pretty." His tone was matched with a nervous laugh as his gaze met her.
"Then why didn't you just say so?"
He shrugged, "I'm saying something now." The boy took a cautious step closer, uncertain if he was reading this correctly. "And I'm sure Max told you for me, didn't she?"
A smile rose to her lips as she recalled the girl's words from earlier in the week. "Maybe." Y/n uttered.
"If you want me to stop, I'm sorry, I will-" He started to ramble as the thought struck his mind.
But, Y/n cut him off before he could get much further, "It's fine." She cooed with the flash of her smile once more.
He took another step and there seemed little room between them now. "Yeah?" He questioned, so close Y/n could feel the breeze of his breath.
She nodded, trying to hide the way her eyes had flickered to his lips. "Yeah."
They lasted a moment which such little space between them. It was like cat and mouse. Like they were trying to catch each other out. Like a game of chess. But Marcus gave in first. He closed the gap between them, his hand cupping her cheek as their lips met, molding against each other.
When they pulled away, they had the same expression, the same grins plastered across their faces. Their foreheads hovered against each other as Y/n muttered, "I should probably get this to Max."
He nodded as they stepped away and Y/n grasped the joint. "I'll leave this door open." Marcus told her as she slowly started slipping back out into the hallway. "You know, if you just happen to find yourself up here again."
"Sounds like a good plan." She stole once last glance at the boy before turning on her heels and wandering back down stairs.
Marcus was left staring at an empty space, all smitten and drowning in awe.
Y/n tried to hide the grin on her face she returned to the party. The music still blared and Max was still whining. "But I still love her!" The girl went on.
"Oh, thank God!" Exclaimed Abby as Y/n came into sight, jogging over to them and passing the joint over. "I'd ask what took so long, but I don't want to know."
"Were you making out with my brother?" Inquired Max.
Y/n played it off as well as she were able, "No, Max. No lips were touching." She replied, feeling a shiver as she thought back to the kiss.
Max hummed and leaned over, "Oh, yeah? Then why is your lipstick smudged?" And like that, with that bomb dropped, Max lit her joint and pretended as if she had said nothing. All while Y/n flushed pink.
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joelmillers-whore · 8 months
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Hard Light | Chapter 1
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summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be, but that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 
pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader
word count: 2.2K
series or one-shot
warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), joel being a huge tease lol, (will add more tags as i write)
AN: i am so excited by the response that my joel one-shot got a few days ago and i’ve been itching to get something else out to you all. big, giant forehead kisses for those who want one, i love you all. so, anyway, a mini-series about professor joel is coming at you fast. i’ve written the first few chapters, so expect those in the near future. i’m thinking once a week? this fic is going to be something else and i’m so excited to share it with ya’ll. enjoy, and let me know what you think. find my ao3 here for more content and other fandoms.
You were running late for your shift at the coffee shop on campus, rummaging around your dresser, trying to find the low-cut black top you always wore when you had a shift. You weren’t usually one to feed into the peer pressure of those around you, but push came to shove when you found it nearly impossible to keep yourself afloat as a twenty-something student without the added extra tips from your part-time job.
So what if you had to show a little bit of cleavage? Right? There was no harm. Student loans were a bitch and on top of rent and food costs, you had to get a job at the coffee shop and balance a full course load just to make ends meet. 
A thought popped into your head and you rushed to your laptop, throwing it open as you checked the time; 5:45 AM. If you busted out your lightning-fast typing skills, you would have enough time to catch the next bus and make it to campus with five minutes to spare. If only your crappy second-hand computer would work.
The thing honestly sounded like a chopper engine, getting ready for lift-off. You were surprised you’d gotten this far with it. Not that you weren’t appreciative, your older brother had passed it down and it had relieved a huge weight—  and expense off of your shoulders. 
You tabbed into your school portal, typing in your credentials and selecting your English course. You sighed heavily, as you skimmed over the assignment for this week, something to do with a sonnet that you couldn’t care less about. You loved school but ever since becoming an English major, the spark that you once had for literature sort of just evaporated.
You couldn’t tell if it was because of how busy you were with everything else that you just couldn’t find the time to enjoy it, or the thought that really scared you, you had fallen out of love with it. 
It had been two years of go, go, go and you were, for lack of a better word, burnt out. You’d tried dropping courses last semester, thinking that you just needed a little bit of ease when it came to your course load, but when that didn’t solve the problem and only made things worse for you, you spent the last two semesters trying to catch up and get yourself to a place where you could finally breathe.
But it wasn’t easy. You were only now caught up to where you had been, the illusion that you were someone who could afford to take time off and slow down was a distant memory. 
In bold letters, the words Paid Internship jumped off of the screen. You smiled as you leaned in closer to the screen, making sure you read through everything correctly. This was the break above the surface that you needed, the reprieve that you had been chasing. A paid internship was exactly how you’d be able to make more money and maybe have a little breathing room before you worked yourself into an early grave.
You clicked the mail icon at the top and clicked into a new email, deciding that the worst-case scenario was that you wouldn’t get the internship. All you were doing was inquiring about the application process. Best-case scenario; you’d get it and make some extra pocket money. 
You saw the time, cursing under your breath as you slammed the laptop closed, grabbed your phone out of the charger and ran out of the door. You couldn’t be late, not again. You texted your co-worker Jeremy to open the shop without you and explained to him that you were running a few minutes late, as you barely made it to the bus. You climbed on board, scanned your student pass and found a seat near the back. Your chest was burning from the rush of trying to make it on time, but you could breathe easy now.
You checked your messages mindlessly, scrolling through a bunch of unread ones that you didn’t have the heart to answer. 
Before you knew it, the familiar monuments and buildings of UT Austin came into view, and the subtle change of scenery from downtown to a more densely packed area made your heart skip a beat. It was the same each time you were back on campus. Which, these days, was often. Sliding out of the seat, you made your way to the front, thanking the driver as the bus came to a complete stop. 
The coffee shop was only a short walk from the bus stop but even still you quickened your pace. You didn't want to leave Jeremy alone for long, you already felt bad enough about letting him open by himself. You stifled a yawn as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, leaning your body into the door, slightly cringing at the shrill sound of the bell. 
"There you are", a male voice called, making your head snap up. You wiggled your nose, the familiar timbre of your ex-boyfriend's voice ringing in your ears. "It's about time you got your ass down here". 
You snickered, shrugging your heavy bag off of your shoulder, and dropping it behind the counter, turning around and greeting him with an unamused smirk.
Jeremy and you had gone out for a few months last year, it was your first and, as of right now, the only short-term relationship that you'd had in college. 
Dating your co-worker, even in a relatively small place like the coffee shop on campus, almost always spelled trouble, but Jeremy was not the type to hold something like a failed relationship over your head. He understood that school was a priority for you and making a living for yourself came first, even above something like a relationship. It might not be the healthiest way to live, but it was how it always was. 
Jeremy and you had developed a fast friendship, one that went beyond the romantic relationship that you'd had last year. You parted amicably and now, you had someone you could confide in, someone you could trust. 
"Why don't you say that to my face?", you teased, raising a brow at him over the milk frother you were setting up. 
Jeremy threw his rag down and stalked over to you. "You're snippy this morning", he chided. 
You banged into his shoulder playfully, "Doesn't help that I have to see your ugly mug first thing in the morning". 
You snorted out a laugh and Jeremy looked at you, feigning defensiveness, "Ouch", he paused, returning back to his post near the coffee machine, "Remind me how we ever went out?". 
You scrunched your nose and threw your rag at Jeremy, hitting him square in the face with it, "That was rude". 
He shrugged his shoulder, "You started it".  
You both devolved into a fit of giggles and fell into a comfortable silence, setting up and getting the coffee shop ready for the day. You had a half-day shift to look forward to and then you had class until the late afternoon. The days were long and the nights were longer.
You usually found yourself nose-deep in your textbooks, more often than not, or some classic novel that was required for class, not moving from the couch until your eyes were red and you were seeing double. 
Only then did you retire to sleep, crashing hard until you had to wake up and do it all again the next day. 
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The coffee shop had been bustling with people since six in the morning, and at one in the afternoon, it hadn't let up, only now you had to go to class. Waving Jeremy goodbye, you sidestepped Tara, the fourth-year who was covering the rest of the afternoon and closing shift. 
You'd crossed the far side of campus, passing by the science building and one of the massive libraries that had acted like a second home to you back when you’d been studying for exams when you were a freshman. You could thank your obnoxious roommates for that one. 
Entering the lecture hall, bodies pressed into you as you weaved through the growing crowd, trying to find a spot in the middle where you could see and hear your English professor. But also blend in with the masses. As if the universe had other plans in mind, and everyone suddenly showed up to the Tuesday lecture all at the same time, you found yourself picking a seat near the front, an exasperated groan leaving you. 
You hated sitting at the front, not because you didn't want to get called on to answer something or because you didn't know the answers, but because you did. You wanted to get through your four years as quickly and unscathed as possible and if people knew, mainly professors, that you knew more about the subject matter than you needed to, you'd surely get called on more often, making you stick out in ways you didn't want. 
It was a terrible curse, going through life with the self-esteem that you did. But it was how you were raised. Blend in. Don't be too loud. Be quiet and only observe. Nerves rapped at your insides when you thought about getting called on when class started. Your heart rate ticked up and you found that your hands were beginning to get clammy, your throat constricting with each breath.
You rubbed your hands up and down your thighs, grounding yourself with the sensation of the material. 
With a jump, you sat up straighter in your seat, being jostled from your thoughts by a loud slam. You snapped your head toward the entrance, eying the person who had startled everyone. It was a man carrying a briefcase.
Your lips tilted up at the edges, amusement tickling you when you thought of anyone using a briefcase nowadays. But here this man was, head down as he made his way to the front of the room, toward the desk. 
You couldn't help keeping your eyes trained on him. On how his slacks tightened around his butt, moulding to the shape and curve of it. You bit your bottom lip out of reflex, your eyes dragging down the length of the mystery man who had crashed your lecture. Maybe he was a TA? Your brows furrowed when you thought about how your professor was nowhere in sight. 
The man with the briefcase placed his case on the desk, turning to face the audience of students who blinked back at him, who now settled down enough to hear him speak. Air caught in your throat when his eyes flicked momentarily to you, and lingered on you for half a second longer than you'd expected. He had massive, warm brown eyes, and soft wrinkles that danced at the edges of his eyes when he smiled, making him seem more boyish than he appeared.
He looked older than a TA would but then again, who were you to judge someone's position in life? You thought that his age did nothing to undermine just how attractive he was, if anything it added to it.  
The man, who may or may not have been moonlighting as your English TA cleared his throat, nodding his head, "My name is Joel, well, Professor Miller to most, but 've always been a little bit more informal than my peers". 
He began to circle the wooden desk nervously, his large hand finding the edge of it and stroking it far more sensually than necessary. You flexed your fingers, gripping the arm of your seat to stabilize yourself. "So, you can call me Joel from here on out... since we'll be seeing more of each other from now on". 
Murmurs began to break out around the lecture hall, and confused and hushed whispers followed. 
Professor Miller— Joel, mumbled something incoherent, and you were unable to hear it from where you sat. He cleared his throat again, "Professor McCarthy has taken a leave of absence, so I'll be filling in for him for the remainder of the semester". 
You crossed your legs, feeling heat rise and a furious blush break out across your face, and shuffled in your seat, a loud creak emitted from it and you stilled, praying that the loud sound had only been heard by you and no one else. But when you lifted your gaze, Joel's eyes were already locked on you, blown and brimming with cautious inquiry. A touch of a smirk graced his lips. 
"And I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you, personally". His eyes were still on you, not ready to release you from their hold. 
His tongue darted out to wet his lips and you couldn't help but stare. You had every reason to look away from him, he was your professor and given the clear age difference, he was someone who was off limits. But when he didn't look away from you either, trapping you with his gaze, your face heated up, suddenly aware that he was purposely staring at you. 
You swallowed thickly, heart hammering as Joel's eyes finally drifted away from you and back to the faces of your classmates. He continued on with addressing the class, and you noticed that he avoided your eyes for the rest of the lecture. 
Only one thought rang through your mind as you tried and failed to focus back on the lecture. This was going to be one long semester. 
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erisenyo · 4 months
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“Oh fuck oh FUCK” + Zukka please!
For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (And this one too lol)
Zuko isn’t sure what posses him to actually say yes when the last hotel calls back to regretfully confirm that there will be no vacancies tonight and the cute mechanic lets up the truly over-the-top flirting to half-shyly offer Zuko a place to stay that night—
“Well, not my house,” Sokka—not Hakoda, going by the wince when Zuko had called him that, even though that’s what’s embroidered over his pocket—says, tugging on his wolf tail, “It’s my dad’s house. But he’s away!” Sokka says, excited and quickly tacking on when he seems to hear himself, “He’s helping out my Gran Gran! So I’m house-sitting! And keeping this place going—”
He waves a hand around the auto shop, making Zuko intensely curious about what Sokka does if not this all the time. He looks good in those overalls...
Not that Zuko has the chance to ask.
“—and so don’t worry, there’s plenty of space. I’m not suggesting you stay in my room—or, well, actually it is my room, but from when I was a kid, not you know, my room. I don’t live there anymore—”
Zuko wonders where he does live, if it’s close to the band’s recording studio, or any of their homes, and Ty Lee is always renting apartments all over the place maybe Zuko could—
“—but it’s still a totally good room still, like quiet but not creepily so, you know? And you can stay there. Or not! Absolutely no pressure, like obviously if you want to keep calling hotels or I mean I guess we could make up the couch in the office, though I wouldn’t recommend it," Sokka adds, frowning at the couch in question. "You end up with this really weird crick in your—”
“Yes,” Zuko interrupts, "Yes, a place to say would be great," he says, putting Sokka out of his misery. Even though he’s been enjoying the rambling train of Sokka’s thoughts all day, and he really shouldn’t impose, and Zuko might feel comfortable after so many hours of Sokka trying to figure out Zuko’s car but he doesn’t actually know the guy, and—
Sokka breaks into a grin, wide and pleased and clearly delighted and Zuko’s stomach flips the way it’s been doing all day and right. Right. That. That’s why Zuko said yes, even though he knows it’s stupid, even though it would be easier to just ask for the guy’s number even if as a rule Zuko doesn’t give out his own. Even though Mai would take one look at Sokka and give Zuko one of those knowing looks of hers and he hates being so predictable but shit, this guy is such his type.
Which means he’s not disappointed when Sokka says, “Awesome, dude! We can grab burritos on the way back!”
Dude.
And burritos.
But Zuko’s not disappointed, he’s not. He’s…relieved. To have a place to stay tonight that’s not a dubious-looking couch, or the back of his own barely-fits-two-people car. And to not be recognized—not that he ever is—because the last thing he needs on top of his car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, meaning he’s absolutely going to miss his flight—shit, Uncle is going to be so disappointed…—is to be dealing with fans.
Pestering him for info about the rest of the Dangerous Ladies, or trying to sniff out rumors about the relationships they’re all convinced are happening within the band, or hating him for breaking Mai’s heart as if it wasn’t mutual and years ago anyway. and they’re still in the band so clearly it’s fine, Mai didn’t even write that song, and—
And it’s fine. Zuko doesn’t even know what he was worried about in the first place. For someone with a massive facial scar, he's proven shockingly unrecognizable without a flaming guitar in his hands. Which is fine. Exactly how he likes it.
So what if he almost never gets his own posters of magazine covers? So what if he's tucked off to the side or in the back of all the official merch and the band has a running collection of all the albums and magazine covers and t-shirts that inexplicably end up with a price sticker over his and only his face?
It’s better than getting mobbed every time he leaves the house like Azula and getting pelted with rumors like Ty Lee and having his every expression scrutinized like Mai. It's better than having every outfit analyzed and every tilt of his head breathlessly redescribed and every photo and appearance and sighting on the street turned into screenshots and phone backgrounds and gif sets and spank bank material, better than everyone he meets tripping to fall into his bed and—
Really. It’s better.
“Here it is, the humble abode!” Sokka gives Zuko an uncertain flash of a smile as holds open the door, like he thinks someone who drives a Porsche so tricked out Sokka had had to psych himself up to actually touch it is going to judge a well-loved ranch house, which…well. Maybe isn’t such a bad assumption.
Zuko hastily makes sure his expression is set into something attentive and interested, his June is talking face, as Azula calls it.
“You’ve got your kitchen here,” Sokka says, flicking on a light to show the worn, comfortable-looking space. “Glasses are over the sink, snacks are in the fridge and in the tall cabinet if you need anything. There’s some leftovers in the freezer you can reheat, too, if you want. Oven, microwave, all the good stuff, you just, you know. Hit the buttons, and—”
And Sokka is clearly back to nervous rambling, because Zuko doesn’t think he’s going to need to eat for the rest of the week after finishing that burrito. A fucking burrito. Ugh, if there’s ever a less sexy food, and then to eat so much of it nervously pacing Sokka that Zuko actually contemplated whether he could subtly unbutton his jeans in the car…
“…and the bedrooms are this way, and the bathroom—it’s shared, sorry,” Sokka adds, glancing back to give Zuko an apologetic look. Zuko hastily jerks his eyes up off Sokka’s ass. “Probably not what you’re used to, I know. But it’s just you and me, so it won’t be too bad!”
“It’s perfect,” Zuko says, trying for a smile and blinking when Sokka just coughs, a blush staining his cheeks as he quickly gets back to his tour.
“Extra blankets and stuff are here,” Sokka says, rapping on a closed door. “Towels, pillows, the works. There should be some extra shampoo and soap and stuff in there too, if you need it.”
“Sounds like you have everything covered,” Zuko says, hearing the awkward edge of his words but still trying to reach for some of the joking, playful easiness of earlier today. “Quite the full-service auto shop you’re running.”
“Uh…yeah.” Sokka freezes a little, eyes wide, which…great. Zuko isn’t surprised he missed the mark, but still. He thought he’s at least better these days than when Azula firmly told him he was no longer allowed to speak in interviews until he could be sure he wasn’t going to end up in another bloopers reel.
“Anyway!” Sokka finally says, shaking himself, his voice coming out suddenly squeaky, which— “Here’s your room, have a good night, make yourself comfy I’ll seeyoutomorrow!”
Zuko blinks again, nonplussed. Did Sokka just...run away? In his own home?
"That's that then," Zuko sighs ruefully—the flirting had been so outrageous that Zuko couldn’t quite believe it was actually real, so—giving the closed door Sokka had disappeared behind one last look before slipping into his room.
Which is very much a teenager’s room, holy—Zuko nearly laughs as he realizes why Sokka was so quick to make that clear. And a well-lived in one, at that, LEGOs on the shelves and cheap trophies for science fairs lined up across the dresser, half-faded posters and clipped-out pictures tacked over the walls and old art supplies still scattered over the desk.
It's cluttered and eclectic and...cute. Cute in the same way Sokka is cute, and he’d probably hate being called that which just makes Zuko want to do it even more, Zuko’s lips curled again into the little smile he feels like he's been wearing all day as he sprawls back on the neatly-made twin bed and immediately makes eye contact with himself.
On the ceiling.
Shirtless.
Life-sized.
Zuko’s mind immediately supplies the details—that Rolling Stones cover shoot for their third album, right before Zuko had turned twenty, when he was still somehow managing to keep up his martial arts training because who needed sleep, definitely not him. He and Ty Lee had been goofing off while Mai and Azula got their makeup finished, flexing their muscles and trying to out-flexible each other and the photographer had loved it and had them run with it, who could pose the most creatively with the most outrageously flexed muscles and —
Zuko slowly closes his mouth and rapidly reconsiders that whole ‘not recognized’ thing...
--
Sokka is giving his teeth the most thorough, most frustrated brush of his life—ugh, burritos. Why did he suggest burritos—when he nearly chokes on his toothpaste as he suddenly realizes that he just put Zuko Hua in his— “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.”
Oh…fuck.
Katara is never going to let him live this down.
He is so, so fucked.
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tinkerleaf · 1 month
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Once Again
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Hi guys! :) This wasn't exactly how I meant for it to turn out, but I don't hate it. In my head it makes sense. Synopsis: chuuya sees reader for the first time since they left the mafia. gn reader Genre: a lil bit of angst Words: 720 Pairing: chuuya/reader Warnings: emotions, some violence/toxicity? not well-proofread
✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧
In the Port Mafia, documents do not lie. If they have something on file, it must be absolute. This is what concerns Chuuya the most when he sees your name come up in recent files. You’re titled under the Armed Detective Agency, and he can’t help but groan.
It had been about a year since you disappeared without a trace, and Chuuya knew that Dazai had to have something to do with it. Instead of dwelling on the thought, he simply pushed it into the back of his mind, only for it to return in the dead of night. He doesn’t always think about you, but he definitely does. And when he does, he has to do something to distract himself from the fact that you are gone from existence.
When he picks up your file, he almost throws it out. He doesn’t want to go through another episode where he frantically searches for you again, as it’s bad for his image. However, he wants the closure of knowing that you’re at least alive. Opening the folder, he winces at your photo. He's thankful he's alone in his office where no one can see him be so vulnerable.
Dazai was still nowhere to be seen, and he was fine with that. He wanted nothing more than to rip him to shreds for everything he’d done. Everything had changed due to his absence.
Your status was labeled as “alive”. He stares at the lines for a few minutes before letting go of the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.
Knowing you were safe slightly relieves him, but the fact that you joined the enemy pisses him off. What business could you possibly have with them? He knew it wasn’t because they were somehow better or stronger. But just like the other pesky thoughts that haunt him, he pushes them away.
-
Three years later, your file comes up again. This time, however, with Dazai’s. The reason is that Kyouka captured both of you, even though Dazai was the main target. However, having both traitors couldn’t hurt.
He hated using that term for you, but that’s what you were.
When he passes Akutagawa in the corridor, they have a brief conversation about the situation. “Did they say anything useful?” Chuuya asks the man.
“Of course not. They’re just as infuriating as they were before.” He walks away, his steps echoing through the hall.
He knew what he was walking into, but that doesn’t change how he feels when you make eye contact with him. Dazai gives his usual sly grin that annoys him to no end.
“So this is where you’ve been all this time?” Chuuya scoffed.
You really don't know how to approach this scenario. You can cut the tension with a butter knife. You don't want to answer him. Dazai decides it's a good time to provide some input, which the redhead simply ignores.
A glass shatters against the wall beside you. It doesn't hit you, but it's enough to get his point across. “Don’t ignore me like you had nothing to do with me!”
You swallowed hard. He crept towards you like a snake. Dazai glanced over at you to see if you had been hit. “Come on, Chuuya, go easy on-.”
“I’ll get to you when I’m done,” he growled at him. He grabbed you by the face and forced you to look him in the eyes. “I hate you.” He lies. It's the biggest lie he’s ever told. But in a way, there is some truth behind it. He hates the way you possess his mind. He hates how you had enraptured him all those years ago just to drag him down to hell when you left. He hates you for letting his guard down, something he vowed to never do again.
The look in your eye and the single tear that slipped through it seemed to tell him everything you needed him to know. He let go of you and sighed.
In the end, you can’t change the past. You can’t change your mission or motives. Whatever caused you to leave him wasn’t his business, and he knew that. He couldn’t forgive you, not yet. But now that he has you within his grasp, he won’t let you go again. Not that easily.
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xetswan · 9 months
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Youngest Shadow- First Day
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One | two | three | four | five | six |
“You two good to go on your own?” Charlie questions us as we’re almost out of the door. “I’m not showing up in a cop car on my first day.” I straight up say causing the two to snicker.
“Yeah I agree with [Name] here.” She shrugs and we go outside. I tug my helmet on, purposefully forgetting my jacket in the house. Lugging myself over my bike I tiredly turn it on.
I wait for Bella to get her truck started and I drive behind her.
Getting to the school with her loud truck and my motorcycles rev going, heads turn our way. I park right by her and I take my helmet off, throwing it into her truck bed. I go up beside her once she was out of the vehicle. All eyes were on us and I knew Bella was mortified.
She still has her earbuds in, listening to music even though that wouldn’t help her anxiety that she’s experiencing right now.
A few people said hi to us, the majority talking about us. It was annoying to put it simply.
I saw this kid with glasses come up to us, he tried speaking to me as well but I walked away leaving him to flirt with only Bella.
Of course I have to deal with something more agitating.
“You’re one of the new sisters, right?” A girl with some ponytail questions me. I raise an eyebrow at her. “What? I’ve literally been going to schools here since we were little. Wow.” I act offended, watching her eyes widen and I start laughing.
“My names [Name]. I’m the younger sister.” I tell her, her shoulders fall and she forces out a laugh too. “I’m Jessica,” reaching a hand out. I guess I can try to be more friendly.
I take her hand, “nice to meet you.” I smile, “do you guys have a good Volleyball team? Softball team?” I take my hand back once I ask the question.
“Volleyball team, yes. Softball, I guess. I don’t really pay attention. I’m the captain of the volleyball team.” She proudly states and I smirk.
“When’s tryouts? Next year.” I ask,
“Oh due to something that happened earlier in the year we’re doing it now. Last day to tryout is today.” She explains.
“I guess I’ll see you there?”
“Well there’s so many forms you have to fill out, it’s unfortunate but you always have next year.” She seems to be intimidated and I didn’t even tell her about the fact I was the captain in Arizona. And that I have scholarships already for colleges who want me to play for them.
“I already have the forms, doctor wise. And I’m sure my dad wouldn’t mind signing anything.” I wink, walking ahead of her to find a seat in our classroom.
I wish I could’ve seen her face after that.
Oh well.
Day 14 after my first day, I was on the Volleyball team. Co-Captain. Something Jessica was secretly but not secretly upset about.
Practically yelling it into the universe without realizing it.
Luckily out of everything I have a class with my sister, unfortunate to her it was P.E. And believe it or not we’re playing Volleyball and Basketball. Bella was treating the Volleyball as if it was poison or something that could kill her.
“Block it Chloe! Good attack!” There’s Jessica, of course I have two classes with her. She’s treating this game as if it was a real one. In reality no body could give a rats ass about any of this. It’s just so they don’t get a bad grade.
I wasn’t putting in my all, kind of standing next to my sister, hitting it for her whenever it came our way. This time I wasn’t so lucky and the ball came flying toward her. I tried to get it beforehand but I ended up bumping into her causing the ball to go right for one of the basketball players head.
I cover my mouth trying my best not to laugh, failing. My sister gasps, both of us run over to him.
“Ow,” he rubs the back of his head.
“Are you alright? I warned them not to let me play.” She tells him in an embarrassed tone.
“It’s only a flesh wound.” He grins, pretty sure he doesn’t realize I’m there too. She physically looks relieved she didn’t do much damage.
The bell rings announcing class is over.
“You’re Isabella right?” He asks before she gets the chance to walk away. “Just Bella.” She corrects him.
“And you’re her sister, um..”
“[Name].” I tell him in a dry tone. Clearly not as welcoming as my beautiful sister beside me.
“I’m Mike Newton.” He goes back to staring at my sister like she’s a statue in a museum.
Right as I go to leave, because clearly I’m not in this conversation, Jessica puts her arm over my shoulder. Dragging me to be in between Mike and my sister once again.
“She’s got a great spike, doesn’t she? Almost better than her co-captain of a sister.” She jokes and we all kinda force out a chuckle. I get second hand embarrassment from her try to jabs at me for becoming the co-captain and not taking her spot.
“So, you guys are from Arizona right? Aren’t people supposed to be tan down there?” She takes her hit at Bella. I went to step closer to her, going to say something back but Bella spoke before I could get a word out.
“That’s why they kicked me out. And she just couldn’t let me leave without her.”
Mike laughs, and Jessica looks at him from the corner of her eye, forcing herself to do the same.
I feel my sister tense up from the attention so I finally get us out of the situation. By just straight up walking away and dragging her with me. That didn’t do too much because they ended up following us after we left the changing room. All the way to the cafeteria.
Normally we would go to Bella’s truck to eat, but due to being followed Bella thought we could join them. Make some friends I’m guessing.
Eric from earlier this morning sat between Bella and Mike. “Mike you met my home girl and her badass sister?”
That’s the nickname I get? I was trying to get away from him away not seem cool to him.
“Your home girl?”
“It’s first grade all over again and you two are the shiny new toys.” Jessica tells us, Bella smiles awkwardly and I press my lips tightly together.
Suddenly a flash goes off, blinding my sister and I. We look up at the photographer. “Sorry, needed a candid for the feature.” The girl sweetly smiles.
She wore glasses, brunette hair pulled into a low ponytail.
“Features dead, Angela. Don’t bring it up again.”
I make a face at Eric who just said that. No reason to be mean to the girl.
“I got your back, baby. You too sweetheart.” He winks in my direction making me gag internally.
“Guess we’ll just run another editorial on teen drinking.” She says clearly disappointed.
“Sorry. There’s always eating disorders or Speedo padding on the swim team.” My sister says and I choke on my saliva after trying to stop myself from laughing. “Wait that’s a good one.” Angela says obviously not getting that it was kind of a joke.
Then the doors open to the cafeteria. Everyone’s attention going to these gorgeous people who look older than I guess they are.
Two girls and two guys walk through together. “Who are they?” Bella leans to the two girls at our table.
I watched the couple behind the first one that walked through the doors. A tinier girl with short hair, her boyfriend with honey-blond hair who’s taller. My eyes met with the girl but I didn’t look away. She smiles a tiny bit.
They sat down at the table that’s furthest from everyone else’s.
“The Cullen’s.” Angela says, Jessica leans in towards us even more.
“Doctor and Mrs. Cullens foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska two years ago.” Jessica gossips.
“They kinda keep to themselves.” Angela adds in.
“Because they’re all together. Like together together. The blonde girl, Rosalie. The big dark haired guy, Emmett.” Bella was paying attention like her life depended on it. Rosalie looked exactly like a model. Her man looking like a pro wrestler, less serious than his girl.
“They’re a thing, I’m not even sure that’s legal.” Jessica judges them but of course she still finds them attractive.
“Jess, they’re not related.” Angela stands up for them even though I’m sure they could careless what Jessica thinks of them.
“But they live together.” She rebutted before continuing on.
“The little dark-haired girl is Alice. She’s really weird.” Alice was a part of the couple I was staring at. She seemed light on her feet too.
“She’s with Jasper, the blonde who looks like he’s in pain. I mean, Dr.Cullens like the foster dad slash match maker.” Jessica slightly jokes towards the end. I will admit the situation is a little weird but we don’t know their story. She shouldn’t be so quick to judge.
“Maybe he’ll adopt me.” Angela sighs, Bella and I laugh. I like her. Then the door swings open again, the last Cullen with no foster match beside him.
I guess he looks like a model too.
“Who’s he?” Bella seemed intrigued, not taking her eyes off of him. “Edward Cullen.” Suddenly he looks over as if he heard his name from so far away. His eyes met with my sisters.
He seems confused and Bella looks away but I stare him down trying to get a read off of him. “He’s totally gorgeous, obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care.”
She obviously cared.
I watched the boy hide a smirk and I raised an eyebrow. We made eye contact and I don’t waver down.
“Anyway don’t waste your time.” She tells Bella.
His face was like a rock. Barely any emotion showed.
Weird.
I finally looked away. “I wasn’t planning on it.” Bella says but she takes a peek at Edward who was now out right staring. His expression seemed frustrated. I watched her become unnerved, now hiding behind her hair.
I roll my eyes at the whole situation, the lunch bell finally rang and I separated from the group. Angela was kind of behind me. Like she wanted to say something but was too scared. I took a deep breath. At least this wasn’t Jessica.
“Hey.” I smiled, slowing myself down to look at her. She jumps a tiny bit. “Oh, hey.” She smiles in return. “What’s your next class?” I asked, she seemed shocked that I was talking to her. Again Bella’s more welcoming than I am. So this is understandable.
Bella has that resting sad face, the one that makes people gravitate towards her, make sure she’s okay. As for I have a resting angry face. My eyebrows downturned, also it seems like these people have problems with piercings for some reason.
“Uhm, Algebra 2. You?”
“Oh same, twins.” I add little jazz hands making her warm up to me a little more.
“Aren’t you a sophomore though?” She quizzes, trying to remember if she was correct.
“I’m a Junior. I skipped a grade or so. When I was younger I needed to be with Bella for everything.” I laughed at the memory of little me, taking tests to be in classes with my older sister.
She chuckles too, “that’s cute.” She says, both of us entering our classroom. “There’s an empty seat next to me, c’mon.” She lead the way.
The class was basically just taking notes.
At the end of the day, I go straight to my bike, grabbing my helmet from Bella’s truck bed. I didn’t notice two specific states as I put my helmet on, getting on the bike.
I then watch Bella get to her truck, visibly upset about something as she slams the door shut after getting in.
I wonder what that’s about.
I already told Charlie I was going to the Reservation to see Jacob and the other guys. Charlie and Bella are gonna go out to eat together at his favorite coffee shop. Once getting there, Jacob comes out with Quil.
“[Name]!” They both shout, sprinting my way we aim kicking down the kick stand then taking off my helmet.
“Nice hair.” Quil teases and I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I left my brush at home today.” I frown giving them both hugs. “Where’s Bella?” Jacob looks around and I place a hand on my heart. “You too?”
“Am I not good enough anymore?” I pretend to be sad, I nudge Quil, Jacob furrows his brows confused by what I mean.
“Everyone at school is enchanted by Bella.” I inform him, we start walking. “I’m not hurt by it. But it’s super noticeable being next to her.” I laugh mainly to myself because I’m sure they wouldn’t find it funny.
“Well we notice you.” Quil pushes me. Jacob doing the same thing.
“I’m glad I have you Quil because Jacob totally still has a puppy crush on my sister.” I make fake kisses towards him, Quil roars into laughter, Jacobs face warming up in response.
Everyone knew about it, seemingly except my sister. It was no secret.
“That’s when I was like 9. Can’t we move past that?” He whines, but he was partially serious. I sat there quietly for a moment. “No.” I giggle with the other boy next to me as Jake was offended.
“So when’s your next game? Can we go, see you in action?” Quil questions me, he was excited to ask though he definitely just wanted to see the hot girls on the team. I smile, shrugging.
“We have one in two days. You guys are welcome to come. I know Charlie wants to bring Billy.” I nudge Jacob. “Well I’d be happy to come with them.” He says.
“I’ll write my schedule down for you guys. Billy can talk to my dad to see what’s best.” I try to hide my excitement from them. My mom usually forgot about my games from how much she runs around. Either being 30 minutes late or not coming at all. She always felt guilty once she realized. Apologizing over and over, ending in her getting my ice cream or some weird craft she made.
Dad always called me before and after my games. Even watching the tournaments on YouTube that our school put on.
I’m a middle blocker, normally doing the spikes, or obviously blocks. My serves were also known for being powerful.
“We’ll be there for every single one.” Quil tells me and I grin.
“I’ll count on it then:” I smirk.
“Want to put your talent to the beach? Everyone’s down there.” Jacob asks.
“Hell yeah, I’ll even race you fuckers to the car.” I laugh, all three of us racing to the vehicle that Jacob ends up driving.
Chapter two😚
Edited🤟
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pixydustworld · 1 year
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The clock above the fireplace read 11:35pm. 25 minutes until midnight. They had exactly 25 minutes to consummate their marriage.
Hermione wondered how the ministry would know if her shiny new husband didn't come inside her.
She drank more champagne.
“It doesn't have to be painful.” Malfoy said, staring above her head at the wall, seeming eager to over analyze the wallpaper, “There are ways for it to be.” He took a deep breath. “Enjoyable.”
“I’ve had sex before.” Hermione said.
“You have?” His voice was a touch surprised.
Hermione narrowed her eyes.
“Loads of times.” Hermione scoffed (three times, to be specific, and it had been almost a year since the last time) “I’m an expert.”
Malfoy had the audacity to look relieved. “Good.” He said, “I’m glad you’ve had pleasurable experiences. When — when, we, consummate — ”
“Fuck.” Hermione said at the same time as him.
“— fuck,” Malfoy practically hissed, “Just. Just think of them.”
Hermione nodded. “Right.” She said, “Sure.” He was staring at her. Waiting for something; her permission, perhaps. “You can think about other people, too.”
The first time she’d had sex, Harry had been soft, if not a little too gentle. In the tent, surrounded by darkness and the ever present promise of death, their fumbling hands had met. It hadn’t been painful, but it hadn’t been overly pleasant, either. It just had been them.
The second time she’d had sex, Ron had been eager to please her, but it had felt off. Like a sneeze that wouldn’t come, like an itch just below her reach — overall, it had been unremarkable and unfortunately for her and Ron’s budding romance, a little unsettling.
The third, and subsequently final time, Hermione had decided that she needed to stop having sex with immediate members of her very small friend group, and Seamus Finnigan had been happy to oblige her.
In the middle, he’d gotten a leg cramp and accidentally headbutted her.
She’d gotten a bloody nose, and Seamus still wasn’t able to make eye contact with her without cringing.
Then, the marriage law had been announced, and Hermione had been too swept up in writing motions and testifying in court to worry about the elusiveness of her own sex life.
“Did you ever think you’d get married?” Hermione asked to rupture the silence that had stretched on for a bit too long. It seemed like a fitting question to ask, given their predicament. “I was never sure.”
Malfoy smiled and Hermione felt her stomach twist. This would all be much easier if he wasn't so handsome. “It was never my choice.” He said, “I always knew I’d marry someone my father chose for me. Perhaps that’s why I accepted all this — the lack of choice, that is something I’m familiar with.”
“You, however, fought to the bitter end.” He continued, “very valiantly, I might add. As is your nature.”
“It didn't work.” Hermione said softly. Admitting defeat to Draco Malfoy never seemed possible before — but now? It felt almost inescapable, the partnership that was materializing between them. Like the golden thread of fate was tightening around their wrists.
“You’ll figure out a way to make them suffer.”
“Not my nature,” Hermione said, finishing her glass of champagne, “That’s yours.”
The clock read 11:40pm. It seemed they could no longer avoid fate.
“If we don’t consummate,” Malfoy was saying, voice sounding far away, “And the punishment is a fine, I can pay it. I won’t pretend I’m not above bribery, either. I — we — have a lot of money. Perhaps we could buy the Minister an island? Do you think he’d like that?”
“Harry said the punishment was prison time.”
“Hm.”
Hermione stood from her chair by the fire and smoothed the nightgown over her legs, fingers trembling slightly. “Thank you,” She said, “For offering to pay a fine for me. And for hypothetically bribing the minister of magic with an island. But I think — I think this is just unavoidable. We’ll be okay.”
He smiled again, soft like the fuzzy clouds at sunrise. Hermione had never really noticed how his smile changed his entire face. “Yes,” he said, watching as she moved across the room, “We’ll be just fine.”
She lay down on the bed, closer to him now then she had been in years. The last time they’d touched had been when he’d clutched her shoulders the day of the trials, fingers tight around her flesh. When he’d apologized to her in that dimly lit hallway, tears tracking down his cheeks, uncaring of who saw.
Hermione found dwelling on the past did no one any good, but for once, she was glad he’d done so; if only for the growth that accompanied him with the passage of time.
Glad, that if this was going to happen, she would face the future with this version of Draco Malfoy.
Malfoy shifted, looming above her, his fingers finding the strap of her nightgown, twisting the fabrics softly before firmly pressing his hands on either side of her body. The mattress refused to creak, the only sound in the room their soft breaths.
“On or off?”
He waited politely for her answer, but his hands betrayed his tension, clutching almost angrily at the sheets, in danger of ripping them. Rich people, Hermione thought, could afford to rip their sheets. They could simply buy new ones.
“On.” Hermione said in a thick voice.
“On.” Malfoy agreed. “I’m going to touch you now.”
“Yes.” Hermione wished she was someone brighter, someone like Ginny or even Lavender. If they’d been assigned Malfoy, the room wouldn’t feel so thick and heavy. They’d be able to smile — they wouldn’t be frozen beneath him, skin as rigid as the bones underneath. “Alright.”
“You’re so much smaller up close.” Malfoy murmured, surprising both of them. “From afar, it’s easy to convince myself you’re a titan, towering above us mortals. But here, I think it’s undeniable.”
“I was taller when we were kids.” Was the response Hermione decided to give him. “Do you remember? I used to be taller than Harry.”
“I remember.” His thumb was rubbing circles against the top of her thigh. Just touching the skin, nothing scandalous, but Hermione felt a bit like a puritan seeing ankles for the first time.
“Do you think our child will be tall?” She asked, “Like you are?”
His touch faltered for a bit, a crack appearing in his perfect facade. For a moment, his eyes were bright, hungry. Then, he resumed his lazy touch, fingers slowly tracing down her legs, beneath her nightgown.
“I hope they inherit all your goodness.” Malfoy said roughly, “And they inherit all my height.”
Hermione had never thought about being a mother, never considered that a possibility — she certainly had never expected to become a parent with Draco Malfoy. But a life with Harry had inadvertently prepared Hermione to adapt to her environment, like those frogs that change genders.
“I’ll need to stretch you a bit.” Malfoy was saying, sliding down her body. Hermione wondered when she should start calling him Draco. Surely, soon, with the home he'd seemed to have made for himself between her thighs. “Please, just try to relax.”
“Right.”
His hot breath on her center was the only warning Hermione received before he was licking her, tongue twisting its way inside her cunt, thumb lazily rubbing her clit. She was wet, not an embarrassing amount, but not enough for him to grunt his approval, the vibration sending a shudder skittering up her spine.
“Oh,” she gasped, hips squirming against his hold, “Wha — what are you doing?”
“Shh,” he hushed her, words mumbled against her cunt, “It’s rude to interrupt.”
Then, he closed his lips around her clit and sucked, his sloppy noises filling the room. Distantly, Hermione heard someone babbling, broken cries and unfinished sentences — it took a moment to realize that voice was her own. Heat, like fire, like a dragon, spread across her body.
He was pressing her to his face, fingers digging into her flesh; each time she withered away from his tongue, his lips, even his teeth, his grip tightened, an arm pressed against the flesh of her stomach.
Finally, finally, finally, she felt one his fingers slip across her folds, sliding through the wetness. Malfoy’s fingers were so much thicker than her own, entering her with a bluntness she wasn’t accustomed to, twisting her open. Fucking her slowly, with no clear intention of quickening his pace.
“After the war,” Malfoy said, licking up her cunt with leisure, “When we were at school, I wanted to be near you every second. It was like waking up and realizing I could actually see the sun.”
She remembered, even now, through her trembling limbs, how he’d looked at her during their 8th year. It hadn’t been a predator's gaze, but one of blatant observation. Like he was truly seeing her for the first time; finally allowing himself to look.
“What a gift it is.” He murmured against her, a second finger sliding to join the first, a pleasant burn beginning to overtake Hermione, bubbling over the surface, spreading across her flesh, “The privilege to bask in your warmth.”
He devoured her until she came with a wail, on an exhale, head tossed back. Hermione twisted and twisted and twisted away, but his hold was firm. It hadn’t been like that with the others, rarely, it had even been like that with herself.
“Will that be enough?” She sniffed.
He pulled his cock out for her to see.
“Three fingers, then.” Hermione said, voice unsteady.
It was 11:53pm by the time he’d stretched her to his liking.
“Hermione.”
Hermione jerked at the use of her first name. “Yes?” She hiccuped.
He squinted up at her, hair falling over his eyes. He really looked like a stupid fairytale prince, even now, with his face glistening, wet with her, it was completely unfair. “Think of someone else. It’ll help this part.”
To her credit, Hermione tried to follow his directions.
Visions of Harry’s eyes morphed into gray, Ron’s arms around her torso tightened, the way she imagined he would clutch her to his chest — Seamus’s moans grew deeper, like his voice.
It seemed all roads led back to Draco Malfoy, and Hermione was too tired to contemplate the importance of that realization.
Earlier, he’d called her valiant. Brave. Said it was part of her nature, woven into her bones. If she had nothing left, she’d still have her bravery. Perhaps, it was time to use the courage everyone insisted she possessed.
“I’m not thinking of anyone else.”
Malfoy looked like someone had shot him. “What?”
“I’m not thinking of anyone else.” Hermione repeated loudly. Maybe he had a minor head cold and was having difficulty hearing her, “I’m thinking about you.”
“But I told you to think of the others.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“I’m not a dog.” Hermione scoffed. “I don’t blindly follow your orders.”
She ignored the way he smiled at her.
She felt him then, between her legs. Warm and heavy, a weight on her thigh, a promise for what was to come. “I’m,” Malfoy looked upset, angrier than before with the sheets, “I’m sorry that this happened. That it’s me.”
“I’m not.” The orgasms had loosened her limbs, a crack across a frozen pond; speaking to him seemed easier now, less world shattering. “I’m glad it’s you. I’ve fucked both my friends, it’s only natural that I’d carry on to my enemies next.”
“You think I'm your enemy?”
“No,” She sighed, “I think you’re my husband.”
“Say that again.”
“Husband.” She repeated. “You are my husband.”
“And you are my wife.”
Earlier cowardice forgotten, Hermione smiled up at him, all teeth. Malfoy blinked, like someone had turned on the lights. “ I’ve thought about you fucking me before.” She said softly, “Have you thought about me?”
Malfoy groaned, like he was in pain. “Constantly,” he said. “An agonizing amount. It’s time for me to fuck a baby into you. I’ll fill you up, alright? Will you let me?”
Hermione managed a confident nod.
The feel of all of him, tossed her head back.
Unfair, completely unfair, that this experience belonged to him, when already so many parts of her were his, too. His ownership over her mind had been a subtle acquisition, but this new feeling, the one burning through her, seemed to happen all at once.
“Such a good girl,” Malfoy grunted, “allowing me between your thighs.”
Then, he began to move, and the entire world seemed to tilt off axis.
Everything seemed to melt away, all that remained was Draco, the drag of his cock inside her.
She weakly clutched his arm when his fingers slid to her clit again, rubbing slow, agonizing circles. He smiled at the tears that stuck to her eyelashes, and it was a little mean.
“I won’t last,” he managed to say, “come on my cock, that’s a good girl, let me feel it.”
She felt when he came inside of her, heat spreading across her stomach. Winced slightly, when he kept fucking her, soft thrusts, fucking his cum deeper inside her.
“Have to make it stick.” He slurred.
“We can try again.” Hermione sighed, finally allowing her fingers to drag through his hair. Soft, softer than she thought it’d be — felt him twitch inside of her when she spoke. Wondered if her voice alone had the power to bring him to his knees.
“Has no one ever made you come before?” He hummed, “Does that job only belong to your husband?”
“You’ve never had a job in your life.”
She felt his smile against her skin. “Then I’ll need lots of practice.”
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Imagine Peter Rekindling His Crush On You
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Peter Quill X FemReader
Rating: T
Warnings: Suggestive themes, spoilers, mentions of an abusive relationship, fluff
Word Count: 1.4k
(A/N:) Okay I have seen GOTG Vol. 3 twice now and I freaking LOVE this movie! It has reignited my love of Peter. I had this idea and I had to write it! I’m even staying up late to get it done as I want to get it posted ASAP! I hope my fellow Peter fangirls enjoy it as it has a little bit of angst and fluff. I had so much fun writing this and I hope I can get more ideas to write for Peter! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess
SPOILERS FOR GOTG VOL. 3 BELOW!!!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED THE MOVIE!!!
A week had gone by since Peter had returned to Earth and it had been pretty calm so far. Catching up with his grandfather had been easier than expected and his last remaining Terran relative welcomed him back like the prodigal son. But now Peter was wanting to find more people he had known all those years ago. It didn’t take long until his thoughts had begun to dwell on you. He remembered the crush he had harbored for you, even after Yondu had taken him away his thoughts had gone back to you if he was in need of something good to remember. He asked his grandpa about you, but for some reason the older man was keeping quiet about you. It aggravated Peter but he didn’t ask much, not wanting to push his grandpa’s buttons too much. Though he couldn’t shake the feeling that the older man was up to something.
It shocked Peter that one fateful day that you turned up to his grandpa’s front door, like it was the most normal thing in the world. You waltzed in easily, hands full with vegetables.
“Mr. Quill I brought you...,” you paused almost dropping your bundle of goods. You fumbled around, regaining control but still staring at Peter who sat on the couch. Normally he would have laughed at someone giving him such a look but he knew he had to have the same expression on his face. While he still loved Gamora so much, it was a blessing to see you once again. You aged, just as he had but he couldn’t help but see how much of a beautiful woman you had become.
“Peter,” you asked as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.
“Hi (Y/N),” Peter spoke while rising from the couch. He took the vegetables from you and laid them on the kitchen counter. You followed close behind, still unbelieving that Peter was standing right in front of you. Grown and more handsome than you could have ever imagined. You swallowed loudly, stepping closer to him. He leaned backwards, suddenly uncomfortable with how close you were. You suddenly hugged him, shocking him more.
“It really is you!”
Peter chuckled finally hugging you back, “Yeah. I had some loose ends to fix.”
You punched his shoulder roughly.
“Ow! What was that for,” he squalled.
“For leaving without saying goodbye,” you glared.
“I had no choice!”
You continued to glare before relenting. It wasn’t Peter’s fault, you knew that. But it had hurt that day that he had disappeared. You were sure he was as good as dead until you had saw Thanos’ defeat and Peter had stood amongst the heroes that had saved the Earth. But now with him standing in front of you in person, the relief was becoming so overwhelming. You had thought about him a lot since then and you were afraid that you would never get to see him again. Or that if you did get to see him, he wouldn’t remember you at all. But now you were so relieved that that wasn’t the case. You hugged him again, but this time he was scared you would punch him again. Peter held you away from him about to say something else when you looked down. A little boy that hid behind you, tugged on the hem of your shirt. Looking up at Peter with large bright eyes. Of course, you were married. Any guy would be stupid to pass you up, he just hated he was too late. You looked down at your son, rubbing the mop of his hair affectionately.
“Peter this is my son,” you pushed the little boy forward who pushed back too shy to stand before Peter. 
Peter’s eyes went from the young boy to your left hand. He didn’t spy a ring on your finger, but that didn’t mean you weren’t taken. He looked back to the boy who still was trying to escape. He squatted down getting eye level with him before smiling warmly.
“I’m a good friend of your mom’s,” he said holding out a hand. “We knew each other when we were kids.”
“Hi,” he answered timidly before looking back up towards you. Satisfied with him braving a new stranger you let him dart back behind you. You chuckled, shaking your head.
“He’s a little shy sorry about that,” you said.
Peter waved it off, though his heart hurt he was glad you found some happiness in life. You sent your son off to go play as Peter invited you to go outside to sit while you watched your son play. While you enjoyed the sunshine warming your face, Peter couldn’t help but look at your ring finger, the lack of ring bothering him. He didn’t have a right to be jealous of someone who had been there for you, but his heart was betraying him.
You were enjoying the silence, just glad to see Peter once again when he interrupted the silence.
“Who’s the lucky man,” he finally asked. His curiosity and jealousy too much to bear. You stiffened, refusing to look at Peter. You were really hoping he wouldn’t ask but of course he would once he saw your son. You sighed, deflating back into the chair.
“He’s not in our lives anymore,” you replied vaguely. Peter just continued to stare and you sighed again. “He left me a little after I gave birth. He was verbally abusive and he didn’t really love me. He just lied to get to me. I married him like an idiot and I suffered since.”
Peter felt his rage starting to choke him, especially when he saw a stray tear make it’s way down your cheek. He couldn’t imagine someone being so cruel to you and leaving  you alone to raise a child alone. His hands clenched into fists as he trembled in rage.
“He didn’t deserve you,” Peter snarled.
You jumped in your chair, surprised at the anger in Peter’s voice. Every emotion began to swirl inside your mind as you saw how much he actually cared about you.
“Any man that is dumb enough to marry you and knock you up just to belittle you and abandon you is not worth anything in any universe.”
Peter thought about his father who had killed his mother and left Peter alone in the world. If it hadn’t been for Yondu, in his own twisted way, rescuing him he wouldn’t be here talking with you. Peter suddenly took your hand giving it a gentle but firm squeeze.
“You deserve better,” Peter continued.
You laughed nervously a blush darkening your cheeks. “Laying that Quill charm on thick aren’t we?”
“I’m serious,” Peter replied. “He deserves better too.” He gestured to the little boy racing around the yard, giggling gleefully. You touched your cheek, surprised to find tears streaking your skin.
“I’ve missed you,” you whispered. Sure you had been so young when Peter left but it had left a void in your life you had tried to ignore. But now with him back on Earth and a grown man, you found that he had meant more to you than anything. You felt foolish for finding someone else to take his place and the one you found had been a waste of time. Your son was the only good thing that had come from that relationship and marriage. Peter tugged you back into another embrace, kissing your cheek. His beard quickly catching your tears as you clung to him tightly.
“I missed you too,” Peter said. He never wanted to let you go now that you were back in his life. While Gamora still hurt, he found that holding you and seeing you again felt right. He felt a conviction well up inside him, that he wanted to show you how much of a real man he could be.
“Can I take you and him out sometime,” he asked.
You sniffed before nodding. “I would like that very much.”
“Be prepared for the best date of your life,” he announced making you laugh.
“I’ll hold you to that,” you smiled through your tears.
“I want you too,” he replied before jumping up from his chair. He kissed you again before taking off after your son. The little boy squealed as Peter chased him around the yard, scooping him up and throwing him up in the air. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore as old feelings came back to you. Peter was back in your life and you couldn’t say it was a bad thing at all.
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nexysworld · 1 year
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Can you do a fem reader x leon where fem reader told leon for every infected/enemy he Kills she will Kiss him and for every boss he kills she will she sleep with him
Leon took that offer and he pretty much did his part of the deal 😉 and he gets his prize at the end
LOVE this idea - not sure if this is exactly what you meant but I ran with it literally. 💜
Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤 Masterlist ~ High Score ~ Pairing: Fem!Reader x Leon Kennedy Tags: NSFW, Smut, Blowjobs, Unprotected sex, Fem!Receiving Oral, Mild manipulation, overstimulation, use of cuffs, Switch!Leon, no use of Y/N, not really proof read srry. Wordcount: 2.5k
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Leon had been badgering you for attention ever since he got back from his most recent work excursion. Unfortunately for your boyfriend, this weekend just happened to be the release of the remake of one of your favorite childhood video games: Zombie Slayer 4. You dropped hundreds of dollars on the special release and even camped outside the local game store to get it, nothing and no one, was going to pry you away from it.
“You’ve been playing for hours. Don’t you think it’s time to give it a break? We can go out to dinner or something.” “No Lee, I’m only a quarter of the way through.” “How!? You’ve been playing for like 20 hours straight!” “Because I am taking my time and ensuring I collect all the treasure.” “What the hell do zombies need treasure for?” “The Zombies don’t need the treasure, I do, to sell so I can buy better weapons.” You heard him groan in response. Leon wasn’t big on video games, especially not horror ones - says they reminded him too much of work. You could understand, while you weren’t a field agent, you did file their reports and were privy to mission details. “Come on babe, please? I missed you.” Leon had slunk to the floor behind you, wrapping his arms under yours, and folding his hands together over your chest. You could feel his boner pressing into you through his pajama pants. “Are you serious right now?” “I really missed you.” He emphasized as he wiggled his hips against you. “Leon. I’ve been waiting for this remake for like 7 years now. You’ll live by occupying yourself for one weekend.” You crooked your neck to face him and nearly died. He was giving you his absolute best kicked-puppy look, those endlessly blue eyes just radiated need and sadness. “Oh come on, don’t give me that face.”
In response he amped it up further, even jutting his bottom lip out in a pout. Damn him and his stupidly handsome features. As close as your wall came to crumbling down, it wasn’t entirely ready to fall yet - an idea popped into your head. “Fine Leon, how about a deal then? If you want my attention so bad, play a level on Hardcore mode, for every zombie you kill, I’ll give you a kiss. If you kill a boss, I’ll relieve that tension in your pants. Hmm?” “What if I kill more than one boss?” “For every boss you kill, that’s one round under the sheets.” “And if I beat your score?” “Pretty confident in yourself for someone who doesn’t like games.” “Humor me.” “Fine, if you beat my score, I’ll even go out to dinner with you and spend the rest of the night cuddling.” “Deal!” He shouted with no hesitation, yanking the controller from your hand. “Killing monsters in a game isn’t the same as real life, Mr. Sharp Shooter.” A smug smile adorned your features. You’d only made the deal knowing that Leon didn’t play video games, assuming he’d crash and burn. A great miscalculation. 
He was a beast, mowing down enemies left and right, even making swift work of both bosses without taking any damage. Your jaw dropped as the high-score music played, a rave of colors blasting from the TV. He’d not only beat your score but hit the max points possible. “You were saying?” “What the hell…how did you do that? I thought you….I can’t believe that.” “I told you I didn’t like video games, not that I wasn’t good at them.” He set the controller down before leaning back into you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “So then, how about my prize, Sweetheart? Looks like you’re in debt about 1000 kisses and two rounds below the belt.” 
“Ok fine. A deal’s a deal.” 
Leon removed himself from you so he could sit back on the couch, hands tucked behind his head for comfort. His deliciously plush lips were turned up into a smile. “Well baby, get to it.” 
Pushing yourself off the ground you made your way over to him, leaning down to start pressing kisses to the corner of his mouth, trailing a line along his jaw. He tilted his head for you to have better access to his neck as you worked your way down.
Normally he was the one covering you in a map of purple and red, but you were in quite a bit of debt and couldn’t afford to leave any of him untouched and unmarked. By the time you’d reached his pecs he was already trying to buck up into you for some friction, but you remained in a position where only your mouth was on him, your arms steadying yourself. “Baby, I need you so bad.” At least your plan to tease him was working, with him already pleading for you. “And you have me Lee. I owe you a lot of kisses, so you need to be patient.” You continued lower, nipping at the skin of his stomach, dragging your tongue down across his abs and past his naval before kissing back up the trail of saliva. There was something about the way his muscles felt contracting under your touch that drove you wild. 
You didn’t even need to look down to know there was a growing wet spot forming on his gray pajama pants. Making your way back down you gave slow nips along the skin just above the hem of his pants before digging your fingers into the waistband, pulling them down just enough to free his erection. You placed small kisses all over the head and down the shaft making him whimper more. “Baby don’t tease…” “Not teasing - should’ve thought this through before killing so many enemies.” You gave him a sly smile. As much as you wanted to continue though, even your own willpower was waning with him right in front of your face like this.
Bringing a hand up you gave him a few slow pumps, watching as precum oozed from the tip and ran down, catching it with your tongue. You licked up the underside before finally taking the head into your mouth sucking as you bobbed your head shallowly. 
A relieved moan escaped his lips as he jerked his hips forward, causing his tip to hit the back of your throat gagging you slightly. “Mm sorry, feels so good, just can’t help it.” His hand found its way to your hair holding you in place for a moment as drool dripped down the corners of your mouth. “You always look so pretty like this.” You took in a big gulp of air when he let you pop off, before guiding you back down, balls slapping resting against your chin, while you relaxed your throat taking him deeper and deeper. He let go of your hair allowing you to move freely, burying your nose in the wiry hair of his pelvis each time you swallowed him down. 
He was close, you could tell by the way it throbbed in your mouth and the heady noises he no longer bothered to attempt to contain. It was rare you got the needy submissive version of Leon and you loved it. You’d stay between his legs for eternity if it meant hearing him like this, seeing his eyes closed tight, tongue almost hanging out.
It was euphoric seeing such a tough strong guy become a melted mess because of you. 
Adding your hands to to the mix, you massaged his balls with your left hand, right coming up to help jerk the base of his cock focusing your mouth on pleasuring the tip, sucking and lapping at the slit with your tongue. “Oh god that feels so good. Baby I’m gonna –” 
You didn’t let him finish his sentence speeding up your movements. Within a moment hot cum was sliding down your throat with each twitch of his cock. Just for fun, you removed your hand, taking him to the base again overstimulating him as he writhed beneath you. “Ah, ah, ah, c-can’t, too sensitive….ah..” Despite his pleas he made no move to remove you or say the safeword, so you kept going a little longer before sliding off with a pop. You continued to give slow agonizing pumps as you peppered more kisses to the tip, milking whatever cum was left. 
“Think you’re real cute doing all that, huh?” His cheeks were beautifully flushed from the intensity and overstimulation of his orgasm. “No clue what you’re talking about - just playing by the rules of the agreement.” 
You knew you were in for it now that he’d caught his breath. Quickly he’d removed his pants the rest of the way before your own clothes were being torn off. 
His lips caught yours in a passionate kiss as his hands wandered, palming one breasts and running his thumb over the nippple of your other. Walking you backwards towards the bedroom, he barely gave you the chance to breathe before he was back to sucking on your lips and shoving his tongue down your throat. 
Unceremoniously you were tossed onto the bed, wrists being bound to the metal headboard by the fuzzy cuffs that were left there for special occasions. “The cuffs, really?” “Can’t trust your bratty little hands after what you did.” 
Leon kept your legs pinned open with his knees as he worked your breasts, sucking on your nipples and kneading them. The sensation made you want to squirm, already having been turned on from blowing him, slick had already been pooling down your thighs. Your clit was throbbing and in desperate need of attention, but you were unable to move or do anything to get relief. “Aww poor baby, want something?” “Mhm.” “Too bad, should’ve thought about that before all your teasing.” Leon mimicked your previous motions, sucking and kissing up and down your body, doing any and everything but touching you where you so desperately needed. You felt your pussy desperately trying to clamp around nothing, clit aching with an arousal so deep it made your whole body feel hot. 
You wiggled, cuffs jingling against the bed, trying to get him to hurry up. “Please Lee, ‘m so sorry.” “Is that so? I don’t believe you.” He gave a suck to skin above your hip bone. Not bothering to truly speed up he continued to kiss down your pelvis, just above where you want him most, before he skipped that spot entirely to suck on your thighs. “You’re so fucking wet even without being touched. Do you like sucking me off that bad, or are you just so needy that it only takes some kissing to get you going?”
“Both. Both. Both.” You chanted trying to buck your hips up for more stimulation, again halted by his arms holding you in place. “So bratty before, now you wanna act like a greedy baby?” He chuckled but finally obliged leaning forward and giving a suck to your clit before circling it with the tip of his tongue. The sensation radiated pleasureful tingles from your core outwards, nearly overwhelmed by it. “Thank you. God thank you.” You prayed. He was being nice now, even letting you rut against his face to relieve yourself. His nose rubbed deliciously against your sensitive bud while his tongue slid in and out of you with each rapid movement of your hips. It should’ve been a red flag, he was never this nice when the cuffs came out – but you were far to lost in pleasure to think or care. Heat was building up in your core and you were so close. You wanted to grab his hair, or at least find purchase for your hand somewhere, but the cuffs kept them hanging above you. He brought his mouth back to your clit sucking on it a few more times, leaving you screaming his name as you flung your head back. Your legs shook and toes trembled as the heat in your core snapped and rushed out of you. Before you’d even got the chance to bask in the aftershocks of your first orgasm, he kept going sucking and lapping at your clit. Pupils blown you were breathless, your legs trembled as you let out the most pathetically feral noise, a mix of a pleading whine and a moan as he continued working your now far too overstimulated clit. “Too much.” You managed to get out. “You can do it for me baby, one more.” He cooed before resuming his sloppy attack between your shaking thighs. This time around he added two fingers into your sopping whole, giving your walls something to cling to, working them in and out. 
You were a sputtering mess, not able to do anything besides accept the overwhelming pleasure. Tears ran down your face when your second orgasm was ripped from you, causing you to kick and buck wildly. 
Leon pulled away, wiping the wetness from his chin. “You always look the most beautiful right after I ruin you baby.” He leaned forward pressing soft kisses to your forehead and then cheeks, giving you time to relax and come down from your spot on cloud 9. “You ok baby, still with me?” You nodded, brain slowly allowing you to come back to the moment. He unhooked the cuffs from the bed allowing your arms to fall to your side. “You want to stop? We don’t have to keep going.” “‘M fine.” “You sure?” “Yeah, still want you to fuck me. Please? Wanna be good and finish your prize” “Can’t say no to that.” He leaned forward and kissed you soft and slowly, far more romantic than his earlier actions. He slid the head of himself up and down your slit gathering the slick there before slowly pushing himself into your hole, burying himself to the hilt. It felt so good to finally be stretched out around him. Keening you arched your back again and he took the opportunity to wrap an arm under you, keeping you close while he fucked you at a steady pace, ensuring you felt every movement. 
His name left your mouth each time his tip kissed your cervix, legs bouncing on his shoulders as he leaned into the mating press more so he could kiss you again. “You’re so perfect. So perfect. I love you so much.” He buried his face in your neck, and you wound your arms around him, enjoying the intimate closeness, feeling your third orgasm so close. Leon adjusted and propped himself up with his arms so he could speed up, pistoning his hips against yours. “Gonna cum again.” “Me too Sweetheart, cum with me, alright?” You nodded slinking your hand down between your melded bodies gently rubbing at your clit. The second the walls of your pussy clamped down around him with your own orgasm, his second one crashed down around him – more hot ropes of cum splatted your insides. Once soft again, he pulled collapsing next to you. With heavy limbs you managed to flop over him, resting your head on his chest, arm splayed over his abdomen. The moments of silence that followed were blissful – until he spoke again. “So…what are you feeling for dinner?” “Are you still serious about that? God, what does it take to tire you out.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine, let’s go to that Hibachi place on main street.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He rubbed small circles into your back while he allowed you to recover, game now completely forgotten.
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suga-kookiemonster · 1 year
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satisfy 05
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summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ seokjin/reader, namjoon/reader, taehyung/reader, …..jimin/reader word count⇢ 15.9k genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda) warnings⇢ 😇😇😇😇 *chin hands sweetly* STRAP IN, FOLKS!!: GANGBANG. this chapter will include three brothers having sex with the reader at the same time (but not with each other). if this bothers you, please feel free to skip!, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral (f+m giving/receiving), fingering, face fucking, exhibitionism, voyuerism, da booty getting ate like groceries, assplay, name calling, daddy kink, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, marking, spitroasting, cumplay, bukakke 😭, honestly this is a hot ass MESS and i should be sorry but i’m not 🤷🏽‍♀️ a/n⇢ well, hello~ long time no see!!!! i'm super pumped about this chapter because it has literally been in the works since i planned this whole fic out years ago 😭 a lot of planning and struggling later, and WE FINALLY HERE 🙌🏾 🙌🏾 i am so relieved that this finally exists in the world and not just in my head lmao. thank you all for hanging with me for this long and being so patient. i hope this chapter lives up to your expectations 😈 only the epilogue left! 😮‍💨👀 mood for this chapter is this song~ hope everyone enjoys!
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Days quickly morphed into weeks, time continuing to flow even without you consciously noticing it pass you by. You were just so busy, both your schoolwork and your unconventional part-time job a whirlwind of activity that left you too preoccupied to do much else. Your already scant social life was starting to suffer, but honestly? You were completely fine with that—a neverending schedule of sex, sleep, and studying was more than enough, and it was highly unlikely you would be able to fit anything else onto your overflowing plate anyway.
It was expected for you to not have that much free time, anyway. Jimin’s was waning too, as the further the two of you got into your studies, the busier you both became. You still texted often to make sure each other was alive, but with your differing schedules, the new normal became not getting to see him in person for weeks on end.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t losing steam. Burning the candle at both ends was finally starting to catch up with you, but there wasn’t much you could do about it other than focusing on powering through it. This was the career path you chose—your dream—and so you simply just had to bear everything that came along with it. You were willing to put the work in to reach your goals, and you just kept reminding yourself that how you were living now was just a means to an end. 
Not that you at all only found the Kims to be a means to an end. Yes, they were paying your way through school, but you still really enjoyed the time you spent with each of them. They were all great company in different ways, and at this point, the only time you were freed from the library’s clutches was when one of them wanted to take you somewhere, so you found them to be more of a welcome distraction than anything else. 
Unfortunately, that still didn’t change the fact that at the end of the day, you were bone tired.
You had always been good at compartmentalizing. But though you tried your best to not let your slowly-building fatigue show, even your new employers could tell that you were being ran a bit ragged. Namjoon came to pick you up for a date one day, and all it took was one long look at you while you were trying to buckle your seatbelt for him to put the car in park and hustle you back upstairs instead, despite your protests. You thought that maybe he decided to forgo your movie plans for much more carnal activities, but once you were back inside your apartment, he sprawled himself onto your couch and reached for you. You were confused, but when you reflexively took his hand, he simply pulled you down with him and easily folded you into his body. 
God, he smelled good. And was comfortable and warm, so it didn’t take long for you to nod off, despite only being fifteen minutes into whatever Netflix movie he had put on. Namjoon spent his scheduled date letting you snore into his chest, and when you woke up hours later, groggy and discombobulated, you found him already gone and a blanket thrown over you.
It didn’t take a genius to realize he must have said something to his brothers. The next day, seemingly out of the blue, you got an email notification that Wendy, Seokjin’s assistant, had canceled an upcoming work lunch that had been on the calendar for weeks. (You highly doubted the lunch itself was canceled—just that Jin had decided to go alone.) And you were so used to Taehyung’s frequent visits that when he didn’t stop by for four days in a row, it became blatantly obvious that something was amiss. 
They were giving you space.
But if you were honest, though you appreciated the sudden breathing room in your schedule, all of them suddenly pulling out of the arrangement was making you uneasy. This was a job, after all, and you weren’t fully holding up your end of the bargain. Hell, the week before had been your period, so you hadn’t slept with any of them then, either. And, considering the fact that all three Kims were set to go on an overseas business trip soon, the amount of leave you were inadvertently taking was quickly adding up.  
You needed this money. You needed this money, this was not what they agreed to, and you were nervous you were starting to frustrate them.
To their credit, none of them ever seemed to be. Early on, when your period made its first appearance as the perpetual wrench in your plans, Seokjin had casually informed you that he was totally fine with just putting a towel down. However, when he saw you weren’t nearly as enthused with the idea, he simply gave you an easy shrug and said, “Then take whatever time you need.” His brothers had been equally as accommodating, and have been ever since (though Taehyung sometimes still liked to playfully pout at you when you told him Aunt Flo was in town).
But the fact was, you ultimately weren’t holding up your end of the bargain, and that knowledge was constantly hovering in the back of your mind and making you a bit anxious. That was why, days before he was scheduled to leave for his three week business trip, you took initiative and asked Taehyung if he wanted to come over. 
Both Seokjin and Namjoon had already graciously canceled their standing appointments with you for the second week in a row, but Taehyung had never had a standing appointment. He was always much more spontaneous than his brothers, and that personality trait was no different when it came to you, so that’s what you were counting on.
[1:32] Hey! Did you want to come over tomorrow? [1:32] Or later today, I guess
Despite it being so late, Tae apparently hadn’t gone to bed yet. He was a bit of a night owl, like you.
Taehyung [1:34] Well hello~ Taehyung [1:34] So nice to hear from you, sweetcheeks. How’s it been going? [1:35] Sweetcheeks, Taehyung? Really? Taehyung [1:35] What? They’ve always looked pretty sweet to me 😌👀
You scoffed, amused and fond. Always an incorrigible flirt, that one.
[1:35] Yeah, okay lol  [1:36] So if they’re so sweet, what are you gonna do about it?
A pause, one slightly too long for someone whose phone was in their hand and had been actively responding to you only moments before. You knew you had him even before his reply finally came through.
Taehyung [1:37] What time?
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The next day, you focused on getting as much of your work done as you could before the hard stop of when you knew you had to start getting ready. You took a long shower, letting the hot water relax your stiff muscles before carefully maneuvering into the lingerie that was still prettily packaged in the bag from the boutique you got it from, untouched on the floor of your closet since you bought it.
You hadn’t seen him a while, so it only made sense to you to make things a little more exciting than usual. Spice it up. Honestly, sex with Taehyung was always anything with boring, but the thigh-highs you slipped into were just as much for you as him. You had been so focused on your studies that you couldn’t remember the last time you wore anything other than court-approved suits, sweatpants, or pajamas. It would be nice to feel something other than just tired again. To feel desired. Sexy.
And even you could admit the outfit you had chosen was sexy. A crimson, lacy bodysuit thing that did little to obscure the dusk of your nipples and disappeared between your asscheeks. The matching thigh-highs, joined with garters. You even had a pair of heels that you planned to wear—ones that made your legs look a mile long, but hurt like a bitch every time you attempted to wear them out. Despite their shortcomings, you were willing to slip on the deathtraps because luckily, for this particular occasion, you wouldn’t have to go anywhere in them, nor would they stay on you for very long. 
You were even planning on putting on a little makeup, on properly doing your hair for the first time in weeks and giving the bun you had been sporting a rest. However, all it took was a knock on your door to put an end to all those extras.
You frowned at the sound and padded over to your front door, happy you had already thrown on one of your law school hoodies to keep yourself warm until the festivities properly started. The sight of a familiar man through the peephole, hands resting comfortably in his slacks, threw you off.
Automatically, your hands were disengaging all the locks, were swinging the door open. “You’re early—”
Whatever words you had next immediately dissipated on your tongue. Taehyung was there, but he apparently came with company. Your mind whirred, trying to come up with a perfectly logical reason for why all three Kim brothers were at your doorstep right now.  
“Your hair,” you blurted, your scrambled brain latching onto the easiest subject first.
“Hmm?” Taehyung ruffled his newly dyed locks, the onyx hue a stark difference from the silver you were used to. “Oh yeah, I guess I haven’t seen you all week. My dad wanted me to dye it to a more ‘appropriate’ color before the conference. But whatever—it was time for a change, anyway. And this will be much easier to upkeep.”
You could only continue to stare at him as he spoke, your eyes naturally drifting over his shoulder at your additional visitors. 
All three of them were dressed pretty casually, which was normal for Taehyung and Namjoon, but less so for Seokjin when not in the comfort of his own home. The soft pink of his sweatsuit was a stark contrast to the sharp intelligence of his eyes, and he met your gaze for only a few seconds before he was turning to meet Namjoon’s instead, a pinch in his brow. 
Taehyung spoke again before either of them could say anything. “You gonna keep us out here?” he teased, casually leaning against the doorframe.
That finally jumpstarted you out of your haze, scrambling to move out of the way and gesture them inside. “Yes, of course. Come in!” Before your nosy neighbor caught them and assumed you were slutting it up.
(She would technically be right, but still. It was the principle. Your life was none of that judgy old shrew’s business.) 
Tae strolled in like he always did—like he owned the place—but you noticed his brothers’ strides seemed a bit more hesitant than the confidence you were usually witness to. Namjoon’s mouth was slightly pursed in the way you’d long learned meant he was thinking. Why did they seem as confused as you did?
“Hi,” you hedged anyway, a small, puzzled smile on your lips. “It’s been a while. Sorry if I’m acting weird—I just wasn’t expecting you, so I’m a little thrown off.”
Understanding immediately crossed Seokjin’s features, but you only got a second to see it before he was whipping towards his youngest brother, appalled. 
Namjoon was looking at him too, clearly irritated. “Are you serious, Taehyung?”
“What?” you asked, gaze flitting between the three of them in hope of finding some sort of clarity. 
“You never asked her?” Seokjin snapped.
“You know that’s not cool, man,” Namjoon sighed, an agitated hand running though blond locks.  
Why were they standing in your hallway and having whole conversations in front of you like you weren’t even there? “Never asked me what?” you cut in bemusedly, a little louder than you intended. It worked, at least, all three men immediately turning back to you.
Taehyung, for his part, looked properly contrite, cringing a little at the exasperation in your voice. “I’m sorry,” he told the room before placing his attention solidly back on you. His eyes were soft and sincere. “It truly slipped my mind, and I’m sorry, _____. I didn’t think.”
“When do you ever?” Seokjin snarked, but you ignored him, focused solely on Taehyung.
“What, Tae?” you encouraged gently. “What are you sorry for?”
It was clear from the hunch of his shoulders that he felt bad. “Um…”
“He invited us to come with him to meet you today,” Namjoon supplied. He gave his little brother a disappointed shake of his head. “But that’s not a decision for him to make. Is it, Tae.”
“I just knew that none of us have seen her in a while,” Tae whined. “And _____, when you reached out yesterday, I figured it would be the perfect opportunity since we’re about to leave the country for a few weeks.”
“I should have known better,” Seokjin muttered below his breath, looking heavenward in his annoyance. “I’m really sorry about this, _____. You never marked group activities as a no and I assumed Taehyung actually asked you like an adult, so I thought you were on board. I can leave.”
You blinked, still trying to grasp what was going on. “You were…trying to share your time?” you asked Taehyung slowly.
He nodded meekly. “I don’t mind sharing,” came his honest answer.
“But does she,” Seokjin scoffed, rubbing his temples in irritation. “That’s the only thing that matters. And to think otherwise is just selfish, Taehyung.”
“No, no, it’s okay.” The words left your lips before your brain could even register them, likely spurred on by how the increasingly chastened expression on Taehyung’s face. The three of them looked at you in surprise.
“It’s okay?” Namjoon parroted, an eyebrow raised in question.
You swallowed, mind racing to actually consider the consequences of what your mouth had just offered. But your nod of confirmation came almost immediately, because you knew Taehyung had never been trying to trap you. One of the qualities that simply made him him was his spontaneity, and while that made him fun and interesting to be around, it also was a double-edged sword that could easily make you end up in situations like this.
Tae knew none of them had seen you in a while, he knew they were soon going to jet out of the country, and had simply been trying to be nice in inviting his brothers along. He didn’t mean any harm.
“It’s okay,” you repeated, giving him a reassuring smile that visibly loosened some of the tension in his body. “You can all stay.”
The words settled between the four of you, heavy in the resulting quiet. Teeming with implication. You still weren’t completely sure what you were agreeing to, but what you did know was that you were going to need something to help stave off the nerves slowly bubbling beneath your skin. You cleared your throat, turning to make your way to the kitchen. “I think I need a drink.”
You didn’t glance back at them, but you could still feel them trailing you. Feel the heat of their gaze, and even the distinct heat of a body against your back, only a whisper away. Instead, you busied yourself with rooting around in your pantry and pulling out a handle of tequila. 
“This for me?” hummed a familiar velvety voice, close enough for you to easily deduce who had invited himself into your space so intimately. Taehyung. 
You looked over your shoulder at him, immediately frozen with what you saw. His eyes were blatantly trailing your figure, undeterred by the obstacle of your sweatshirt and easily roving your stockinged legs and feet. A dangerous smirk crawled across his face that had a delighted shiver racing down your spine in anticipation. “What?” came your stupefied reply. 
“This.” His gaze lingered on your toes, but quickly rose so he could playfully flick the zipper of your sweatshirt. “Whatever you’ve got on under there. Is it for me?”
Heat licked between your thighs at his deceptively light tone. At the way he was looking at you. “No,” you sniffed. Not wanting to give in just yet. “Just something I wear around the house.”
“Well, it’s nice,” came another voice, and you were instantly reminded of your other guests. Namjoon was leaning against an adjacent counter, eyes dark. “You never wear stuff like this for me—Taehyung must be your favorite.”
Startled despite his teasing tone, your hands flew up in protest. “N-No, it’s not that—”
“Of course I’m the favorite,” Tae sassed, throwing you a wink. “It’s okay to admit it, _____. We all know!” 
There was an almost immediate snort from behind you. Technically quiet enough to go unnoticed, but full of just enough derision that Taehyung’s proverbial hackles raised at the very sound of it. His head whipped to the source.
Jin looked deceptively bored, meeting his youngest brother’s glower with a flat stare. A single lifted eyebrow said everything his mouth deigned not worth the effort. What?
Tae scowled at his brother’s obvious disdain, but then, after a few moments, he simply shot an exhale from his nose and shook his head. “You’re clearly goading me,” he chuckled. “But you know what? It’s not gonna work this time. If you’re gonna be a jackass, you can just go.”
“I think you’re vastly overestimating your importance in this situation,” Seokjin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “But what else is new.”
“Guys,” Namjoon sighed, holding up pacifying hands in an attempt to ward off the rising tension.
You observed the whole exchange silently, still too off-kilter from the situation you’d suddenly found yourself in to do much more than look from brother to brother as if you were watching a tennis match. 
This was only the second time the four of you had all been in the same room—with the first being your original meeting discussing the contract. Well, technically third, if you counted that party Taehyung took you to so many months ago—the one that rerouted your life onto this much more interesting path. But the three of them hadn’t really mingled then, so you had been left to speculate their group dynamic. 
Now, though, you were starting to suspect your inklings were true.
Seokjin, the oldest, with lots of responsibility and expectations always set on him. Taehyung, the spoiled youngest who grew up without any of the same restraints, but also without any of the same parental attention. And Namjoon, the calm, stereotypical middle child, the glue who held it all together. The forced peacemaker who made sure that any of his brothers’ unspoken resentment for each other never got too far out of line.
“The only person who can tell me to leave is _____,” Seokjin continued, the sound of your name immediately throwing you out of your thoughts. You straightened, unprepared to suddenly find yourself locking eyes with him and surprised at the intensity you found there. “And is that what you want, _____? Do you want me to leave?”
“No, of course not,” you blurted. You didn’t miss the smug look Jin threw his brother, nor the way Tae’s lips pursed in irritation, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care about any of that right now. With a steadying breath, you focused instead on shuffling over to another cabinet and pulling out a glass.
It was starting to hit you. You weren’t sure what in the hell was going on, what exactly it was you agreed to, but whatever it was, you now had all three of your lovers in your apartment at the same time. Respectful of you and your space, but still obviously ogling you—ravenous predators slowly and eagerly circling their next meal.
It all made your skin prickle in anticipation, the thrill of the unknown buzzing in your veins.    
“Choo choo,” you muttered to yourself sarcastically, pouring a healthy amount of tequila into your cup.
Namjoon raised a brow. “What?”
“What?” you parroted immediately, startled that he had heard you.
“I just…nevermind, I thought you said something.”
“Oh. Uh, I was just wondering if any of you wanted any.”
“No, I’m okay. Thank you.”
“I’ll take some,” Tae piped up brightly, moving into your space before you could blink. Body a breath away as he reached over to you to pull his own cup from the cabinet. You froze at his proximity, unable to look away as he smirked down at you. “Choo choo,” he murmured with a wink.
Before you could react with anything more than a sharp gasp, he was pulling away again, reaching for the tequila bottle.
Jesus.
With a slightly unsteady hand, heart pumping furiously in your chest, you welcomed the burning liquid down your throat, sticking your cup out for Tae to pour you more once it was empty.
“So how have you all been?” you babbled, tone a little too high and strained to be casual. “It’s been so long, I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me. Or that you’d made other arrangements or something. I don’t think I’ve ever been paid to be stood up before, that’s kind of embarrassing—” A hand, warm and gentle, rested on your arm, and immediately, all coherent thought escaped your electrified body.   
It was Seokjin, slowly rubbing what he likely thought were calming assurances, but only amping you up more. “She rambles when she’s nervous,” he informed his brothers, the small smile on his lips betraying his endearment.  
“Aw, don’t be nervous, babe. I’ll take good care of you,” Taehyung cooed, effortlessly draining his glass and motioning towards yours. “Want another one?”
No, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. The last thing you needed was something that could lower your gag reflex even more. Vomming all over them would certainly make for an interesting going away gift, but then they would most certainly ghost you for real.
You shook your head of the negative thoughts, timidly swiping a tongue over your suddenly very dry lips. “So how exactly is this going to work?”  
“The way it’s always worked,” Tae reassured you with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s just you and me. The only difference is that they’re here too—but you don’t have to worry about that. I told them they could only watch.”
It took you a few moments to process that, your eyes silently roving over each of them and finding them all watching you right back. Ready, but waiting. 
Look, don’t touch. Another interesting twist to a night that was already looking to be interesting.
“Is that okay?” Seokjin asked, clearly intending to follow your lead. Leaving the ball in your court. And another glance at the other two showed they obviously shared their older brother’s sentiments. 
A memory flickered teasingly in the corner of your mind—the trepidation of being fucked in front of a window where anyone could see. The undeniable thrill that followed the thought of being watched. 
You swallowed. “Yeah,” you finally replied. “If…you want to.”
“Do you want us to?” Namjoon pressed sternly, refusing to let go of your gaze. Communication, he always insisted. Solid consent, or no consent at all. Yes or no.
All three stared at you. You shifted under their attention, a bit out of your element, but ultimately sure. “Yes,” you breathed.
“Okay,” Namjoon simply replied with an approving nod. With a pleased smile that brought forth dimpled cheeks. But then he shifted towards you more, and the slight change in his stance seemed to completely change his demeanor. His intention. “What’s your safeword?”
You knew he knew it; knew he knew you did as well. The two of you had been together enough times for a rhythm to between you to form, so this repeating of superfluous information was likely solely for his brothers’ benefits.
“Cinnamon.”
“And if you can’t say it?”
“Tap you 3 times.”
“Good.” 
“Safeword?” Taehyung chuckled incredulously, eyes a little wide in surprise. “Well shit.”
“Yeah, and I know how to use it too, if you get out of line,” you teased, but your mind was already elsewhere. It didn’t matter that Tae was the one who would be actively playing with you today—you had spent enough time with Namjoon that you had apparently been conditioned. The blond had asked you your safeword, you repeated it to him, and so the scene had officially started. All of your previous unease ebbed away as you couldn’t help but focus instead on what you were all here for. 
Carefully, you set your glass down on the counter and moved to exit the kitchen, brushing against Taehyung on your way out and shooting a pointed look at him over your shoulder. “You ready?”
“Baby, you know I’m always ready,” he purred, jolted into action and eagerly trailing down the hallway after you. “I’ve just been waiting on you.”
You didn’t bother to turn to see if the others were following you. You knew they were, their very presence somehow making the hallway feel like it was shrinking, overstuffed. Still, you tried not to let that unnerve you, continuing on with purpose until you made it to your destination and were hovering awkwardly next to your bed. 
They all filed into the room, one by one, and you bit your lip, fully out of your element. Three handsome men had allowed you to lure them here, but now that they were? You had no idea what your next move was supposed to be.  
Luckily for you, Tae was more than happy to take initiative, immediately slinking up to your side and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. The gesture was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help but snort, and he simply grinned, pleased with himself for lessening your nerves, even if only a little. He reached for you without a second thought and you let him, eager to fall into more familiar territory. 
Taehyung’s large hands smoothed over your hips, your ass with clear familiarity. A finger curled under the top of your thigh highs, lightly snapping the elastic against your skin. “You really did this is for me, huh?”
The dark look in his eye had the breath catching in your throat. “Shut up,” you scoffed unconvincingly.
He tsked, the wicked curl of his lips ruining any illusion of disappointment. “You know I like it when you’re mean to me.” 
You could only blink in response. You hadn’t known that. Was he serious? Was this another level to his subjugation, or was he just pulling your leg? 
Before your brain had the opportunity to come up with a proper retort, Tae was reaching out a finger to tap the zipper of your sweatshirt, gaze focused on its slow, teasing sway. “So.”
Your brow lifted, an unspoken prompting. 
The swinging zipper almost slowed to a stop, and when he reached out this time, it was to lightly run his thumb over the metal, to slowly roll it between his fingers. You swallowed, the anticipation of what you knew to be coming only adding to the charged silence between you. Distractedly, the tip of his tongue swiped across his lips, drawing your gaze. “You invited me to play,” he finally continued, voice honeyed amber. Crushed velvet. 
As if he hadn’t been playing with you from the moment he entered your apartment. You tilted your head anyway—an invitation and a challenge. “Then let’s play.” 
A small smile touched his lips, clearly pleased that his teasing invoked yours. But he didn’t say anything else, his response simply to finally guide the zipper down its track. Leisurely, unwrapping you like a present and delighting in the underneath.  
And you had technically dressed yourself to be one, so you let him. Let him take his time so he could fully appreciate the swell of your breasts, the purposeful, flirty peek of your nipples through the scarlet lace. You wished you had had the time to properly do your hair and makeup and slip on the heels you had set aside just for the occasion so he could get your full intended effect, but your less than perfect appearance didn’t seem to dissuade Taehyung at all. No, he simply slid his hands under the fabric when he finally got impatient enough—fingers light and palms warm—and pushed the sweatshirt off your shoulders with eyes that were all pupil. His hungry gaze carefully roved your form, a lingering path from head to toe that made your skin tingle in its wake.  
His lips parted, tongue giving them another distracted swipe, and then he finally moved again, making his way to your dresser. Now that his broad form wasn’t blocking your view of the rest of the room, you were quickly reminded of the room’s other occupants. Seokjin and Namjoon still hovered near the doorway, quiet, but obviously also drinking in the sight of you now that they could see you properly. Your breath caught, not used to having so much obvious desire directed at you, the air so thick with it you could practically taste it, heady and syrupy.
A light scraping sound regained your attention, and when you turned your head, you realized Taehyung had pulled open a particular drawer—one that he had quickly became familiar with since the start of your arrangement. He pulled out the lube he was looking for, but was much more interested in something else in there, if the mischievous look on his face was any indicator. “What’s this?” he asked, mouth a delighted box, and before you could chastise him about going through your things without permission, he was already pulling out your wand vibrator. “You got a new toy?”
“It’s not new,” you huffed, slightly embarrassed despite everything. “I just usually keep it in the shower.”
You saw his Adam’s apple dip at that information. Saw the wheels turning behind his eyes before he was quickly shutting the drawer and headed towards the bed with his loot in hand. He sat on the edge and eagerly motioned for you to follow.
Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at the vibrator he had neglected to put away, but Taehyung just reached for your hand and gently pulled you towards him until you were close enough for him to properly guide onto his lap. “Don’t be like that,” he murmured against your neck, his hot breath against the skin inciting a shiver to run through you. “Gotta prep you for the show.”
Ah yes, the show. He had faced you away from him, so now it was impossible for you to forget your captive audience. At some point, Seokjin had pulled your office chair away from your desk, and now he was lounging across the room, in direct view of the bed. His legs were comfortably spread, almost as if it was an open invitation for you to crawl onto his lap instead. Namjoon, on the other hand, was casually leaning against the desk, arms crossed. Eyes dark.
Lips trailed up your neck, quickly regaining your attention. Taehyung pressed slow kisses into the sensitive skin, humming contentedly when you tilted your head to give him better access. His hands dragged up and down your stockinged legs, his exploration only pausing to playfully snap the garter at your thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, heat thrumming through your veins at the action. You felt him smirk, and then he was tactfully lifting your legs by the knees and hooking them around his own one by one. Easily spreading  your thighs by widening his own.
Easily revealing to your unsuspecting employers that your lingerie was crotchless.
The sudden display of your pussy had an immediate effect on the room, though no one said a word. The air was so charged with crackling energy that you shivered, almost breaking out in goosebumps at the onslaught of blatant desire. This close, it was quite easy for you to hear how Tae’s breath hitched, quite easy to interpret the excitement of his fingers, still compulsively tracing over the pattern of your stockings like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. Inexplicably, you still found yourself feeling a bit shy at the salacious attention you intentionally brought upon yourself, gaze darting to the floor for a few seconds before you finally chanced a look at the other two from beneath your lashes. Seokjin was busy unabashedly staring at your spread pussy, Adam’s apple bobbing, but Namjoon was unabashedly staring at you, your heart pounding when you locked eyes.
The spell was only broken when an impatient hand guided your head to the side, Taehyung demanding your full attention. After lapping against your pulse one last time, his mouth promptly switched course to your own,  the kiss sweet, but decidedly sloppy due to the angle. In any case, it was easy to quickly lose yourself in the warmth of his lips—at this point, it was all practically reflex—and you were so engrossed in the ebb of his tongue that you completely missed the rather foreboding buzzing in the room until something was being purposefully pressed against the most sensitive part of you.
“Shit,” you gasped, jerking in his hold. But it didn’t matter, because Tae’s other hand was gripping tight at your thigh, ensuring you could do nothing but squirm in his lap, breath quickening in anticipation. 
“Hm?” came his casual response. You knew from experience that he only had your vibrator on the first or second level, but the way his restless fingers still plucked at your stockings told you he was nowhere near done with you. Let’s play you had teased, and he clearly intended to do just that. 
Before your thoughts could linger too long on how intense this night was likely going to be, the vibrator was shifted slightly to the side, resting momentarily on your thigh so Taehyung could reach for the bottle of lube and give it a generous squeeze. 
“What’s your plan?” you breathed, the question inane even to your own ears. But the words escaped you before you could even properly process them, needing to say something in an effort to distract yourself from the muted vibrations that were still trickling up your leg to your core. 
Tae let out an amused exhale, clearly not fooled by your feigned nonchalance. He humored you anyway, despite your very obvious failings to suppress a shiver. “Gotta prep you,” he answered huskily, busy warming the lube with his fingers and making them visibly slick in the process.
You only had one moment—two—before you felt him sliding a finger across the seam of you. Slowly dragging the digit up from your entrance to your clit, ghosting over the bundle of nerves just enough to make your breath catch, then drifting his way back down again.
“Don’t tease,” you murmured. 
That earned you a chuckle in response. “Don’t you think you’re the one being the tease here? Texting out of the blue and wearing this—”another snap of your garter against your thigh, to punctuate his point—“when you knew damn well it would drive me crazy?”
“I don’t know. Sounds like I was being pretty direct to me.”
Another chuckle. “Fair.” And without further preamble, he slipped a finger in you, your relief leaving you in a shuddery exhale. “That better?”
“M-Much.”
“How about this?”
Another finger, plunging into your willing heat and making another relieved sigh escape you at the stretch. “We’re getting there.”
You didn’t have to be able to see him to know he was grinning, always one to be entertained by the easy banter between you. Tae didn't say anything, his response better communicated by a scrape of his teeth across the sensitive skin of your neck, settling to suck on your pulse point. 
You didn’t bother hiding your shiver this time, unconsciously slumping further against him, hips reflexively jerking forward to pull him in deeper.
Taehyung added a third finger, snapping and scissoring and pressing and curling. Seducing your body’s natural resistance until you really started to betray your need, hips canting greedily towards his thrusts, whines erupting from your throat.
“You’re enjoying this already, baby?” Tae cooed, delighted by how responsive you were being. “I’ve barely done anything.”
You just nodded distractedly, the familiar warmth that was building in your core and creeping down your legs making it hard to think about anything else. Still, you couldn’t help your gaze being drawn to the other occupants of the room, who seemed to be frozen in time, dutifully having not moved from their posts. Completely enraptured by the way their brother meticulously worked you open.
Tae breathed hot into the shell of your ear. “You like it when they watch you?” came his knowing whisper, a nip against the cartilage punctuating his point. “Like for them to see how good I make you feel? Hmmm? What if we show them how good you take this dick?”
Your pussy fluttered. Tae cussed under his breath, teased with the wet, pulsing grip of you and falling deeper into his own fantasy. “Fuckkk, you’re dripping all over my hand, baby. I would probably just slide right in, wouldn’t I?”
“Yesss,” you moaned. “I can take it, baby.”
“I know you can. With this perfect fucking pussy. But what if we played some more? Got you nice and juicy for me?”
“I’m always juicy,” you sassed back, but any more retorts died on your tongue when you saw him reach again for the momentarily forgotten vibrator. 
Tae’s arms circled around you, his chin slotting into the crook of your neck so he could get a better look of what he intended to do. The vibrator was turned up from its low rumble and pressed unceremoniously against you, and you yelped, jolting in his hold. It was too much, and you couldn’t help but writhe against him. Still, you welcomed the sudden intensity, desperate whines freely escaping you as you hurtled toward your peak. Tae only fingered you faster in response, the undoubtedly sloppy sounds drowned out by the vibrator. “I could slide right in, but I won’t cause it’s much more fun this way. Especially since we haven’t seen each other in a while. More fun for everybody if take our time, right, baby? So how about you cum on my fingers first, and then you can pick everywhere else on me you’d like to cum?”
You could only moan freely, just like how Tae liked. If you weren’t so distracted by the way he was fucking stars behind your eyelids, you would have noticed just how affected your spectators were becoming at your display. The shifting, the subtle rubbing over pants.
But as it were, you were completely preoccupied by your swift descent into madness, your hand desperately scrabbling for purchase before ultimately rooting itself in the hair at Taehyung’s nape to await your rapidly approaching release. Because at this point, your orgasm was inevitable, your thighs quivering with the sheer force of it, every atom of you hyper-focused on achieving that satisfying end goal. 
Until the sudden sound of a certain voice knocked you out of your trance. 
“Stop.”
You jolted as if touching a live wire, hand immediately wrapping around Taehyung’s wrist like a vice and yanking the vibrator away from you. 
For a few moments, the room was silent, save the rumble of the toy and your heavy breathing. But Taehyung was too baffled to let what just happened slide. “What’s the matter?”  
You nervously licked your lips, too frozen in Namjoon’s dark stare to answer his younger brother.
“You know better,” came the blond’s low admonishment, Seokjin turning to look at him in bewilderment. 
And you did know better—when you were with Namjoon, you were not allowed to cum without his express permission. It was a game the two of you played that you often lost, despite your valiant efforts. It just never occurred to you that you would still be expected to play in Namjoon’s general presence, whether he was the one touching you or not. 
Jittery with your aborted orgasm and nervous excitement, you looked away, your eyes automatically averted submissively to the floor in a last effort to assuage him. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you replied softly.
“Daddy?” Taehyung repeated incredulously. “What the fuck?” In his confusion, his hold on you slackened, and, nervous he wouldn’t take the hint otherwise, you used the opportunity to shift his fingers out of you and stumble forward on wobbly legs.
“Take your clothes off,” was your reply, breath labored and skin already veiled in a light sheen of sweat. You needed to distract him from asking too many questions right now. Needed to distract yourself from just how strongly your body was begging to fall apart.
Tae was still confused, but he didn’t need to be told twice. Off came his button-down shirt, each button popped open just roughly enough that you were surprised none of them ended up scattered across the floor in his haste. Off came his slacks, unzipped and then easily slipped down his slim hips. He paused when reaching for his underwear though, eyes narrowing at something behind you.
You didn’t even get the chance to turn around to investigate what had caught his attention before you felt it—the distinct feeling of someone hovering in your space, close enough you could feel his body heat radiating against you.  
“Hey sweetheart,” came a familiar husky voice, goosebumps rippling across your body at the feel of Seokjin’s hot breath ghosting up your neck. “Can I touch you?”
“Hey,” Tae scowled.
“_____?” Jin interrupted, still only millimeters away. A whisper away, but never touching, waiting for the only permission he truly needed—yours. Not Taehyung’s.  
Without a second thought, you leaned back against him, delighting in the feel of his body slotting so naturally into yours. “Yes,” you breathed, pressing your ass further into what could only be the hard jut of his cock.  
Soft, plush lips trailed up your neck instantly, large hands sliding over your hips and around your waist. You immediately melted into him, your body well-trained and eager for the pleasure it knew those lips and hands would deliver. 
“This wasn’t the deal,” Tae huffed, eyebrows scrunched in irritation as he finally slid off his boxer briefs. Drawn like a magnet, your eyes fell to the bounce of his freed cock, tip already shiny with precum.
Seokjin tutted distractedly, too busy nibbling along your jaw to give his youngest brother much attention. “You need to learn to share, Taehyung. The rest of society learned that concept when we were toddlers.”
“Whatever,” Tae grumbled, clearly not happy with the way the night was turning out. He only allowed his brother a few more seconds to have his way with you before he was reaching for your hands and walking you back towards the bed.  
You gasped in surprise when the world was suddenly off-kilter, your hands reflexively scrambling to hold onto Tae for balance, but it was only when the two of you landed on the mattress that you realized he had purposely tipped you into him, your chests flush. 
“Really, Taehyung?” you laughed, now conveniently in his embrace instead of Seokjin’s. 
Tae just grinned in response, so close that his nose brushed yours. Cheekily, his hands worked the flesh of your behind.
“I’ve been wondering where those have been coming from,” you heard Seokjin say behind you, and your face heated up in realization of what he was talking about, once again shy to be so on display and open for scrutiny. You had forgotten how mottled the skin of your ass still looked, and it was a little embarrassing to be called out on it. Time apart meant the bruises were near the end of their healing stage, but though you no longer sported marks of potentially alarming colors, their faded remnants still branded you in the distinct shape of a hand. 
“If you were wondering, why didn’t you ask,” you countered, tucking your face in Tae’s neck to help hide your flustered state. 
“Because that’s rude,” Jin answered easily, his own hand reaching over to gently smooth over the discolored skin. “And it’s really none of my business.”
“I think they’re pretty,” Taehyung cut in from below you. This close, you could feel the rumble of his declaration, could feel the heat of his stare. Of his want.
“So do I.”
A different voice, one that made an undeniably eager shiver run through you. Slowly, you lifted your head and turned, and there was Namjoon, still standing across from the bed, eyes all pupil.
The way he was looking at you…desire rippled through your whole body in response, your next words leaving your lips before you could even process them. 
“Are you going to touch me too, Daddy?”
The room was quiet, the question marinating long enough that the air became thick and heavy with the resulting tension. Just when you thought you might suffocate, Namjoon finally tilted his head. Slowly—a predator locked in on prey, playing with his meal simply for his own amusement—he stalked closer to the bed. He walked past Seokjin and made it all the way to the foot of the mattress, close enough to touch you if he so pleased.
The burn of his gaze was somehow stronger now that he was closer, a palpable energy that drew you like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t help but scramble upright when he was finally right in front of you, clambering to your knees despite Tae’s clear reluctance to let you go.
“Do you want me to?” Namjoon asked passively. He looked down at you, seemingly unimpressed by how eagerly you knelt on the mattress, just waiting for him to join you on it. “You already have enough people taking care of you. Are you really that greedy?”
“Yes,” you shivered, the action involuntary but wanting. “Want you too, Daddy.”
“Hm.” The single syllable was dismissive, but your previous time spent with Namjoon had taught you not to take that at face value. That you had to have patience, that if you simply waited him out, you would always eventually get what you wanted.
As if proving your point, Namjoon silently considered you for a few more seconds before his eyebrow finally raised in challenge. “Open,” he demanded. 
Your jaw dropped instantly, tongue out, and he smiled, pleased at your obedient response.  
You weren’t sure you had the energy to be bratty to him today when his brothers were still in the mix too. 
“Good,” Namjoon cooed, all dimples and boy next door. The boy next door who firmly grasped your chin, lifting your head a little and leaning down. But though your eyelashes fluttered in preparation for the slot of his mouth against yours, it never came. Namjoon paused, slanted eyes quietly observing you, then spit in your open mouth instead.
“Jesus,” came Taehyung’s awed reply from behind you, but you were too busy trying not to whimper, thighs squeezing together with sudden want. Namjoon hadn’t told you you could swallow, so you didn’t, drool starting to collect until it overflowed and dribbled down your jaw. 
“Very good,” Namjoon murmured, and this time, he did lean down to kiss you, all wet and sloppy. You eagerly pushed further into his space, blood thrumming with your need for more, but he pulled away before you could get too carried away. He cleared his throat, lips pink and spit-slicked. “Gonna keep being a good girl for us today?”
You immediately nodded, a thrill going through you at the way the action rapidly made his expression steel over. He tsked condescendingly. “Now, now, you know better than to not speak when spoken to.”
“I’m sorry Daddy. I promise I’ll be good.”
“Well, that definitely answers the mystery bruises.” It was Seokjin, now behind you. Somehow you hadn’t noticed him discard his shirt and climb onto the bed, too caught in Namjoon’s spell. You felt his hands drifting across your waist again, roaming up to cup your breasts and lightly pinch at your nipples through the lace. You whimpered, arching eagerly into his touch.
“Oh come on,” Taehyung whined. A turn of your head produced him, naked and sulking in the middle of the bed. “It was supposed to be my turn.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh at his cute pout, dutifully extracting yourself from Jin’s hold to crawl your way towards the youngest brother. “Don’t worry, baby. I know how to multitask.”
He greedily grabbed you as soon as you were in reach, holding you tight to his chest and plopping back onto the bed so you were once again on top of him, knees straddling his hips. You giggled again at his antics, flattered by his sudden possessiveness, and Tae playfully nipped at your collarbone in retaliation. 
The bed dipped behind you, and then there was Seokjin again, undeterred by Tae’s petulant behavior. “Not only are you bad at sharing, but you’re only thinking about yourself,” he scoffed, grabbing your hips without preamble. “What about _____?”
Taehyung immediately bristled beneath you. 
“It’s okay,” you tried to reassure, but before you could properly defend him, you suddenly found yourself face down and ass up, the sudden appearance of a tongue swiping through your slit rendering you shuddery and brain dead. “Fuck. Jin—”
You felt Seokjin’s smirk against you. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said huskily, hot breath ghosting over your most private of parts. “Couldn’t help myself. You dressed my meal up so pretty.”
That was fair, you supposed. That he made proper use of the easy access your lingerie provided, that he gave himself the opportunity to admire the tiny lacy hearts on your garter belt up close. But Seokjin didn’t allow himself to preen for very long, his focus immediately turning back to the task at hand. Laving hot and slow, your whole body tingling down to your toes.
Unconsciously, you pushed back further into his face, and Jin hummed approvingly, massaging your asscheeks, large hands spreading them apart so he could get as close to you as humanly possible. His enthusiasm has always been so fucking sexy, and you knew he wasn’t playing it up for theatrics when the slurping sounds started. You were that turned on, still frustrated from being led to the edge of the proverbial cliff and not allowed to jump, and Seokjin was more than happy to help himself to the honey he was coaxing from between your thighs. 
A haze was starting to take over you, completely focused on how good he was eating you out, on how hot you were, sweat and desire prickling your skin. Your hips mindlessly circling while you vaguely tried not to drool on Taehyung’s chest. 
Not that Tae seemed to mind much, hands idly roaming whatever stretch of skin he could touch, content to watch how your expression twisted and eyes glazed over as lust easily towed you under.
Seokjin pulled back a bit, chuckling at your whines of protest when he did so. But the familiar click of a top being popped open shut you up, lifting your head and looking over your shoulder to confirm your suspicions. The lube was a bit cold when it hit your asshole, and Jin wasn’t shy with the amount he squeezed out. His eyes were completely blown, enraptured by its slow decent, watching the lube trail through your pubic hair and down your slit. A distracted tongue swept across his lips, completely focused on sliding his fingers through the slick and making everything somehow even more wet. 
You shivered at his touch, thighs twitching as his long fingers smoothed the lube over your bundle of nerves in sure, purposeful circles. He leaned in again, tongue blazing a hot, meandering trail up the inside of your thigh and giving the sensitive skin there a playful nip before his fervent licks returned. Tongue slipping down to caress your clit, wandering back up to dip into your throbbing cunt, and dragging back down again. 
It was on one of these passes that Seokjin accidentally drifted a bit too high, your undulating hips causing him to lap over your asshole instead. You moaned, loud, and he immediately froze. 
It was clear neither of you had been expecting that reaction. But while you could only describe the look on his face as light surprise, you couldn’t help but duck your head in embarrassment.
“What’s the matter?” Taehyung breathed into your hair, wondering what halted the activities.
You weren’t really sure what to say, now embarrassed by your embarrassment. But it turned out you didn’t have to say anything, Seokjin curiously testing the waters by leaning in and placing a chaste kiss against your rim. When you didn’t do anything but suck in a breath, his tongue dipped out again for a tentative lick. You shuddered, ass reflexively bucking towards him instead of pulling away, and that was all the confirmation he needed. His hands palmed your asscheeks again, spreading them open to give himself more room to press his tongue against you more confidently, and you trembled in response.
It was a foreign sensation, but not bad. You technically hadn’t marked this as a no when signing your contract, but it never even crossed your mind that getting your booty ate would be a very real possibility. You weren’t against assplay per se—you simply had never experienced it before. And never in a million years would you have expected it to feel like this. 
“Mmmm, that’s good,” you couldn’t help but whimper. Electricity licked up your spine when his sloppy tongue slowly circled around the tight ring of muscle. Unbidden, your hand reached back, gliding through his hair before rooting itself and pulling in an attempt to get him impossibly closer to you. 
Seokjin hummed approvingly at the your enthusiasm, the sound almost sounding like he was blowing bubbles with the way you were now shoving his face between your asscheeks. Leaning somehow further into it, he ate you out with a vigor that told you he was clearly pleased you were using him to get yourself off. You melted into his ministrations, a whine falling from your lips when he gently slipped his sinful tongue inside you, the foreign feeling making your toes curl in unexpected pleasure. 
You were getting worked up. With nothing more than his mouth, Seokjin was easily restoking the blazing fire within you that only minutes before had been forced to embers. You were getting worked up, and the more you moaned and gyrated against him, the more Taehyung’s fingers twitched restlessly against your skin. If you had been in your right mind, you would have noticed his rising agitation and wouldn’t have been surprised when he suddenly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and pulled you away from his brother. Instead, you blinked at him dazedly, pelvises flush after momentum had you inadvertently scooting further up his body.  
“I’ve shared enough,” he growled, irritated. “It’s my turn now.” Another pull, and you were back on his lap, his leaking erection grinding pointedly against your slick folds. “C’mere, baby—fucking sit it on it.” 
You were dazed, already pretty fucked out even though things were just getting started. The constant influx of pleasure was striking all your coherent thought, unable to understand anything other than finally being able to cross the finish line. And you knew from experience that Taehyung’s massive dick was a great way to get there, so you didn’t mind at all when he continued to maneuver you as he pleased, large hands canting your hips at a proper angle to receive him. 
Your breath hitched when he finally sunk into your fervid body. You were so turned on and wet at that point that it didn’t hurt the slightest, but he was so big that the very pressure of him forcing your walls apart caused your eyes to roll back in your head, your nails pressing crescent moons into the caramel of his skin. “Ungh—”    
“Shit,” Tae groaned, fingers tightening on your thighs at the wet grip of you. “Feel so fucking good, baby. Always so fucking good.”
He was buried balls deep, too on edge to give you any more than a few seconds to adjust before he was bucking wildly into you, easily scraping against your spongy nerves with every unforgiving stroke. You couldn’t do much more than take it, unfiltered moans readily escaping you. Hot and low, like they were generated deep in your pussy and Taehyung was hard at work fucking them up and out of your mouth.
You were so worked up at this point that you knew you weren’t going to last much longer, your walls tightening more and more by the second, your whole body trembling in preparation of the inevitable.
 “_____,” Namjoon snapped.
It took some effort to lift your head from where you had buried it in Tae’s neck, startled into blearily looking up to meet the middle brother’s steely gaze. Your mind raced, flustered and trying to understand how you had somehow forgotten about him. When his lips curled with a whisper of a smirk, it instantly dawned on you that him fading into the background had been entirely by design.
Namjoon had allowed you to be distracted by his brothers. Had allowed them to have all the fun while he quietly watched your slow, uncontrollable descent into carnality. Because he knew that all he had to do was wait, and you would inevitably disobey him.
And then his fun would start.
You had played your part in his little game, cockily swaggered your way right into his trap with thigh highs and a smile. Too naive to notice that the situation had been rigged from the start, and now that everything was in motion, it was far too late to save yourself from your oncoming reckoning. 
You were gasping, the pistoning of Taehyung’s cock setting all of your nerves alight and making it hard not to meet him thrust for thrust, trapped in meeting Namjoon’s stare through your wet lashes. He had moved to stand at the foot of the bed, close enough to touch, and he was the only person in the room who was still, bafflingly, fully-dressed.
“Please,” you babbled, too far gone to even know who your begging was directed towards. “Please, I—” Your body spazzed violently, only contained by Tae’s bruising grip as he relentlessly continued to plow into you. “Ohhh godddd! Fuckkk—ah, ahhhh—”
Against your best efforts, your cunt locked down, hard. So hard you forgot to breathe, pleasure and relief finally flooding your veins as you stuffed your face into Tae’s neck to ride it out, bucking and whining and incoherent.
Taehyung made a loud, choked noise, the feeling of you pulsing around him throwing him further into his trance. “Fuck yeah,” he growled, fingers digging into your thighs punishingly. Drilling into you harder, your release heightening his desperation for his own. Biology making him single-minded, manic, even when you started to mewl in oversensitivity. “Squeezing me so tight. Cream me good, baby. Fuck.” 
You continued to tremble, nothing more at this point than sparking nerve endings. Tae lifted his head a little to lick into your awaiting mouth, kissing you wet and wild and desperate while still plunging deep inside you.  
But even though you did nothing to attempt to control the torrent of whines freely spilling from your tongue, in the back of your mind, you still had the good sense to be nervous. Because even without seeing his face, you already knew Namjoon was pissed. 
You had failed.
As if confirming your thoughts, fingers wrapped around your hair and pulled, naturally ripping your lips from Taehyung’s and forcing your head to lift. With nowhere to hide, you were forced to meet the full intensity of Namjoon’s glare. 
“What did I say,” he demanded darkly, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Your blood pounded excitedly.
“Cut her some slack, Namjoon,” came Jin’s mild reply from behind you. Your eyes widened, not expecting his dismissive tone to go over very well. 
Namjoon didn’t acknowledge his older brother, instead focusing his attention on his younger. A carefully controlled tempest that was moments away from unleashing its wrath. “Taehyung. Move.”
The swivel of Tae’s hips slowed, but didn’t stop. He was too on edge, too close to joining you in bliss. “I—g-give me a minute, hyung—”
“Move.” 
You could feel just how reluctant Tae was to comply—his rutting finally stopped, but his hips still instinctually twitching in a primal need to keep fucking you. Still, something in his brother’s tone made his protest cut off in his throat, and after a few labored, frustrated breaths, he obediently slipped out of you. 
You whimpered at the loss, your toes curling at the resulting friction. Between the cum that had long been leaking from you and dribbling down your thighs and the mess Tae’s cock was making in his excitement, it was hot and sticky where your bodies slotted together, and you couldn’t help the way you senselessly started to grind against him, lashes fluttering at the feeling.  
Namjoon scoffed at your clear desperation. “You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” he snapped, grip still firm in your hair. “For him to cum inside you.”
You shivered at the thought, a little embarrassed that you were so obvious. “Yes, Daddy,” you murmured, releasing a shuttering breath when you felt Tae’s slick cock jump against your stomach at your admission.
“Well you’ve been bad,” Namjoon replied slowly, as you weren’t very bright, “so you don’t get to have what you want.” He took a step forward, legs knocking into the edge of the bed, now only a breath away, and you licked your lips, mentally preparing for what you knew would come.
But before he could get any closer to you—before Taehyung could even slide from beneath you—there were once again hands on your hips.
“Hey!” Tae snapped irritably, but whatever he had to say was drowned out by your surprised, rather pathetic choking when, with a delicious roll of his hips, Seokjin unexpectedly sank inside your pliant body, thoroughly making himself at home exactly where Tae had been forced to vacate. You had been so focused on Namjoon that you somehow missed the weight shifting behind you, the telltale rustling of clothing as he pushed is sweatpants down his hips enough to free his cock so he could stuff you the hilt. 
You had been saved by the eldest Kim, at least for now. But for how long would he really be able to delay your punishment?
Since he was still holding you by the hair, you could easily see the emotions flicker across Namjoon’s face at his older brother butting in, but his expression quickly settled into something mirroring cool indifference.
You knew better. Namjoon was a patient man, but you doubted he would let your disobedience slide so easily. 
Seemingly uncaring of either of his brothers’ vexation, Seokjin rode your ass, hips rolling forward in constant waves, strokes long and deep and pointed. Clearly wanting to keep you mewling for him. 
And as you did just that, you rapidly realized that saving you from Namjoon’s wrath had never been his intention. No, he simply liked you just like this, whiny and shivery and too fucked out to care that you were drooling and desperate. 
“You feel it, sweetheart?” he asked, voice melodic and sweet. Leaning over to press plump lips up your spine and sucking on a rather sensitive spot at the back of your neck. 
“Yesss,” you whined. You could feel everything, could feel the ripple of your ass every time his hips slammed against it, could feel every ridge of his cock that scraped against your insides. Sparks shot through you after every stroke, your clit forced to drag across Tae’s stomach with the force. “Fuck, you’re so big and deep, fuck, fuck.”
Seokjin just hummed, playing your body like a fiddle and pleased by how it was responding to him. Breath stuttering, toes curling, fingers gripping the sheets.
But despite how good he was making you feel, you weren’t too fucked out to overlook Namjoon this time. No, this time forgetting him was impossible, the middle brother doing nothing to hide his massive presence. He towered over you, intently watching you get railed by his older brother, and the barely suppressed fury you could sense radiating off him was making your cunt throb and head spin. 
“I’m sorry, D-Daddy,” you stuttered, everything tingling at the look he fixed you with in response. “I couldn’t help it.”
“Are you?” he asked lowly, a tic in his jaw. He let the question marinate for a few moments, let you simmer beneath his intense stare. Just when you felt the overwhelming compulsion to apologize again, he finally reached for you, a single finger lifting your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze directly. With a patronizing tilt of his head, he popped open the button on his pants. “Then make it up to me.”
You were already pushing yourself to your hands and knees, desperate to please. Taehyung’s hands drifted up your sides to steady you, your body trembling from the way Seokjin still reamed into you, undeterred. You reached out for the band of Namjoon’s pants, trying to get to the important bits, but he simply tutted and smacked your hand away.
“Mouth,” he said simply, the single word full of derision.
So you leaned forward again, this time using the tip of your nose to part his fly and give you proper access to his clothed cock. He was thick and swollen already, straining against the material, and you felt him stir with interest when you mouthed at him through the fabric. Coquettish licks lapping hot against the length of him and making his hips reflexively shift forward, unconsciously chasing the stimulation. You licked and sucked until there was a noticeable wet patch, doing your best to show that your apology was sincere and give him your full attention. 
But that was hard to do when his brothers were busy giving you their full attention.
Seokjin was in a trance, fingers sinking into your thighs so he could properly hammer into you. Thrusts steady and coaxing your pussy to leak its praises, your thighs sticky with your essence. 
Taehyung, on the other hand, was getting noticeably antsy beneath you, fingers increasingly twitching against your damp skin the longer his brothers got more of your attention. You looked down, and the furrow of his brow and downturn of his lips were your last clues to his growing jealousy before he took action, hand reaching up to drag through the mess you were making before his thumb sought your clit, rolling and pinching. You bucked and squealed, the extra stimulation rocking you to your core and making your walls pulse dangerously enough that you found yourself squirming to escape him, grabbing Tae’s wrist for the second time that night in an act of self-preservation.
He was undeterred, rerouting his focus to your chest instead. With impatient hands, he yanked on the cups of your bodysuit, a concerning ripping noise immediately filling the room at the action. Before you could even say anything, he was already lifting his head to eagerly bite and suckle on your newly freed tits, tongue curling around a pebbled nipple and mumbling “I’ll buy you another one.”
Switching from one erogenous zone to another did nothing to quell your desire, but at least the stimulation wasn’t as intense. This you could safely enjoy, lashes fluttering, chest inadvertently pushing further into his face in silent encouragement.
And encourage you did, Taehyung creating enough suction with his mouth to properly burst capillaries. Contentedly littering your skin with marks you allowed, comfortable in knowing this was a region easily covered by your clothes. 
Determined not to lose focus, you leaned forward again to continue giving Namjoon your full attention, trying to strategize the best way to get at him without using your hands. But either Namjoon finally decided to take pity on you or he was getting impatient too, because it was his own hands that reached down, only bothering to disturb his waistband enough to free his already leaking cock.
You didn’t know if it was a conditioned response from your past escapades or simply the extremely sexy sight of him giving himself a few firm, confident pumps. Either way, you felt it when you started to salivate, aching to properly taste him.
Your enthusiasm must have shown on your face, because the blond man simply smirked down at you knowingly, thumb slowly running over a prominent vein and further smearing his own mess around. “Well?” he prompted, almost sounding bored. You knew he wasn’t. That he was rock hard and dribbling precum, that his eyes were hooded yet laser-focused on the way his brothers devoured you—those were clues enough. Still, you couldn’t help the fire his feigned disinterest lit low in your belly, desperate to please him.      
You started low, turning your head so you could playfully tongue first at his balls before making the long trek up the massive length of him, taking care not to accidentally involve your teeth from the way Seokjin’s thrusts were rocking you forward. Finally, you took him in your mouth, suckling on the weeping head. Humming contentedly at the salty taste and meeting his blown eyes from beneath your lashes.
Namjoon’s lips parted, but he didn’t say anything, hips twitching forward when you pressed your tongue into his slit.
You didn’t notice at first. To be fair, you were plenty preoccupied with everything else going on, with all other sensations. So you didn’t notice Taehyung’s hand drifting over your hip until he was cupping one of your asscheeks, fingers teasing further inward. 
Before you could say anything, a finger sunk itself into your cunt, right next to where Jin was still plowing into you. You groaned, eyes rolling back at the added stretch, but the oldest brother wasn’t as pleased by the intrusion.    
“Taehyung,” he said gruffly, voice deep with irritation and thinly-veiled hunger. But Tae just pumped the long digit into you a few times and then slowly backtracked, lightly trailing the slick back up the cleft of your ass.
“Relax,” came Tae’s mellow reply, and when he started circling a questioning finger around your rim, you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or Seokjin. 
Still, you shivered, breath stuttering when you realized where this was going. When the finger did nothing more than circle and lightly press against you, you released Namjoon’s cockhead from between your lips, eyes fluttering. “Yes,” you breathed hot against Namjoon’s crotch, understanding what Tae was wordlessly asking you. 
A glance down produced Taehyung, eyes all pupil, tongue lolling thoughtfully in his mouth as he watched you tremble above him, tits rippling and swaying from Seokjin’s force. Finger mindlessly continuing the massaging of your hole. He locked eyes with you, making sure he understood, and then slowly started pressing the slick digit into your asshole.
You whimpered, fighting against your instinct to clamp down on him. Relax. Relax. It didn’t hurt exactly—was just pressure where you weren’t used to having any. And Tae made sure to go at a glacial pace, made sure to keep massaging your insides, to help you acclimate to the intrusion. 
Distantly, you felt Jin’s thrusts slow to something much more languid, and you had a feeling the way your body was opening up for his youngest brother was more than a little distracting.
“Good?” Tae asked shakily, sinking into you bit by bit. 
“Yes,” you slurred, completely fucked out. Tae’s always had large hands with long, elegant fingers, and right now, when he kept going further and further in, you were becoming privy to just how long they actually were. Your eyes threatened to roll back when his last knuckle finally breached you, and when he gave you a cursory tap after a few seconds, you had to swallow a moan. 
Rather affectionately, Namjoon started caressing your face, bringing your attention back to him. Dazed, you put him back in your mouth, continuing to suck him and trying not to think about how Seokjin was revving his pace back up and Taehyung was tapping your insides in tandem. Namjoon just smiled softly down at you, and it was so sweet that you almost don’t see what happened next coming, too preoccupied with everything else that was going on. Gently, his hand drifted up—and gripped you securely by the hair, cock suddenly surging down your throat. You immediately gagged, throat repeatedly convulsing around him, and he grunted appreciatively at the feeling before pulling all the way out. Cheeks still sweetly dimpling at how wrecked you were.
And wrecked was the only way to describe you. You were gasping, jaw glistening with spit. Eyes watering and whole body twitching from all the relentless stimulation.
Namjoon only gave you a few seconds to gain your bearings before a pull of your hair had your head snapping back. Before his cock was pushing back into your panting mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat this time, taking stuttered breaths from your nose when his fucking began in earnest. Tried your best to ignore the way your jaw threatened to lock from trying to accommodate the sheer girth of him.
It was a lot. You were feeling sensations from so many areas at once—ass, tits, mouth, cunt—that your brain was absolutely swirling trying to figure out which brother’s ministrations it should be focusing on. And though the pleasure pumping through you was borderline unbearable, you couldn’t even let that overflow of emotion out, your wails stuck bubbling in your chest because you were too busy lewdly gargling on Namjoon’s cock.
You remembered, all those months ago when you’d first been considering whether you should take this job, how you'd poured yourself another glass of wine and reread the contact for the nth time thinking well, I guess I do have three holes. That’s certainly convenient. 
Now that it was happening, however—now that all three of your holes were stuffed and both your mouth and your pussy were dribbling and messy and straining with effort—now, it was nothing short of intense. Nothing hurt, but you were so completely and entirely overwhelmed by all of the feeling that you thought you might just simply burst, your nerve endings crackling free and raining over the room like fireworks.  
It’s too much. It was too much, but right when you were starting to consider giving Namjoon two taps on the wrist—a metaphorical yellow—he backed off on his own, easing some of the pressure. And suddenly your mouth was free, a string of saliva still connecting you to his glistening cock before the tension of him stepping back eventually made it snap.  
Namjoon had eased some of the pressure, but he couldn’t stop more from surging forward in its place. Your body could only take so much of their tortuous teasing before it succumbed to its baser instincts, and it seemed you had finally reached your boiling point. In a trance, you pressed your hips backwards to meet Seokjin’s next stroke, forcing him deeper inside you and making you both shudder. And that small action was all the encouragement he needed, his primal instincts screaming at him to ruin you.
Drilling into you with new purpose, Jin fucked the remaining breath out of your lungs, staccatoed bursts of ah ah ah pouring from your drooling mouth. Panting like an animal in heat, moaning so wantonly that you would be embarrassed if you weren’t already so completely braindead with pleasure. 
“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathed, watching your rapid unraveling in amazement. “You’re so fucking hot. Fuck.”
Before even realizing what was happening, you finally shattered around him, your bones liquifying at the intensity and causing you to collapse on Tae, writhing and choking into his neck.
“There you go,” Jin encouraged, words wobbling as he tried to weather the force of how tightly your walls were squeezing him.
Taehyung was curling his finger within you to lengthen your orgasm, was absently rubbing your back to guide you through it. “So perfect,” he whispered, lips fondly brushing against your temple while you shook.
When it finally ended you were left twitching and sensitive, too dizzy from the sheer force of your climax to register the thunder rolling across Namjoon’s face.
His brothers did, though.
An audible squelch filled the room when, without warning, Seokjin pulled completely out of you. Confused, you looked over your shoulder at him, only to suddenly find yourself lifted and tilted, Taehyung surging upright and taking you with him. Unprepared to catch yourself, your back easily hit the mattress, now finding yourself looking up at the three brothers who hovered over you.   
“Hmmm.” Namjoon pretended to think, tone calm but eyes steely. “I could have sworn I specifically told you not to do that.”
“You did,” Jin cut in mildly, looking between the two of you curiously.
Your eyes widened, unprepared for this turn of events. You never would have pegged Jin as such an instigator, but apparently he was very interested in seeing the consequences of your continued disobedience.
Your betrayal must have shown on your face, because Seokjin’s lips pursed in amusement. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckled, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against your lips. “You’ve been so good for me, but we have to be fair. And unlike Taehyung, I know how to share.”
“Am I or am I not sharing right now?” Tae griped, unamused by the dig. But you were no longer paying those two any attention, your focus now fully on Namjoon and the leisurely way he was now stripping out of his shirt.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you hedged, knowing before you even said the words that they would do jack shit to appease him. “It just felt too good…”
Namjoon raised an unimpressed eyebrow, throwing his t-shirt on the floor as if it offended him. “All you keep saying is sorry,” he mused. Down went his pants and underwear, kicked out of his way. His knee hit the mattress, Taehyung shifting to the side so Namjoon could finally stalk over to where you lay, fucked open and wet. Cautiously, you met his stare, the breath halting in your lungs when you recognized the retribution that was undoubtedly about to come. 
“But sorry means nothing if you don’t modify your behavior,” he tsked, eyes darkening. “So. I don’t believe you.”
That was all the warning you got before he was crowding into your space, grabbing you by the ankles and hooking them over his shoulders. Caging you in with his body, pressing close enough that his cock easily slid over the mess of your cunt, making you mewl at the sensation.
And that involuntary reaction didn’t seem to help your case with Namjoon. “More?” he scoffed, seemingly displeased, though the way he rocked his length through the seam of you told a different story. “After all that, you still want more?”
You were exhausted, thighs still quivering from your last orgasm. But you couldn’t help the way the weight of his body and the slide of his cock were causing your pussy to pulse. “Yes, Daddy,” you breathed, angling your hips down so you could deliciously meet him on his upstroke.
“And it’s all about what you want, isn’t it?” he mocked, spearing you to the hilt in one go. You choked at the intrusion, not expecting him to enter you so suddenly. At this point, you were fully prepped enough to take him, but, like his brothers, Namjoon was still a lot to take all at once.
Particularly when he had already made up his mind that the best way to punish you was with his cock.
You quickly gathered his gameplay from the immediate way he started rutting into you, not giving you any time to adjust or catch your breath. Simply railing you into the mattress, your legs over his shoulders ensuring he hit deep enough for you to feel it in your throat.
“Fuckkk,” you groaned, fingers curling in the sheets, biting down on your lip enough to taste metal. “Fuck fuck—”
“What?” he taunted, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Making sure he scraped your g-spot on every thrust. “This is what you wanted, remember? And it’s all about what you want.”
“Yes, Daddy.” You could already feel yourself ready to clamp down again, your extremely sensitive pussy overreactive to any and all stimulation. “I want it, I want it, yesss—”
He pressed impossibly closer, bending you enough that you felt the burning strain in your legs, and that did the trick. Before you could nervously start to ponder whether you were flexible enough for what he wanted to do, you were cumming, hard, back attempting to bow with the force of it but only succeeding in making your whole body lock up and your vision blur.
Namjoon didn’t slow down during your climax, and he certainly didn’t slow down after. He fucked you like a machine, undeterred by how your pulsing walls tried to suck him in and keep him there. Undeterred by how you hopelessly whined and squirmed in overstimulation. And when you suddenly heard a familiar buzzing noise, there was nothing you could do but meet his intense gaze with wide, alarmed eyes.
“What?” he demanded, pressing your long-forgotten wand vibrator right on your clit and making you immediately jerk. The caramel of his skin was already glistening and beading with sweat, but he seemed long from tired. “You think you can cum on everbody’s dick but mine?”
It was too much, the near animalistic pace of his fucking paired with how high he had turned the vibrator making your hands shoot up, scrabbling along his biceps in a panicked response, your body now entirely on autopilot, desperately trying to save itself from its fate. 
“Please,” you heard yourself beg, choking at the intensity. Legs jerking uselessly on his shoulders, nails scratching marks down his skin.
But the word that would make him stop never passed your lips. And so he continued to ignore your unsuccessful struggling, fucking you right back to orgasm, this time somehow even stronger than the last and stealing all air from your lungs.
He felt it, of course. Felt exactly how hard you were squeezing him, the tight grip of your pussy evoking the grit of his teeth. 
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to milk me,” he growled, moving the vibrator away from you just enough for you to suck in a breath. “Come on, take this dick since you want it so bad. Take it!” 
And you had no choice but to take it, trying your best not to black out as he forced the coil within you to snap, again and again. You were shrieking, but you couldn’t even perceive your own actions anymore, swept completely by his unforgiving undertow of pain-lined pleasure. Namjoon was fucking you stupid, scrambling your brain as easily as if it were an egg, forcing you to your most primal of reactions, your most basest of self. Thrashing beneath him, desperate tears trickling down your cheeks, spit freely trickling from your wailing mouth.
It felt neverending, this exquisite torture, and just when you were starting to get distressed about how much longer you would be able to take it, Namjoon’s thrusts started to turn sloppy.
“This is all you wanted, right?” he panted, hips stuttering. A welcome warning for what was soon to come. His focus rapidly shifted from your orgasm to his own, and the way he tossed the still buzzing vibrator to the side was nothing short of impatient.
You blinked up blearily at him, the reduction in stimulation helping you slowly return to your body after being stuck the stratosphere. 
“Wanted my nut? Agreed to fuck all of us at once just so you could get more of it, isn’t that right, babygirl?”
His intense stare told you he expected an answer, but all you could do was whine in response, hesitant to admit it. Pussy pulsing at the very visual he had conjured up. Warily, you glanced at the other two brothers, nervous at what you might find there, but one look quickly evaporated all uncertainty.
Though they had moved out of the way for Namjoon, they hadn’t moved far—still close enough for you to reach out and touch, still close enough for them to hover over you and get a close view of the action. Still close enough for you to see understanding dawn across Seokjin’s face, to see pure astonishment take over Taehyung’s.
Namjoon spotted your division in attention and was having none of it, a hand guiding your jaw until you were focusing on him again. “You like being a dirty cumslut,” he prompted mildly, your heart racing in response. Slipping a thumb between your plush lips and humming approvingly when you sucked on it, tongue twirling. “Don’t you, baby?”
“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned hoarsely, the very admission making your whole body vibrate. The continued hammering of your sensitive core making you want to reflexively squirm away, though Namjoon’s heavy body ensured you had nowhere to go.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I like being a dirty cumslut.”
Taehyung whimpered, and it was easy for you to deduce from the rapid movement you could see from the corner of your eye that he was jacking himself off while watching you. Well and truly done with delaying his own pleasure.
And from the rather manic way Namjoon was looking at you, he was obviously on the same wavelength. “And do you know how much cumsluts love it?” A quick swipe of his tongue over his panting lips. “They want it in them. On them.”
“Please, Daddy,” you begged, nearly sobbing at the strength your want. Your head whipping around, desperately pleading with all three of them. “Please let me have it! I’ve been so good, please—”
“Holy shit,” Tae groaned, eyes rolling back in his head. “Okay baby, I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you it all. You want it all?”
“Yes. Yes, yes yes yes yesyesyes—”
Abruptly, Taehyung was pushing forward into your space, hovering more directly over you and treating you to the sight of how those long fingers were furiously pumping his cock. He was panting, a prominent vein in his neck visible because of his efforts, little whines escaping him as he viciously worked his slick length.
There was shifting on your other side, and your focus immediately turned to Seokjin. He looked back at you dazedly, lips parted, chest flushed at your attention.  
“Please?” you whimpered, fully aware how pathetic you must have looked but not giving a single shit. So long as you got what you wanted. You needed them to give you what you wanted.
The oldest immediately softened at your pleading, always so willing and eager to please you. “Of course,” he breathed, hand already moving over himself with long, tight strokes. He shivered, hips reflexively jumping forward at the stimulation. “W-Where?”
A shift, and Namjoon was pulling back from you, maneuvering your legs back to the bed and sitting back on his haunches. Despite this new position, he never let his cock leave the comfort of your walls, continuing to hammer into you, jaw locked in concentration, balls smacking into your ass with a lewd slapping sound. Focused only on racing to the finish line.
“Anywhere,” you shuddered. “Everywhere, just…” Your entire body was on fire and you could barely take it, the anticipation of what was about to happen making you writhe over the sheets, whimpering pathetically. Your tongue lolling out your gasping mouth, an eager target.
And then finally—finally—you were given what you asked for. Loud, uncontrolled moans spilled from Taehyung’s lips, swiftly becoming desperate before one last squeeze of his cock had him cumming, his release spraying hot all over your breasts and slowly trailing through your cleavage. 
You moaned with him, delight buzzing through your veins at being marked so intimately, and the sound seemed to trigger Namjoon, who immediately pulled out of you, expertly pumped himself a few times, and then ejaculated with a long, drawn-out grunt. After essentially edging himself for most of the night, the amount of cum he gifted you was more than generous, most of it painting your pussy in long ropes, but some of it inevitably ending up on your belly with how aggressively he was jerking himself off.      
The sight of it all, the feeling, was so unbearably hot that you almost came untouched, eyes rolling back, pussy pulsing with interest despite how exhausted you were. And your obvious pleasure was what finally set off Jin, teeth digging into his lower lip while his seed spurted white across the lower half of your face and slid down your jaw, some of it delightedly landing on your awaiting tongue. 
You hummed contentedly, immediately licking the thick, heady remnants from your lips so you wouldn’t waste a drop. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands slowly and sensually trailing over your own body. Basking in it all. Purposely smearing their mess over wider stretches of skin—pinching gently at your nipples, dragging your fingers between your tits, gliding over your hips, drawing light, sticky figure eights around your clit before dipping a bit lower and slipping two cum-coated digits inside your hot walls. Your hips twitched, lazily chasing the intrusion on reflex. Simply enjoying being so completely and utterly satisfied.   
You were so transfixed and in your own world that you completely forgot about the three other people still in the room, greedily feasting on the undeniably filthy way you savored what they gave you. You weren’t sure how long they let you be, but it was a voice finally breaking the silence that slowly lured back to reality.          
“_____?” 
The voice was gentle, yet deep, the spell cast over you immediately broken at the sound of it. It was Namjoon, hovering over you again, lips quirking into a small smile as he watched the fog disperse from your eyes. “How do you feel?”
You let out a satisfied sigh, pulling your fingers out of your pussy with hum. “Tired,” you admitted, voice raspy from the activities. “But amazing.”
His smile widened, cheeks dimpling. “I’m glad.”
Suddenly, Taehyung was laying on the bed with you, arms wrapped around your sticky form. Just like always, his sweaty body slotted easily against yours, happily nuzzling his face into your neck and apparently wholly unfazed about the fact that you were completely covered in spunk. “You’re amazing,” he chirped, pressing a flurry of kisses into your skin and making you giggle. “You know, when you told me you liked cum forever ago, I didn’t realize this was what you meant.” 
“You never asked,” you shrugged, somehow still timid despite everything that had just happened. “What did you want me to say, exactly? Hey Tae, do you mind doing me a solid and shooting the club up? Or maybe can you give me a nice, relaxing facial?”
The pure bafflement of his expression had you laughing again. “In what world would I ever say no to that?” he demanded incredulously. 
Amused by the turn in conversation, Seokjin bent down to press his lips against your forehead in gratitude before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Do you mind if I use your shower?”
“Of course,” you replied, moving to direct him to your bathroom before Namjoon stopped you with a pat on the thigh.
“I’ll show him.”
You couldn’t help but watch their strong, naked forms leave the room, eyes drawn to the musculature of their backs and buttocks.
“Hey.” Tae poked you in the cheek, mirth dancing in his eyes from catching your ogling. “Focus. I’m talking to you.”
“What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view?” 
He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, though he was undeterred from getting the answers he sought.
“I told you what I wanted,” he reminded you gently, pressing another kiss against your jaw. “You know you could have done the same.”
You shifted in his hold, sheepish. “Tae, all of this isn’t really about me…”
“What, so just because we’re paying you, you’re not supposed to enjoy it too?” he scoffed. “Baby, as we’ve just proven tonight, it’s more fun when we all have fun.”
“I always have fun!” you protested, but you were prevented from elaborating by Namjoon returning with a washcloth. He climbed back on the bed, reaching for your ankles and guiding them apart.
“Open,” he directed, his tone containing none of the dominance it often had when he usually uttered the word. You obediently followed his instruction, a soft sigh escaping your lips when he pressed the warm cloth against your thoroughly battered netherparts and started cleaning you up. 
For a little bit, Taehyung watched your makeshift bath in silence, not even saying anything when Namjoon left to rinse off the towel and came back with a freshly damp one, gliding over the stained skin of your face and chest before they started to crust over. In fact, Tae didn’t speak again until your spot bath was finished and Namjoon was clambering back in the bed with the two of you, an arm slinging low over your waist as to not disturb where Tae’s rested. Pulling you against him until your chests were flush.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us on our trip?” You could feel Taehyung’s pout against your skin, displeased at the idea of being away from you for three weeks.
You huffed out a laugh, slinging a leg over Namjoon’s hip to settle more comfortably into your new position as the filling of a TaeJoon sandwich. “I’m positive. I have a lot studying to do and frankly, I’m not completely sure I can walk anymore.”
“Who said you need to walk?” Namjoon cut in sleepily. 
“We can pay someone to walk for you,” came Tae’s enthusiastic, yet ridiculous offer. “We’ll be going to meetings, but you can just roam the city if you want. Or relax at the hotel. You can lounge by the pool all day and put all your food and drinks on our tab.” 
Though it certainly sounded tempting, you were fully aware what the tradeoff of that makeshift vacation would be, and the absolute last thing you wanted to think about after the crazy intense session you just experienced was sex. So, despite Taehyung’s wheedling, you managed to stand firm in your decision, completely fine with waiting until they were back in the country to even consider spreading your legs for any of them again.
And you were justified when Seokjin finally reappeared, fully clothed, rubbing a towel through his hair, and informing you that his assistant Wendy would be in touch to schedule his next session for sometime after he returned.
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souryoong · 1 year
Text
all mine | pjm (18+)
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pairing: ex boyfriend!jimin x reader
word count: 2,356
genre: smut!! (18+ readers only)
summary: your new boyfriend can't make you finish, but your ex boyfriend sure can.
warnings: written sex, porn with a plot, protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms (duh), lots of g spot stimulation lol, somewhat rough sex maybe if you squint, making out, tongue kissing, blonde streaks jimin, jimin is tatted, jimin's chain necklace is dangling in her face, jimin knows her body (!!!).
*please do yourself a favor & listen to that song before or after you read this*
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authors note: sooooo um hi! long time no see. I feel like this is my longest streak with no new content (almost 2 months!! wtf) and I can say...I have no excuses lol. life just happens. im an adult its okay.
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“Pick up, please pick up.” You crossed your fingers as your phone was dialing your ex, Park Jimin once again to come over for sex.
You both ended your relationship on good terms, Jimin always had a busy schedule and was sometimes overseas for most of the year. Both of you agreed it was for the best to separate.
However, that didn’t stop either of you from still getting together every so often to fuck.
You were seeing someone new, nothing serious, and neither of you were exclusive.
There was nothing really wrong with the guy, just one thing — he could never make you cum.
You even went as far as faking it, multiple times because in the moment, it just to be done. He never seemed to notice. Then, when Jimin was free, he would quite literally fuck your brains out. It was a good system you had worked out.
When you told Jimin how your new man couldn’t make you finish, it gave him a huge ego boost — as if he needed it. He knew he was good in bed. The way you would writhe underneath him from just his tongue, or the way he would have you almost crying in pleasure.
Now, your new boyfriend was out of town, giving the perfect opportunity for Jimin to come over for the night.
“Hello?” Jimin’s voice finally spoke through the phone, and you felt relieved.
“Hey, Jimin.” You spoke in the sweetest voice you could. “Are you busy tonight?” You twirled a strand of your hair around your finger.
“Ah.” Jimin answered, you could practically hear him smiling. “I think I already know why you’re calling me.”
You blushed to yourself. “Fuck, Jimin. Okay. I need dick, that is why I’m calling you.”
“Where’s your new man?” He cheekily asked you.
“I mean as in good dick.” You spat back to him. “He’s out of town this week, and you know that man can’t make me cum.”
Jimin chuckled. “I know, but I love hearing you say that.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You teased him. “You coming over or not? I’m wearing some new panties I want to show you. Hmm. Or maybe none at all.”
“Fuck.” Jimin swore, frustrated. “You know I can’t say no. I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”
You smirked to yourself. “I’ll be waiting. Bye.”
You changed into a matching baby pink lacy bralette and panty set, the color happened to have always been Jimin’s favorite on you. You quickly threw your fluffy white robe over it and waited for him on the couch in your apartment.
Right on time, there was a knock on the door, and you got up to open it.
Jimin flashed you a smile before walking in, taking his sunglasses off. He looked so incredible he nearly took your breath away. He shut the door behind himself, locking it. Instantly his lips were on yours.
“Jimin.” You breathed out in between kisses. You draped your arms over his shoulders and around his neck, letting him take control.
He hummed in response, deepening the kiss as you felt him slide his tongue into your mouth, making you moan in response.
He pulled away, kissing down your neck and to your bare chest that wasn’t covered with the robe.
“Fuck, Jimin.” You whined, leaning your head back, tangling your fingers in his blonde streaked hair. “I missed you.”
“Me too.” His teeth scraped against your skin, making you jump. “Let’s go to your bedroom.”
Once you were in your bedroom, Jimin stripped himself of his hoodie and t shirt. He got to work unbuttoning his jeans as you untied your robe, letting it fall onto the floor below.
“Oh, fuck.” Jimin nearly moaned at the sight of you, especially in his favorite color.
“Mhm.” You smirked. “Wore it just for you.”
Jimin dropped to his knees in front of you, hands all over your thighs, and kissing your stomach, waist, and hips.
You chuckled lightly. “Jimin, that tickles.”
He hummed, grabbing one of your thighs firmly with one hand, and landing a smack to your ass with the other. The sudden contact made you gasp.
“Jimin!”
He stood up, smirking as his fingers graced the lacy material of your lacy bra. “Baby as much as I love how you wore this for me, I’d like it better if it was on the floor.”
Now sitting on the bed with your knees apart, you reached behind your back and unhooking it. Jimin reached and pulled the article of clothing off you, throwing it to the floor.
He tilted your chin up to kiss you again, the kiss being so forceful you almost couldn’t catch your breath.
Jimin pulled away and you nearly gasped for air. His hot breath was on your neck.
“God, look at you, I can’t get enough of you.”
He left open-mouthed kisses on your chest and you softly moaned; knowing where it was leading.
Except, you nearly cried out when his warm mouth was around your left nipple, his tongue swirling around it just how you liked it.
You couldn’t help how you tugged on his hair; your body so sensitive from not being touched like this in so long.
Jimin lifted his head up, smirking at how worked up you were. “What, your man doesn’t do this?” He lightly pinched your right nipple, making you let out a whine.
You leaned your head back, biting your lip. Nobody could get you worked up quite like Jimin could.
“Jimin, I need you to fuck me. Please.”
You pressed your thighs together, aching for his touch. Jimin noticed right away.
He moved his mouth from your left nipple over to your right, giving it equal attention. Your moan came out almost a sob.
“Jimin!”
You leaned back to lay down against your bed sheets, Jimin shifted to now hover over you, his mouth going straight back to your nipple.
“So worked up for me, I could probably make you cum from just this.” He kissed the skin below your right breast, nibbling lightly.
And he wasn’t wrong, he probably could.
“Jimin…” You were practically writhing underneath him.
He sat up slightly, taking in the sight of your body underneath him. He loved seeing you like this, so needy and worked up just for him.
Jimin brushed over your still clothed entrance over your panties with his fingers, making you suppress a moan by biting your lip. You could imagine how wet you were, and probably soaking through your panties.
“Just for me.” Jimin smirked. “Cute.”
He hooked his fingers around either side of your panties, and you lifted your hips for him to pull them off.
Once he did, he threw them to the side somewhere onto the floor.
Jimin moved so now he was in different position, like he was somewhat sitting next to you.
Noticing how his jeans were pulled down slightly and unbuttoned, his length was straining against his boxers. Your mouth practically was salivating.
“Fuck, Jimin.” You swore. “Your cock.” It almost seemed bigger since the last time, but it’s only been a couple weeks.
He didn’t say anything, just hummed. You shifted your upper body, Jimin guided you to open your legs more than they already were. You didn’t even have to wonder if you were wet, it had felt like you’ve been nearly gushing all night long.
You gasped at the contact of his fingers to your soaked entrance. Jimin swore under his breath.
“Fuck. You’re soaked. My fingers will slip right in.”
You let out a rather loud moan when he pushed his middle and ring finger inside of you, pressing against your walls. You almost forgot you had neighbors that could probably hear all of this.
Jimin’s lips crashed against yours as he started finger fucking you with earnest. You cried out against his mouth as he hit your g spot repeatedly. You felt your thighs starting to shake, and your stomach starting to tighten.
Jimin started watching his fingers go in and out of you, as you were practically clutching onto him.
“Jimin. Jimin.” You sounded so desperate saying his name repeatedly.
“Gonna cum for me?” His face was close to yours before he kissed you again.
You bit down on your lip, letting out a moan. “Mmm. Yes. Yes.” You tried to nod.
You felt yourself becoming more wet, then hearing the squelching sound of Jimin’s fingers moving in and out of you.
“Fuck, look at you, clenching my fingers like that.” Jimin moaned.
You were shaking, clutching onto him so hard that you felt like you should be apologizing, but he was pressing so hard against your inner walls that you were about to lose it.
“Jimin. Jimin.” You kept saying his name.
“Mhm. Say my name.” He kissed you, but you couldn’t even kiss him back, your orgasm hit you the hardest it has in a while.
“Jimin. Fuck. Don’t stop.” You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling like your whole body was shaking.
“Let it go, I got you.” He buried his face in your neck as you let out a rather loud moan.
You were panting like you just ran 5 miles, not even opening your eyes. The muscles in your thighs felt on fire.
“Jimin, what the fuck?” You managed to breathe out.
“Baby, this is nothing new.” Jimin chuckled. “I think you’ve just been neglected.”
You heard him slide off the bed, and heard his jeans getting taken off and thrown onto the floor.
“Open your eyes, I want you to look at me.”
You swallowed thickly and opened your eyes to see Jimin turned away from you, still in his underwear. You noticed his tattoo of the moon phases down his back, probably your favorite tattoo of his.
“Do you still have those condoms?” Jimin asked you.
Since you and Jimin had been getting together rather frequently, you had stashed a box of condoms at the very bottom of one of your drawers in your dresser. The both of you agreed it was probably a good idea to use condoms since you weren’t a couple anymore.
“Yeah. At the bottom of the drawer like always.” You answered, watching him walk over to the drawer, open it, reach in and grab a foil packet.
“You’re running out.” Jimin joked, smiling as he pulled down his black underwear, revealing his thick cock.
You bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him open the packet and roll the condom on over the tip. “Yeah, I uh guess I’d better get more.”
Jimin climbed on top of the bed, hovering over you. He adjusted some pillows so you would be comfortable.
His necklace was dangling as he was aligning himself with your entrance, teasing you by tapping the tip against your clit, making you whine from the sensitivity still.
“I forgot how pretty you looked underneath me.” Jimin spoke, but before you could respond in any way, you felt him push himself into you, the stretch of his girth feeling divine.
You couldn’t even form words, you just let out a whine. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
You felt like you could cum almost instantly at his first few thrusts, it had been so long and right now they were feeling better than ever.
“Mhm.” Jimin licked his lips, leaning down to kiss you.
He pushed your legs further apart, holding them behind your knees. Jimin’s pace changed, and he started thrusting into you slower, but hitting deeper.
You felt him nudge your sweet spot inside of you, making you cry out in pleasure.
“Fuck. Right there!”
He was hitting the spot repeatedly, making you squeeze your eyes shut, your hands grabbing onto him.
“God you’re so fucking wet.” Jimin swore, burying his face in your neck, starting to fuck you harder.
You could feel and hear your bed frame hitting the wall at the force, and Jimin’s hot breath panting onto your neck.
“Jimin, my neighbors.” You slightly laughed, fingers combing through his blonde streaked locks.
His pace faltered as he got up, now hovering over you, his chain necklace dangling. “I don’t care.” Jimin kissed you softly, then you pulled him closer for more, his tongue gliding against yours.
Your jaw mouth fell open at one thrust, and he smirked, knowing you were close.
“Jimin.” Your voice came out needier than you wanted it to. “Fuck I’m so close.”
“I can tell.” Jimin panted. “Fuck, you’re clenching me so good.”
He shifted your body to the side, putting one of your legs over his shoulder.
You couldn’t help but whine at the change of position, hands moving to grip your bed sheets.
“Fuck, Jimin.” You let out a moan when his fingers started to rub your clit simultaneously as he was fucking you. “More.”
You weren’t sure what you were asking for more of, you were torn between fighting off your orgasm to last a little while longer, or to just give into it.
“More?” Jimin seemed taken aback, your cunt still so wet you could hear it. “I’ll give you more.”
His knee pushed your other leg to the side, and he thrusted into you harder than before. Your orgasm hit you practically seconds later, and you could have sworn you blacked out for a moment.
Jimin’s pace barely faltered as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your walls clenching him tightly, and he grabbed a hold of your legs because you were shaking.
He continued fucking into you until his orgasm hit him, and he almost fell on top of you.
Your bodies right up against each other, and you kept repeating his name; it was all that you could say.
“Yes, I’m right here.” Jimin spoke, kissing you softly along your jaw.
“That was. That was.” You couldn’t even say it. “Fuck.” You slightly laughed at your current state.
“Amazing?” Jimin laughed, trying to finish your thoughts.
“Mhm.” You nodded, combing your fingers through Jimin’s hair.
“So, you know he won’t be back for like 3 days or something like that.” You spoke. “We can do this again.”
Jimin smirked, knowing fully well that you would be.
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taglist: @dearlyjoonie @thepurpleghost
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upat4amwiththemoon · 1 year
Note
Hey can I have a platonic teen gn reader who has dyslexia( it is a reading and writing disability) x Avengers who goes to Peter’s school. They feel worthless and frustrated because they need help yet they can’t help others with English. So they try very hard yet it barely gets noticed. They are working so hard to the point they break. It is ok if you don’t do it. Thanks
Struggles
Summary: Working twice as hard just to reach their level.
Pairing: Avengers x gn!teen!reader
Warnings: I have a limited knowledge of dyslexia
Word count: 706
a/n: hopefully this is what you had in mind
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore
masterlists | guidelines
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Y/N mumbles a paragraph from the assigned book again. It’s the third time they are reading it through, struggling to fully comprehend what’s being said. Frustration is starting to rise, as the book has to be read by the end of the week, and they have to write a short essay on it to prove they read it.
“This one had a mast thin as a sapling. Its sail hung skewed and fraying, its sides were patched. I remember the jump in my throat when the sailor lifted his face. Burnt it was, an shiny with sun. A mortal.” They read out loud slowly, taking time with each individual word. Sighing, they rub the space between the brows, starting to feel a tension headache coming.
They don’t have a lot of motivation to do this, because they work so hard on every single assignment, but the grades aren’t showing it. It seems like everyone else in her English class is getting effortless As and Bs, while they are crawling along with Cs and Ds.
Slamming the book shut, they throw it to the ground. Y/N leans their head against the table, shutting their eyes tightly. The amount of work they have to put in their school work is starting to get overwhelming.
Taking a deep breath in and letting it out, Y/N lifts their head and gets back to reading. They know they have to use more time to finish the work, even if it’s starting to feel like too much.
Y/N stares at their paper as they and Peter walk into the compound. D. All that work for a D. Their eyes are burning as the two come up to the living room, where some of the Avengers are hanging out. Although, Peter doesn’t live at the compound, he spends a lot of his time there, being good friends with Y/N.
“Hey, kids!” Tony is the first one to greet them. “Got your English assignments back today?”
Peter nods, taking out his paper. “I got a B+.” He smiles.
“Great job, kid!” He claps his hands together once.
“I know the Avengers work takes a lot out of the both of you, so we want you guys to know we’re proud of you.” Steve smiles before turning to Y/N. “What did you get?”
“A D.” They mumble, eyes and cheeks burning. Their gaze is cast downwards, away from their team’s eyes. They don’t want to see any disappointed looks. “I’m sorry, I really tried. I worked so hard on it. I did my best, but it wasn’t enough.” Their voice starts to crack and their whole body shake.
“Hey, hey,” Natasha gets out of her seat, walking to Y/N, “it’s okay. Grades aren’t everything, you don’t need to apologize.” She wraps her arms around them.
“But it’s not just this assignment, it’s every single one.” They lean against Natasha.
“Why didn’t you tell us? Or ask help from anyone?” Steve asks.
Y/N hiccups, lifting their head. “I wanted to prove I could do it by myself, that I could be just as good as everyone else. But I couldn’t.”
“We all need help with something.” Peter sets his hand on Y/N’s arm. “I always need Steve’s help with history. I just can’t remember all the names and years on my own.” Steve nods in confirmation. “I’ll help you out with English, okay? We can work on the assignments together.”
Wiping away their tears, Y/N nods lightly. They didn’t necessarily feel good about crying in front of everyone, wanting to keep a capable picture of themselves in front of the others, but they still feel relieved to get it all out in the open.
“Thank you.” They whisper.
“We’re all here to help you, kid.” Tony speaks up. “Well, they are. I’m no help in book essay thingies.”
With a small laugh, Y/N nods again. “Do you want to go over our essays together now?” Peter asks.
“Yeah.”
Peter and Y/N start walking out of the room. “You two always make us proud!” Tony shouts after them, showing a thumbs up. Peter smiles giddily as they walk towards his room, craving Mr Stark’s acceptance.
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