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#or I’d assume these things would count?
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Just recalled a memory from elementary school that made me realize I really did just have ocd from a young age
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neo-nomatrix · 4 months
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Sunshine and Midnight Rain
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader
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word count: 851
summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story
a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING
Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.
You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.
“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.
“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.
“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?
“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.
“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.
“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.
“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”
——————
“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.
You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.
“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.
“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.
“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.
You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.
“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.
“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.
“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.
“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.
“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.
“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.
“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.
“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.
“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.
“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.
“He was always my favorite,” he adds.
“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.
“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.
Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.
“You’re staring, again” You mention.
“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.
You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.
“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.
“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”
——————
It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.
As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.
“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.
“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.
You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”
“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks
“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.
“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.
“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”
And maybe, just maybe, he could.
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kyunzin · 3 days
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲?
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✰ characters ✰ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐍. 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, 𝐊. 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨
✰ summary ✰ them overhearing you say you can take all of them at once (f!reader)
✰ tags/warnings ✰ kissing, teasing, biting, nipple play, biting, pussy licking
✰ kyun’s note ✰ this took a lot out of me, part 2 will be posted when I wake up because apparently there is a word count and I’m too tired to do anything about that right now. the tags will correspond to what part they are in so that’s why the tags look different than in the original outline. the taglist will stay the same with each part
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maybe you should have been quieter
maybe you should have make sure nobody was around to hear you
maybe you should have declined their offer and went home to complete your assignments
maybe you’ll regret it in the morning when the pain settles in but that’s a problem for the you of tomorrow
it all started with a whispered comment you shared with your friends, while you watched gojo and geto walk past, you had said that you would let their whole friend group have their way with you unknowing of gojo’s impeccable hearing. you went on a tangent going into detail about all the things you would let them do to you letting the list drag on, shamelessly sharing your desires of all of them. that is until you felt an unfamiliar presence behind you placing their hands on your shoulder causing you to stop your rambling.
not daring to turn around after seeing the long nimble fingers resting on your shoulders as well as the way your friend was looking up at him with wide eyes, there was no doubt in your mind that the sweet scent coming from behind you belonged to gojo. “oh no, don’t stop on my account keep going. I’d love to hear more about what you’d let me do to you” the playful tone in his voice has you thinking that maybe he’ll let you off and move on. its not until he sits down in front of you, one leg over the bench mirroring your position, that you realise he wont leave without getting what he wants.
you try to slide back from him only to collide back into what you can only assume is geto’s firm chest. you have no clue as to when he sat behind you and you barely have to time to process his closeness before he speaks “theres no need to run away from us, we only want to hear what you have to say” his hand snakes around your waist holding you in place his low voice almost hypnotic as his friend flashes his pearly white seemingly innocent smile at you. you’re basically sandwiched in between them and you’re sure that your heart is beating loud enough for them both to hear.
your tongue is dry inside you mouth as you slowly start running out of ways in your head to avoid having to continue your speech. “I’m sure you’ve heard enough already I doubt theres anymore you’d wanna hear from me. I was finished anyway” you hope that’s enough for them but with the way gojo’s smile turn into a devious smirk you can tell they’re not gong to let you off the hook so easily. “oh really, cause if I can recall I remember you saying you’d let me use my fingers to choke you while I fuck you from behind, isn’t that right?”
he doesn’t even blush at his your vulgar statement while holding up his fingers in front of your face curling them into a c-shape as if to act out what he said, his predatory smile back in place. your eyes follow his hands as they drop back in front of him, he gives you a moment before turning his head to the side reminding you of his question but his companion answers for him. “i know what i heard, she also mentioned being spit roasted by both of us, if I’m not mistaken” he’s not and you’re starting to winder just how much they heard you say, you wouldn’t be surprised if they has heard all of it.
without at moments fail they begin to recite you every word, gojo making all sorts of obscene hand gestures while he speaks and you try to hang your head down in shame but gojo’s surprisingly warm hand lifts it up by your chin a small pout on his face “no need to hide princess, we’re only teasing. we’ll stop if you don’t like it” it kind of shocks you that he’s being considerate, considering all the stories you’ve heard of him have been about him being selfish. “not to say that we wouldn’t take you up on your offer is that’s what it is. i’m sure the others wouldnt mind either”
if gojos hand hadn’t already lifted you head you’re sure you would have gained whiplash from the way his friends statement has you turning your head to him with wide eyes. surely he must be joking right? theres no way that all of his friends would agree to live out all your fantasies with them. however the look on his normally impassive dace tell you that he’s serious, he was never known to be a joker anyway leaving all of that to gojo. “he’s serious ya’ know. I’m sure the others would be up for it, however it’s all up to you of course,” he waits before rephrasing his question “so? you up for it?”
you’re unsure as to whether you should accept his proposal or not but from what you’ve heard you’ve sure that you would regret it for the rest of you life if you rejected them now. “I mean if you’re really willing to then I guess I’m okay with it” you shrug and gojo’s toothy smile was back on his face in a flash as well as the hand behind you squeezing your waist gently, you had almost forgot that it was there. “perfect just give me your number and I’ll sort out the details” he hands you his unlocked phone and you type your number in it before handing it back to him. “perfect, I’ll see ya later princess”
he’s up and off just as quick as he came to sit down his companion following in suit both of them walking away side by side unknowing of the mess they just created in you head. it’s not a second later that you remember your friend and turn back to she see her sitting there with the same shocked expression as you except while your mouth was left gaping hers was raised into a crazed grin. having sat there throughout the whole interaction, you’re surprised she didn’t interrupt. the two of you leave your spot fawning over your predicament until you get a message from an unknown number with an address and time sent off with a blue heart emoji blue.
you quickly save his number and part with your friend leaving for your last lesson of the day, anticipation killing you all throughout the lecture. it’s no lie to say you almost run outside the room when the session finishes making your way home to freshen up and get ready. gojo had told you to be at his place by 4:30 earliest so you still had some time before you had to be there, plus you didn’t want to arrive early and seem to desperate even though you were. so you took your time getting ready making sure everything was making sure to pick out something comfortable to wear.
you had spent part of your afternoon in the shower making sure you were smooth as silk, washing yourself off with your favourite scented soap. making sure to rub cream into all parts of your skinthe time went by quick and before you knew it it was 4:28. you didn’t realise how long it took you to get ready but at least you knew that your were prepared enough. you search up the address gojo gave you and make your way there with slow steps giving yourself enough time to think through your life choices. you manage not to talk yourself out of it and soon enough you’re standing in front of their house.
before you chicken out at the latest second you quickly ring the doorbell and seal your fate, it’s not long before you hear steps coming your way making your heart beat faster. the door soon swings open slowly to reveal geto smiling down at you “glad you decided to come, have any trouble finding the house?” he steps aside you let you in closing the door behind you. in all honesty your surprised with the state of the house, you would expect it to be messy considering all the parties they’re said to have but it’s relatively clean bar a couple of cups on the living room table that geto leads you to.
“no it was a quick journey. why wouldn’t I come?” who in their right mind would turn down a chance to fuck the hottest guys on campus. you take a seat on the black leather sofa positioned in front of the wide inch tv and almost flinch when geto sits almost directly next to you. “it didn’t seem like you were to keen back at the table, I thought me might have come on to swing and scared you off” he picks up the remote from somewhere and turns on the tv, flicking through some channels he looks back to you with a reassuring smile. “you can still back out it you want the guys won’t mind”
“no, I’m sure. I’m just a little nervous is all, it’s my first time doing something…” you trail off at the end not sure how to phrase it but geto picks up for you “you mean you’ve never fucked this many people at once?” you can hear the smirk in his voice without looking at him and it’s clear as day that he’s teasing you “yeah, exactly that. but I’m sure you guys will make it worth my while won’t you?” you turn to look at him with an unwavering and seductive stare not planning on letting have all the fun. it’s seem to have caught him off guard with they way his eyes widen a little bit at your boldness.
seeing that your earlier nerves have dissipated he seems a little more eager to get started on your plans, placing your legs over his spread ones massaging his hand over your inner thigh slowly edging his hand further up. you part your legs a little to give him more access and use your arm to bring him into a kiss which he more than happily accepts. your lips melt against when he begins to deepen the kiss licking his way into your mouth. it’s only a second later that you realise the cold sensation you feel is his tongue piercing, which you didnt realise he had, mapping out the inside of your mouth.
he soon becomes impatient and pulls you on top of him without breaking the kiss, leaving you flush against him full body pressing down on his. he sucks in the small moan you let out when you fell his erection through the fabric of your clothes pressing directly into your cunt. even without opening your eyes you can feel him smirk into the kiss knowing that he’s having an affect on you. deciding that you won’t let him be the only one unaffected you roll your hips down into his, threading your hand into his tied up hair gripping onto it tightly and it’s a delight to hear the sharp “fuck” he lets out.
you pull back from the kiss leaving small trail of saliva connecting both of you lips for a second as you let out a small yelp when both his hand come down and slap your ass. the both of you are now breathing heavily trying to regain some air, staring at each other with lust blown eyes when he recovers. using his hands to keep you still he grinds his hips up into yours. “it’s cute that you’re trying to take control but just leave everything to me princess, I’ll make you feel good” you have half a mind to nod your head when he uses both his hands to grip your ass, squeezing sporadically.
just as you’re about to lean down and kiss him again you’re interrupted by an exaggerated gasp behind geto only to find gojo standing by the stairs surely hiding a grin behind his hinds that are clasped over his mouth. “how could you two start without me” you’re about to apologise but geto stops you, “ignore him” pressing kisses into the side of your neck while sliding a cold hand up your shirt sending a shiver down your spine. you’re so distracted by the feeling of geto’s soft lips on your skin that you hardly notice when gojo ends up kneeling next the the two of you on the sofa.
you’re startled by the sudden contrast of geto’s cold hands to gojo’s warm ones turning your head to his direction, looking at you with his now familiar predatory grin, “I could hear your cute little noises from upstairs, is he making you feels good?” your response is cut off by a moan as geto rolls his hips into yours again, “stop talking and make better use of your mouth” he says without his lips leaving your neck and you watch as gojo rolls his eyes playfully but complies with his friends command with a silent whisper of “so bossy” before leaning down and latching his lips onto yours.
unlike geto whose kiss was more rough and impatient, gojo focuses his attention on teasing you endlessly. gently brushing his lips against yours slowly pulling away, revelling in the way you try to chase his lips with a whine only to be pulled back by an annoyed geto. “I thought I told you to be useful?” he spans his attention back to you gesturing at your top lifting it slightly, agreeing you lift your shirt off and throw it behind you. gojo’s quick to unclasp your bra, taking it off to drop on top of your shirt. “yeah yeah whatever” he makes quick work of sucking your nipple into his mouth, biting down hard.
you arch into his touch while geto holds you down by your hips, flicking your other nipples while he watches your face contort into pleasure. it’s like the both of them are competing to see who can get the better reaction out of you, the near constant rolling of geto’s hips into yours versus how gojo relentlessly bites and sucks on your nipple. their more than experienced hands start to roam your body and you’re now starting to believe all the rumours that were said about them. if it feels this good with just the two of them you wonder what it’ll be like with the rest of them.
just as the thought passes you hear someone come through the front door and you try to look but you’re stopped as geto pulls you into another sloppy kiss. “impatient fucks, I thought you said you were gonna wait until we all got here” the voice comes closer but getos lips are still locked with yours and you cant bear to break the kiss. that is until a thick hand hooks around your neck from behind you pulling you away from geto’s lips. he turns you to face him and youre met with toji’s mocking grin. “she looks gone already, fuck what did you two do to her” he inspects you face for a second before letting go.
“nothing she hasn’t thought about before,” gojo smiles as he turns to you “isnt that right princess?” you don’t trust your voice enough to speak so a weak nod is all that you can manage, seeming to have accepted the response toji lets go of you neck and you already miss the heated grip around your neck as you subconsciously try to lean back into the touch which earns you a laugh from the trio. “seems like she’s tired of you two, how about you come upstairs with me?” not that you’re given a chance to answer as he effortlessly picks you up from geto holding you bridal style in your half-naked state.
you can feel his thick muscles flexing under you as he adjusts his hold while he ignores the protests from the other two men trailing behind him. he makes sure to watch where hes going when he walks so it gives you a chance to study his features. this is the closest that you’ve ever been up to him, sure you’ve seen pictures and caught glimpses of him around campus but seeing something in person is different, especially the fact that you cant smell through pictures. god he smells so fucking good. you can even see the thin layer of sweat over he exposed neck, probably having just come back from exercise.
I wanna lick the sweat off him, wonder if he’d let me. due to your gaze being lowered you failed to notice him smiling down at you. “I’d let you do anything you fucking want sweet cheeks, s’long as you let me get a taste of you first” your head snaps up to him, eyes widening in shock not realising you had said that out loud. ‘I really have an issue keeping my mouth shut don’t i- hold on’ “sweet cheeks?”. he chuckles deeply and you can fell the vibration coming off his thick chest. “s’there a problem? anyone with eyes can see a great piece of ass, I’m just the lucky guy that gets to have it”
in the few seconds the interaction had happen toji had managed to open a door, entering a room and practically tossing you onto the edge of a neatly spread bed. looking around you can gather that it’s probably a guest bedroom. the other two enter only shortly “we weren’t doing with her yet” gojo complains. “not my problem, it’s my turn now” in a quick motion he pulls his tank over his head snd gets down on his knees in front of you. “now how about we get rid of these,” without asking he pulls down your joggers and panties in one fluid motion leaving you bare in front of them. “that’s better”
you try to close your legs in modesty but toji stops you by spreading your legs wider than before with both hands “keep ‘em nice and wide for me,” he lets a hand slide down almost reaching your inviting pussy “keep ‘em and I’ll stop yeah?” you not airily hoping he’ll finally start but he doesn’t move clearly waiting for something else “I need words cheeks” you let out a frustrated groan before complying with his request. “I won’t close them just fucking do something already” his eyes look shocked but he grins at your boldness, however both geto and gojo, aquatinted with you sass, just laugh.
“such a needy cunt you have, can’t wait to be stuffed full” he slides both hands under your thighs and pulls you directly in front of him, leaning back and resting on your elbows waiting for what he’s for what he’s going to do next. you let out a whimper, relieved to finally be touched, when he runs two fingers up your pussy collecting your juices on his fingers and sucks them into him mouth ands moans at the taste while maintaining eye contact with you. “tastes better than I imagined, ‘toru come here” you’re suddenly reminded of the other two’s presence at the mention of his name.
its takes a second for you to notice that geto isn't standing were he was before until the bed dips behind you and your raised to lean against is chest, trying to look back at him but his cold hands lower your gaze down to were gojo is not knelt between your legs alongside toji. "keep your eyes on them, don't pay attention to me" his sonorous voice sends chills down your bare neck while you turn your attention back to the, now two, boys below you. gojo starts tailing kisses up your thighs looking up at you through his platinum lashes until toji pulls him back with a firm tug of is hair that as him letting out a grunt
"i didn't say you could touch did i?" watching as the two men stare at each other, you let out a whine at the sudden loss of touch but its quickly replaced by geto's cold fingers tweaking your nipple "be patient you'll get what you want soon enough" you're now left with both legs spread wide over geto's, almost begging for someone to do something, anything at this point. luckily your prayers are answered when geto runs a ands down your abdomen pressing a wet kiss to your neck "you do know its rude to keep your guests waiting right?"
at his reminder both men turn back to you with similar grins on their faces, though toji doesn't release his grip on gojo's hair he quickly whisper something into is ear that you cant hear before turning back to you "my bad, 's just that this little bitch as no patience 'n doesn't know how to listen". geto ignores then and turns your head towards him while the other one pinch and roll your nipple between is fingers, latching his lips onto yours in a wet kiss eliciting a moan from you, which distracts you from the other two. your eyes shoot back open, a hot tongue is presses flat against your pussy.
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍
✰ taglist ✰ @lik0 @yaygurist @dvarlinggg @valleydoli @yeet-ur-feet @silkija @nuggetalli @zillahgocrazy @satoryaa @yaya4thawin @nowhoremones @yeetlixs @happy2delivur @heliumshorns @chocopuchino @luvv4lurd @sorceira @maniaerodesi @chysalxsm @cobraisveryhorny @servalswifey @chrissysblog @futureittomainn @zacatecanaaaa @ichikanu @ameeeeeliie @bluupen @prettybakerswife @blankwashed @klumrine @chadychadyy2k @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha @dl-yum @jalepp @kibananya @jjksimp3579 @xemmysblog @shawnberry @bleachisfood @barryatsumu @zennyxxy @dyeforkenma @bloomingheartss @sousblogga @alluresenses @zwmbizz @queenkassradite @dawnhero @xthatpottahfanx @loavibeycipoosan
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danveration · 3 months
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Sleep well, amour Pt. 2
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: After falling asleep to his voice, you wake up and get confronted by Alastor. Later, you walk in on him sleeping.
Word count: 1523
Warnings: Mention of Alastor eating and k*lling a deer
part one
A/N: PART TWO IS HERE!!! I had SO many options wracking my brain on where to take this, but I picked this one! I hope you all enjoy it :’) let me know if you have any feedback, I’d love to hear it. Also, I’m currently working on all the requests I got :) as well as part 2 to that-no-good-first-man-on-earth
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You wake up, blinking and looking around. Momentarily forgetting where you are.
Shit. You fell asleep in Alastor’s recording room. Thankfully, he isn’t here right now.
Before you could get up, you notice a purple blanket on you. It seems to be the one that was on his coat hanger. Did Alastor put this on you..? The thought has you smiling and your cheeks reddening.
Alastor’s voice sure does have an effect on you. You look outside to see what time it is, but remember that it’s Hell and the sky is always the same shade of red. You’re going to have to get used to that.
Getting up, you put the blanket back on the hanger and look around some more. It feels some-what intimate right now to be in his space when he’s not around. You wonder how long you’ve been asleep for.
You walk over to his table and notice a red “play” button on his radio equipment and are tempted to press it. It surely won’t cause any harm to hear what he was talking about when you were asleep. You press it and listen.
“Haha! For any sinner, I know it’s a tempting question. But I-“ The recording fast forwards. “Nevertheless, I find it quite amusing that this technology box thinks he is on any sort of level to me! Call me crazy but the sinners have been taaallkinggg, and they think he sounds quite obsessed.” He laughs, knowing Vox is probably listening.
You smile at his voice and find it funny how he is a bit of a drama queen when it comes to his radio broadcasts. You know deep down he doesn’t actually care about the whole situation with Vox, but it’s still funny how he entertains it.
Looking to your right, you see a mug that has “Oh Deer” written on it. There seems to be a bit of black coffee still left in the mug. The “deer” reference made you giggle. You’ve always wondered about his past and how exactly he is part deer anyhow. Oh well, It’ll reveal itself with time.
You’re looking at all the other buttons on his equipment, wondering what they do, when all of a sudden you hear light footsteps on the other side of the door. It’s most likely Alastor. Nobody would willingly go to his room without permission.
The door opens slowly and in steps Alastor. You notice how he opened the door quietly, to not make make much noise. As he still assumed you were asleep. You smiled at that.
He looks ahead and sees you, immediately smiling. “Ah! My dear. You’re awake!” He claps his hands together, his cane leaning on his side.
“Hey Al. Um.. about what happened I-“ You start.
“Ah, ah! No need to explain yourself, sweetheart! Don’t go giving yourself a headache.” He cuts in and laughs.
He looks down at you and says, “you just find comfort in my voice, don’t you?” He asks, with a smug smile.
Your eyes go wide and you stutter. Of course it wasn’t the most secretive thing. Still, you didn’t think he actually knew.
“U-um. Well..” You say.
He tilts his head to side as if saying, “Go on…”
There’s really no getting out of this. Plus, you don’t think Alastor would actually care. He’d probably just find it funny.
“Yeah, I do.” You admit. “I find comfort in your voice, of course I do! I just.. I don’t know.”
You aren’t sure what to say, it’s a tad embarrassing.
Alastor begins to laugh.
“I certainly could tell! I find it quite amusing if I do say so myself.” He says.
He definitely doesn’t mind it, he has a soft spot for you. But he’s also a bit confused on why you even do. He knows his radio voice is unique, but nobody ever commented on it bringing them comfort. They usually scream and run away when they hear him. You’ve been there long enough to see him kill and do so many things that people describe as “horrible, satanic, terrifying” but you still find comfort in him nevertheless? He thinks it’s absolutely adorable!
“Amusing?” You ask.
He nods and says, “Amusing, darling! I mean.. you know who I am, do you not?” He laughs and continues. “Though you still find comfort.. now that’s an interesting fact, don’t you think?”
You shy away, looking anywhere but him. You’re comfortable around him, of course, but you’re a tiny but embarrassed of this whole situation. You know he is definitely loving his though.
He places a finger on your jaw and guides your head back to look at him.
“Uh, uh, dear. There’s no need to feel shy! I never said it was a bad thing. I’m truly honoured!” He says, smiling down at you.
You and him have been getting to know each other for a while now and you’ve just been going deeply and deeply more interested in him. You almost laugh at yourself because you sometimes act as if you did when you alive, how you obsessed over fictional characters and “fan fiction.”
You look at him and say, “Well, that’s good then.” You chuckle.
“Mm, it is isn’t it?” He says.
He thinks you’re absolutely pathetic, but in a good way. He wouldn’t let anything hurt you, this new sensation is something he never wants to get rid of.
———————————————————————
Later that day, Charlie wanted you to pass a message on to Alastor about the hotel reservations. You knew he was in his room because he mentioned that if you needed him, he’d be in there having some dinner (aka, deer). Which he has in his half room half forest. You really wonder how on earth he even did that. The wonders of being a radio demon!
You’re at his door, lightly knocking. You wait a few seconds but you don’t hear anything from the other side.
“Al?” You question while knocking again.
“Hm.” You think.
You aren’t sure if you should go in or not. Sure, the thing Charlie told you about could wait but you also wanted to make sure he was okay. What if he.. choked or something? You’re sure the radio demon could handle that but you just want to make sure.
“Al, I’m coming in.. okay?” You say while knocking once more.
You slowly twist the knob and push the door open. Peaking in, you see him on the other side of the room, in a chair.
“Alastor, are you alr-“ You stop yourself when you notice his eyes are closed.
Closing the door behind you, you walk up to him.
He’s currently sitting in the chair, his arm on the table and his head resting on his hand. He looks so peaceful. His mouth isn’t smiling and his face just looks so.. relaxed. You’ve never saw him like this before. He mumbles occasionally and his ears twitch every so often as he sleeps. You aren’t sure how he finds this position comfortable, but you smile at it nonetheless.
You don’t want to disturb him so you leave, now relaxed that you know he’s okay.
Right before you grab the knob of the door, you hear, “Y/n?”
You whip your head back and you see him standing up, looking at you with his smile.
“Did you need something, dear?” He asks, as if he wasn’t just dead asleep a second ago.
Of course, it makes sense he is a light sleeper.
“O-oh, no. Charlie just wanted me to tell you that the renovations went well and that the guys who inspect the place will be here tomorrow!” You say. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Ahh, alright! And nonsense! You couldn’t disturb me.” He says.
You look at him and smile.
“You know, you could join me if you want! I was just resting and then going to have some dinner.” He offers.
You perk up but then remember that Husk assigned you a task of picking up crates of whiskey for the bar.
“Shit, sorry. I can’t. I have to go get more alcohol for the bar.” You say with a frown.
“More? If I remember correctly, we just got new shipments in.. last week?” He says with a laugh. “Though I’m not surprised we ran out again. Husker is a busy man. Well, my dear. Some other time, then!”
You notice him looking back into the forest, eyeing a deer.
“Yeah, some other time.” You smile. “Have a good dinner, Alastor!”
He smiles back at you says, “Oh I will.” He chuckles, his radio eyes making an appearance as he looks back the deer.
“You have yourself a lovely day, sweetheart!” He says with a wave.
“You too!” Waving back, you then open the door and leave. Once you leave you hear shrieking on the other side of the door, definitely the deer that Al was eyeing.
You’re excited to have more encounters with him, and even take him up on the dinner offer! You remember him mentioning he wanted to introduce you to his friend, Rosie. You’re looking forward to it.
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spaghettiposts · 1 month
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Window Crashin’
WandaNat x Spidey!Reader
Summery: Crashing into the wrong window at night proves to be the best mistake you’ve ever made.
Warnings: Very OBLIVIOUS reader, straight up stupid I can’t lie. Gay panics all around. Fluff
Word count: 1.6k
A/n: my first time officially writing for Nat and I think I’d like to continue so expect separate fics of her sometime soon.
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Kraven had become an incessant thorn in your side, his relentless rampage ever since he announced “The Grand Hunt” in the heart of Central Park felt like a never-ending nightmare. One that persistently dragged on as the weeks floated by, each day a new form of tinnitus growing in your eardrums at the echoings of his horn. Falling once again into his endless game of cat and mouse.
Or in your case Kraven and Spider–with Kraven playing predator and you, the elusive Spider, trying to lure him away from innocent civilians roaming the streets of New York. 
Which wasn’t as easy as one would imagine, but you made do with what you had, brains over brawns. Clinging onto the hope that eventually, Kraven would grow tired of chasing and resign for the night, with the promise that he’d return. And so the cycle goes on. 
There were other options you could resort to, but those were last resorts, ones you only used if you were certain you couldn’t handle Kraven or in case of an emergency. In all honesty, you’re avoiding involving the Avengers, it’s really the last thing you want this to come to. A couple of broken ribs wasn’t an Avengers level threat.
You could handle Kraven by yourself perfectly fine, and nobody got hurt at the end of the day—except mainly your sleep schedule.
And now, as you swung through the thick chilling air on route to the compound; you were struggling to stay awake, the bruises littered across your body only making it harder to keep swinging. It wasn’t that sleep had ever been your strong suit, but now, it seemed like a distant luxury. The sacrifice of a hero came in many forms, and sleep deprivation was yours. 
Tony had sacrificed half his company in pursuit of a heroic lifestyle, hell, even Steve froze himself to save humanity. If humanity needed you to suffer from fewer hours in bed, then so be it. 
You fought relentlessly to keep your eyes from drooping and it only took the honking of a truck for you to jolt awake, merely missing out on the experience of being rammed by one. 
Shaking your head, you muttered words of encouragement to yourself, living on a prayer of making it back to the compound - in one piece. 
As the familiar building came into view, you let out a breath of relief you didn’t know you were holding. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you swung around towards the left block and homed in on your window, only to face-plant straight into it with a resounding thud.
You groaned against the pavement, pressing your hands on the wall to steady yourself before you could slide off. Silently thanking that radioactive spider for granting you the ability to stick to surfaces as you adjusted yourself, what the fuck?
A miscalculation on your part—or at least you pictured. Pushing yourself back from the wall, your eyebrows crinkled. Huh.
You always left your window open–had one of your teammates closed it off?
Assuming one of the guys must’ve closed it off, you didn’t question much, missing your bed and running on pure exhaustion to really assess the situation seriously. Gripping the sides of the window, you tried to pry from the outside, and after a couple of difficulties; you managed to unlock it, budging it open with a click. 
Finally, home sweet home. 
Your body toppled into the room first before the rest of your body crashed onto the floor, reaching an arm to shut the window behind you. With a sigh of relief, you picked yourself up, stretching your arms above your head, eliciting a satisfying ‘pop’ from your back, feeling all the pent-up tensions of the day leave your body. 
Pressing the button on your chest, making quick work of discarding your suit. You struggled more than you’d like to admit, having to hop on one foot to wiggle your feet out of the padding. 
Amidst your squirming, you failed to notice the crimson warps seeping from your bed, freezing mid-movement as the lights flickered on by themselves, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 
“Jesus fucking Christ!” You screeched, scrambling up to your feet, firmly clutching your uniform in a poor attempt to cover yourself from the two women on your bed, equally startled.
“Y/n…? What are you doing here?” Natasha says after a beat of silence, her eyes furrowing as she lowers her gun and the arm protectively wrapped around her girlfriend. Wanda mirrored her actions and let the red wisps fall before she turned to you disconcertingly.
You shrunk under their gaze, feeling your heart pick up. It was too late to salvage any attempts at running for it, so you turned away, ignoring how affected you felt by their disheveled appearances.
Instead, you focused on why they were inside your room in the first place. Not that you minded having two beautiful women in your bed but at this hour? 
“What are you doing in my room? I just got back, what’s…” Your voice trailed off, slipping on your suit, as you looked towards your dresser…was it always that color? And why was there a photo of Wanda and Natasha on your nightstand? Sure, you were hopelessly in love with the two but never to this extent.
Barely bordering on those lines. 
“Detka…this is our room,” Wanda said slowly, as to not startle you. 
You cursed under your breath, realizing your mistake. “Aw fuck, I must’ve crashed into the wrong—wall-side thing,” you explained messily, picking yourself up for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. 
“Crashed?” Both of the girls shouted and you winced, scooting off awkwardly to the side, feeling even more like an intrusion. 
“Yeah but it’s okay though, that’s nothing compared to Kraven's fists, trust me.” You meant to reassure them, but judging by the worried looks they exchanged, it had the opposite effect. Taking their silence as an opportunity to leave, you stepped back.
“Anyways, sorry for interrupting your night.” You mumbled apologetically, reaching for the window handle. “I’ll see y'all tomorrow— son of a bitch.” You grunted, banging your head against the glass for the second time this night. You were really starting to resent these things.  
And Wanda bit her bottom lip, “Malysh, it’s late and you’re…not doing well, why don’t you stay here tonight?” She suggested softly, her voice coming out as sweet as honey and you almost dropped dead there.
“Here?” You blurted out, feeling a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. “Like, with you and Nat?”
Natasha and Wanda shared an amused look, before nodding in unison. 
Your face crinkled, not really understanding what the looks were for but you assumed it was all in your head. Sparing one last glance at the two, you confirmed this was okay, searching for even the smallest bits of hesitancy or discomfort only to find nothing but welcoming smiles. 
With a small nod, barely audible, you murmured a hesitant “alright,” as you settled into the chair beside their bed, placing your feet on the small wooly ottoman.
Had your eyes been open, you might’ve noticed the way their faces dropped in disappointment. After months of obvious pining, not-so-subtle flirting thrown your way, you were choosing to sleep…not with them but on a chair.
A brief silence lingered, and you shifted in your seat. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel their eyes piercing and you were starting to sweat.
“Sorry,” You mumble, heat rising up your neck in embarrassment as you removed your feet off the ottoman, fearing you had overstepped. Still, their gazes remained unwavering and you rubbed your arm unsurely, “Is the chair off–limits too? I can take the floor if that’s better.”
“Dorogoy, we’re inviting you into our bed,” Natasha chuckles disbelievingly, fingers tracing the covers as to tempt you with the invitation. 
“Mhmm, yeah no. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, stumbling over your words. “I don’t do well in confined spaces with pretty women, I mean— no wait you are, both are super pretty but that’s not—“ 
Thankfully, Wanda interjected before you could embarrass yourself further with a giggle. You swore your stomach flipped. “Cute, but won’t you get cold?” She suggested, Natasha nodding and lifting the covers, adding, “It’s much warmer over here.”
Again, you waved them off and they were starting to get fed up with your excuses. “Oh nah! My suit has thermal heating installed, pretty cool right? Tony helped me insulate it–”
“Y/n, just get in the bed.”
Before you could protest further, you felt those warm red tendrils wrap around you, coaxing you into their bed, and you couldn’t even remember why you were fighting this in the first place when their arms wrapped around you. Not when their sheets were so warm, and their bodies warmer. 
Resistance be damned, as Natasha's hand ran gently through your hair, you relaxed into it, and both girls smiled. This was how things needed to be, always. 
Still, your heart was beyond nervous to even enjoy the moment but they were pushing at your shoulders to tuck you in further, getting settled themselves. They tangled their limbs with your own and it was official; there was definitely no escaping this. 
Pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, Wanda murmured a couple of words and you felt more comfortable clothes encase you. Natasha pressed a tender kiss to the shell of your ear before bidding you a good night.
You repeat her words back and they tighten their grip, closing their eyes. 
With exhaustion finally catching up to you, your eyes drooped helplessly again, fluttering shut, bones begging for sleep, and you finally surrendered to its embrace. Allowing yourself a moment of rest with the two people you treasure most in the world. 
And suddenly, crashing into windows didn’t seem so bad after all.
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wwilsonbarness · 10 months
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i can't do this anymore
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pairings: bucky barnes x y/n reader  
summary: You overhear Bucky’s conversation with your friends and assume the worst but you couldn’t have been more wrong. 
warnings: ANGSTTT, fluffy ending, mention of marriage, more angst “I’m sorry i can’t help it), miscommunication. 
word count: 3665
a/n: I’m in serious need of miscommunication fics (I'm a sucker for angst) so I’d be grateful for any recommendations!! Enjoy <3 
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
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“Buck? Can you pass my clothes?” You had just stepped out of the shower and realised you left your clothes in your room, but Bucky didn’t answer. “Buck?” He still didn’t answer so you wrapped your towel around you and headed through to see the room empty. You begin to get dressed before you hear Sam’s voice from the living room, he wasn’t supposed to be here for another half hour. Every week Bucky and Sam took it in turns to host dinner for the three of you and Sam’s girlfriend, Olivia. This week was yours and Bucky’s turn to host and you were super excited to serve your new recipe. Hearing the voices made you even more excited, but stressed as you still had some cooking to do before they were supposed to be here. You finish getting dressed and apply a little bit of makeup as quickly as you can. These dinners weren’t formal so it didn’t take long to get ready, they were mostly just so Sam and Bucky had some comfort after their missions, especially recently with them having to deal with John Walker. You take one last look in the mirror before heading through, until you hear something that stops you in your step.
“I mean I can’t say I’m surprised.. one look at you two and it’s obvious,” Sam tried to whisper but failed. “how are you gonna do it?”  Do what? You were confused what they were talking about, part of was tempted to interrupt but your curiosity took over. 
“I don’t know.. It’s just..” Bucky was stuttering which he only did when he was nervous, this really made you worry about what they were talking about. “It’s just she’s different from other girls, you know? And I know we haven’t been together that long but I can’t do it anymore. Do what anymore? “It’s not like I don’t love what we have but I just feel like I need more” More? You couldn’t help but overthink what you were hearing. They were talking about you, you weren't enough for him. I mean sure you’d thought that about yourself so many times but hearing it from the man you truly thought was the love of your life hurt. 
“I know what it’s like when you find the one, it’s the best feeling in the world.” You couldn’t see this but Sam had kissed Olivia’s head after his words. “This is gonna be good for you man, I’m happy for you.” 
You couldn’t bring yourself to hear anymore, the tears were already fighting their way out. You quietly walk back into your bedroom and try and calm down, you just had to get through tonight, just tonight and then you and Bucky could talk. You were at your happiest with Bucky, you thought Bucky was too but.. you didn’t even want to finish that thought. Bucky’s happiness was the most important thing to you, and if that meant he wasn’t with you anymore you would have to find a way to get through that. No matter how hard it would be for you, you just wanted him to be happy.
You took a few minutes to compose yourself,  your eyes were red and a little puffy but not enough for anyone to notice. You hoped anyway. This time when you left your bedroom you made sure to close the door loud enough so they could hear you coming and hopefully change the subject. 
“Hey guys, you’re early.” you said as you walked in, Sam and Olivia both stood up to give you a hug as you came in. 
“Yeah sorry we were just a couple blocks over and it didn’t make sense going all the way back home just to come out again,” Sam replied with a smile. “Buck said it was okay.” 
“Of course it is, you guys are always welcome, you know that!” You were surprisingly good at keeping how you really felt hidden, but with your words you couldn’t help but think you would lose Sam and Olivia as friends when Bucky ended things between you, they were technically Bucky’s friends first but you’d grown to see them as practically family as your relationship grew. You tried to push that thought away, you just had to get through tonight you kept repeating to yourself in your head. 
“You okay doll?” Bucky asks as he wraps his arms around you. You plaster on a smile hoping he wouldn’t sense anything being wrong. 
“Course! Just need to check on the food.” Normally Bucky’s touch helped you in situations like this but with what you heard his touch was only making you feel worse. You manage to untangle yourself from his arms and head to the kitchen. You notice that the ingredients and glasses were still laying out for the drinks you’d planned to make. “Do you guys want any drinks?” 
“Yes please!” Sam and Bucky replied at the same time. 
“I’ll help you.” you heard Olivia say through the wall. It only takes a couple seconds before she’s standing next to you in the kitchen. You and Olivia were like best friends, and she’s the reason you and Bucky were together. You had worked together for a few years, you drifted a little when she left that job but it only took one reunion dinner to get your friendship back to normal. That was 2 years ago, and from that night on she had insisted on setting up you and Bucky. It took a while for the meeting to actually happen but once it did you knew he was the one for you. Was. Not anymore. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Olivia asks quietly, she was aware of Bucky’s super soldier hearing and wanted to talk to you alone. 
You nodded and forced another smile. “Just a busy week, my boss is still being a dick.” 
“Ugh, you deserve so much better than having to work for that guy. He’s a creep.” She said at a normal volume now. “You should send Bucky after him, make him know he can’t treat you like that just cause he’s the boss.” She brings her hands up to put air quotes around ‘boss’, as he’s only technically the boss for the month while your real boss was on vacation. 
“I’ll manage.” You tried to play it off, you wouldn’t have Bucky there to help you soon, and you needed to stand up for yourself. 
“You know he would do anything for you.” 
“You think?” 
“Yep. I mean have you seen the way he looks at you?” 
“Hmm.” you mumbled. “Here,” You pass her two glasses with drinks in it. “take these and I’ll bring the other two once i’ve checked the food.” 
“Okay,” She starts to walk about but turns at the last minute, “It smells good by the way, I can’t wait.” 
“Thanks” you laughed as she walked away. She could tell there was something different with you tonight but she couldn’t figure out what was wrong, it felt like it was more than just your boss being a dick. 
You tried to take as long as you could checking the food without it being too long that someone would notice. After just under 10 minutes you walk through. “Dinner should only be a little longer.” You pass a glass to Bucky and keep one for yourself, normally you’d sit close to Bucky but tonight you kept your distance, opting for the armchair in the corner. Bucky thought this was weird but he kept it to himself. 
“So, what did I miss?” You hoped they would somehow be able to explain away what you heard but your hope didn’t last long as they started to talk about Sam’s plans to get a lizard. 
“Sam, we’re not getting a lizard,” Olivia replied, “if you insist on getting a pet why can’t it be a normal one like a cat or a dog.” This only reminded you of the plans you and Bucky made to adopt a cat, this was torture. Everything was reminding you of what you were about to lose. 
“I’ll look after it babe, you won’t even have to touch it.” Sam tried pleading. 
“And when you’re away on missions?” Olivia argued back playfully. 
“Okay, you got me.” You laughed a little at Sam releasing this was one battle he was going to lose. “What about you guys? You still planning on getting a cat?” 
Bucky looked at you as Sam asked the question, how were you supposed to answer this when you didn’t even know the answer anymore, luckily Bucky notices the panic on your face and jumps in to answer.” 
“Yeah man, we just have to find the time to get to the shelter.” 
“See,” He turns his head to his left, staring at his girl, “Y/n let’s Bucky get the pet he wants.” He was only teasing, he knew logically he couldn’t get a lizard but it was fun to pretend. 
“Lizards and cats are not the same thing.” 
“Y/n/n help me out here please” Sam pleads to you. 
“Sorry Sam, I’m on Olivia's side here.” You reply whilst laughing. 
“Traitor” he mumbles under his breath making everyone laugh. Bucky noticed it wasn’t your real laugh but he wasn’t sure why. Normally you loved bantering back and forth with them. 
You kept on chatting for 20 minutes before the oven timer went off, just in time as Bucky was about to tell an embarrassing story about you.
“Ah! Saved by the bell” you joked. 
“Don’t think I won’t forget to tell it after dinner!” Bucky shouts through, and you can’t help but laugh before thinking about it deeper. Was that one of the things he couldn’t do anymore, was he really embarrassed by you? 
You tried so hard to push those thoughts away and focus on getting through the dinner, you started plating up the food you were so excited about only an hour before. But you got lost in your thoughts again and picked up the hot tray with your bare hand, burning yourself in the process. “Shit.” The tray fell to the floor, luckily you had already plated everything and you were just moving it to the sink. Bucky rushes through and sees the tray on the ground and you gripping your hand towards your chest. 
“What happened?” He comes towards you but you walk back away from him. “What’s wrong?” You could see the worry in his eyes but all you could think about was his words earlier. I can't do it anymore. 
“I’m fine, Bucky.” You didn’t mean to but you snapped back at him. 
“You’re not fine.” he moves closer and tries to reach for your hand but you pull it closer to you, he notices and steps back. “Y/n?” You don’t say anything. “Look please just run your hand under some cold water at least, please?” 
“Can you just take the food through, I’ll be there in a minute.” You tried to hide the shakiness in your voice but he could hear it. This brought him back to the start of your relationship, you both struggled to open up to each other but he thought you had both gotten better at it, which is why he was extra worried.
He nodded, you hated yourself for being the reason he was sad, he didn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s okay doll, just know I’m here for you okay?” You nodded but kept your gaze to the floor. He first grabs the tray with his left hand and puts it in the sink then picks up the plates and brings them through, having to make two trips. He doesn’t want to leave you but he wants to give you the space you asked for. You run your hand under the cold tap for a couple of minutes before drying it off and making your way to the table. 
“You okay y/n?” Sam asks as you sit down next to Bucky, there were only 4 seats at the table so sitting next to him was your only option. Bucky turns to you, concern filling his eyes, he sends a smile your way and you try to send one back. He went to put his hand on your thigh but you see him stop himself and bring it back to his leg. 
“Yeah, all good, just burnt my finger on a tray. How’s the food?” 
“It’s amazing as always.” Olivia answers.
 “Thanks again for having us over.” Sam adds
“It’s a new recipe, and no need to thank me. You know you are both welcome here anytime.” You reply, happy that they like it. 
“Tastes great Doll.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, almost like he was scared to speak, he had a slight smile growing as you turned to him. 
“Thank you Bucky.” 
The rest of the night went just like that, the four of you spoke about planning a trip to New Orleans, you felt yourself get excited about it but then grounded yourself, reminding yourself that it probably wouldn’t go ahead. Well, it maybe would, you just wouldn’t be there. Sam and Olivia stayed for a couple more hours, they couldn’t stay as late as usual as Olivia had picked up an early shift at work the next day. When they left you saw Sam and Bucky whisper something to each other, but you were too far to hear anything. 
Now you and Bucky were alone, it had just been the two of you for 10 minutes and none of you had broken the silence until now. 
“Y/n?” Bucky asks quietly, testing the atmosphere. You took the shakiness in his voice as a sign he was angry, when it was really because he was worried about you. You don’t say anything but bring your head up so you could see him. “Can we talk?” Oh god. This was it. He was gonna do it right now. You weren’t ready, you never would be but you couldn’t do this right now. 
“Bucky, I’m really tired, could we talk in the morning?” You were desperately hoping he would say yes. 
“Yeah..” He stands up and walks towards the bathroom, stopping slightly at you but speeds up again after a moment. “I’m gonna quickly shower then I’ll come to bed.” 
“Okay.” Almost a whisper but he heard it. 
You go through to your room and get changed, ignoring the mess in the kitchen. That was something you’d worry about tomorrow. You crawled into bed, facing the wall and tried to force the sleep to take over. It doesn’t take long for Bucky to come in next to you, you feel him hesitate but he wraps his arms around you and brings his mouth around to kiss your forehead. “I love you.” 
You hoped he’d think you were sleeping, and not know you were pretending. You tried to find comfort in his touch but it only reminded you that this time tomorrow you probably wouldn’t have him wrapped around you. You could feel your eyes growing wetter as you thought about this but you forced yourself to stop before it turned into a full meltdown. That would for sure wake Bucky up. So you sat there in silence, sometimes you could hear a quiet mechanical murmur from Bucky’s arm, and sometimes the one big deep breath he takes every few minutes. By the time morning comes you only got about an hour of sleep, you were exhausted and anxious for what was going to happen today. 
“Doll?” he pauses for a minute waiting for an answer, “Are you up?” 
“Yeah, I'm up.” You don’t turn around to face him like you normally would, you keep your eyes on the wall. 
“I was thinking we could go to your favourite cafe today? The one with the-” You interrupt him and turn around to face him, sitting cross legged. 
“It’s okay Bucky.” He’s confused about what you mean so he stays quiet hoping you'll continue which you do. “I heard you talking with Sam and Olivia..” Bucky’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. 
“You heard us?” Shit. He wanted it to be a surprise. 
“I did. So can you just do it now? Get it over and done with, so we can both move on.”
“What? You want me to do it right now?” 
“Yes. Please, just do it.” You knew you were coming across harsh but you needed this torture to end. 
“Erm. Okay..”  He stood up out of bed and walked over to his dresser, and started to dig through one of his drawers. “This isn’t really how I pictured doing this and I thought you’d be more excited but..” Excited? Why would you be excited over losing him? Once he finds what he was looking for he walks back over and brings himself down to his knees beside the bed. 
“Bucky what-” 
“My turn to talk doll..” What the hell was happening. “Y/n, you have been the best thing in my life since the very first day I met you. It might sound cliche but you’re the missing piece I always thought I’d never find. I know this might seem fast but..” He pulls a small box from behind his back. Oh my god. He was proposing. What. You wanted to stop him but the words wouldn’t come out, it was like your mouth was glued shut. “.. I don’t think I could ever feel happier than I do right now with you but It would mean the absolute world to me if you-” 
“Wait!! Stop!” Bucky’s smile dropped. He’d been scared to ask you but he didnt think rejection was actually a possibility. 
“What?” You stood up and started pacing back and forth, panic setting in. 
“Oh my god Bucky. Stand up!” He stood up slowly and closed the ring box, the loud click making things even realer. “Bucky, what were you talking about with Sam and Olivia?” 
“I thought you heard me? I was telling them I wanted to propose, I want to spend the rest of my time with you. This definitely isn't how I wanted it to go. I’m sorry if I.. I thought you’d want this too.” 
“Oh my god Bucky. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry, I messed up.” You were beginning to lose control of your breathing and your eyes were starting to burn, you were still pacing back and forth. “I thought you wanted to end things, I thought you were done with us.”
“What?! Why did you think that?” He had never been so confused in his whole life. 
“You told them you wanted more, and.. that I wasn’t like other girls.. and..” The tears had escaped now and it was hard to talk properly. “and you said you couldn’t do this a-anymore.” 
“Oh baby.” Bucky walks over to you and pulls you gently to the bed, he sits next to you but keeps one of his arms wrapped around you. “I did say those things but not in the way you think. Did you listen to the rest of what we said?” You shook your head, which only made your growing headache worse. “When I said I wanted more I was talking about marrying you, in case you haven't figured that out by the -I don’t even know if i can call that a proposal- but doll, I want to marry you, I wanted to show you how much I love you and how serious I was about us.” He tries to turn himself slightly so he can see your face properly. 
“I was right when I said you aren’t like other girls, I don’t want you to be like anyone else. I want you to be you, my girl. The girl I fell in love with the first day I met you. I’ve been planning to propose for a while but I couldn’t keep it in any longer, that’s what I meant when I said I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t wait any longer to ask you. I love you so much, doll.” 
Oh god. You were so embarrassed. You had gotten everything so wrong. “Bucky, I'm so sorry. I didn’t, I don’t want things to end with us. I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s okay baby, really it’s okay. I just wished you’d talked to me about it. You can come to me about anything, you know what right?” 
“I do, I promise. I just panicked. I thought I was going to lose you.” Your breathing had started to slow down and you felt like you had control over it again.
“Nope. You’re never getting rid of me. I love you too much for that,” He brought his face down to yours and brushed your noses together before wrapping his arms tightly around you. “And I missed you way too much to ever let go of you again.” 
“I love you too, Buck, so much.. but you’re squeezing me.” For the first time since you heard their conversation you had a real smile on your face and you laughed at him holding you so tight. You were happy. Bucky was happy. 
“There’s the laugh I missed so much. Oh and,” he pulled away just for a second to look into your eyes, placing each of his hands on your shoulders and with a serious voice spoke again, “don’t for one second think that’s how my real proposal will go, I’m gonna make it special, just like you deserve.” he pulls you into his arms and lays you both down.
“I can’t wait, but before you do that..”
“Mhmm?”
“Can we go to the shelter today? I think it’s about time we got that cat.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me doll” 
Maybe it wasn’t healthy how much yours and Bucky’s happiness relied on each other but for you two it worked. Things were perfect. 
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abbyromanoff · 5 months
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Heyyy there would you mind writing wanda x femreader where r dreams of wanda cheating on us with vision so when r wokes up she's mad and grumpy and wanda doesn't know why, now she's sad and confused. Fluff at the end though
VISIONS
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PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 862
WARNINGS: allusions to smut, talks of cheating, jealousy, anxiety, groping, small angst, fluff, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“Baby? Can you please stop ignoring me?” Wanda asked with a hand on your shoulder. You shook it off, rolling your eyes as you threw the blankets further over your body. She sighed, trying to leave a kiss to your exposed skin until you shrugged her off once again.
She didn’t know why you seemed so upset, but she assumed from previous experiences that you simply were having a bad morning. It could be a dream, it could be your period, it could just be an irritating mood. In reality, it was the sight you saw in your deep sleep. It woke you with a sudden cry, your head tossing to the side to instantly try and spot the woman. In the dream, you had just walked in on the pair sharing an intimate moment that was meant for only you and Wanda. The witch tried to explain herself, but you woke up before you could make your final decision.
When Wanda woke, she tried giving you a morning peck on the lips, but you denied. She was confused but let it slide, until you ignored her clear request for sex. Your body was bare, only holding layers of hickeys that you usually would’ve admired, yet she still was - which only seemed to anger you further.
She gave up after nearly half an hour of trying to persuade you into talking and grabbed her book, placing her reading glasses over her eyes and sitting silently. You’d mumble quiet annoyances, but refused to form a normal sentence.
“Can you at least tell me why you’re so mad at me?” No response was given besides a huff. “Please, my love? C’mon, don’t make Mommy sad.” She teased, sensing from your sudden stillness that she hit a nerve. You sucked in a breath, removing the covers as you walked towards the bathroom. She groaned, copying your actions with a shiver as the cold air hit her.
“What are you doing?” You stood under the warm water, letting your hair soak as your body erupted with goosebumps. She tore off her shirt, only stopping when your voice was heard.
“So that’s the first thing you’re going to say to me?” Your eyes fell to her naked chest as you licked your lips, forcing yourself to turn away from the trap.
“What? Can I not take a shower with my partner?” She stepped behind you, venturing her hands to your waist as she rested her chin on your shoulder. She kissed the skin softly, leaving hints of her scent behind as you shuddered.
“This…this isn’t fair, Wanda, I’m supposed to be mad at you.” She let her lips linger, trailing her hands up and down, squeezing your breasts before one traveled to your lower region.
“And why is that?” A frown took over your face, and you lowered your gaze. She paused, turning you around so you would face her. You refused to meet her eyes until it was forced out of you, her finger below your chin guiding you to fit her needs.
“Can you please tell me what I did so I can apologize? I’d really appreciate it, love.”
“It’s stupid,”
“It’s not stupid if it’s upsetting you.” She frowned, stroking your cheek softly as she pulled you in, leaving a peck to the skin before trailing to your plump lips. She hummed against you, allowing herself to soak in the warmth of the embrace you ridded her from.
“I had a dream,” You bit your lip, groaning as she pressed on. She rubbed your arms soothingly, furrowing her brows as she waited for your voice to rise once again.
“And in that dream, I caught you…sleeping with…Vision.” She chuckled lightly, causing your frown to grow.
“Oh, love, how could I ever do that to you? Look, you didn’t hear it from me, but I know a girl with the most beautiful, and most wonderful partner. She loves them with all her heart, and she would never, ever even consider breaking their own sweet little heart.” She smiled, brushing her fingers through your hair when red threatened to cover your skin.
“But,”
“Shh, and I don’t want you to think any different, alright? I love you, I love you so much and that will never change.” She assured, and you grinned to yourself, muttering a small statement that she asked for you to repeat.
“Especially not for a red robot?”
“Especially not for a red robot.” She smiled, pecking your forehead slightly and cradling you with her arms. The soft skin sent a sigh of gratitude your way, and you cuddled closer into the woman.
“I love you so much, Wanda. I’m sorry for being mean, I know you’d never do that.” She hummed, trailing her hand lower once again. It fell upon your bare ass, her palm squeezing with a giggle.
“So soft,”
“Wanda! You pervert!” She shook her head, nuzzling her nose in your neck as she continued to poke at the area. You bit your lip, leaning into her as instinct.
“Now, why don’t you let me make it up to you and show you just how much I love you?”
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satocidal · 6 months
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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“15 missed Calls”—Geto Suguru
Synopsis: Suguru wasn’t a jealous or angry man but then you usually didn’t flaunt your ass a round in a tiny dress either- but hey, Halloween’s every girl’s pass at being a whore, right?
── ˚₊✩‧₊ A/n: ok yeah I’m late to post for Halloween but it’s like barely anything to do with it so <3 also I did stray away from what I’d planned to write but then hehe👉👈 also, thanks to @romiyaro for beta and in general (I swear I’ll get pouty! Reader in some Drabble now💀)
── ˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 3.9k
── ˚₊✩‧₊ warnings: MDNI!!smut!!fem! Reader x Suguru; pussy inspection; degradation; jealous (but totally not toxic) Suguru; orgasm denial; hinted power dynamics; reader is more or less a brat; spitting; Suguru is almost a soft dom? It was supposed to be just smut but idk (PWP)
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“Crawl”
You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.
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“I’ll be back late, don’t wait up on me Su’”
A nod he passed mindlessly—“Sure thing babe- just lemme know if I have to pick you up and don’t get wasted, send me a message if you change locations and-”
A heavy pause settled in, you walked in skittishly—a bashful grin on your face, “This ok?” Question which referred your dress in place.
Mostly, it wasn’t ok—definitely not appropriate in the way the small little satin piece hugged your body, so short Suguru was sure you would flash somebody after two drinks.
But it was Halloween—every girl’s free pass at being a whore.
A sigh Suguru let out, “it’s gorgeous, you’re gorgeous…”
Your smile, guilty, only spread further, “..but?”
He smiled, shaking his head, “Nothing, just take care ok?” A step towards you and a turn of his finger to give him a spin—chuckling as you twirled excitedly and then hugged him—he was very sure it would be a long night.
-
15 missed calls, 25 messages with the same connotation of “are you ok?” And “where are you?”
A single slurred reply to you 40 messages with a “suguwu :)):) m’ kay. Pck me up im 20?”
And with all obviousness, it wasn’t well received at all—so evident in the way tension hung heavy in the car, your seat belt properly holding you in place—his piercing gaze, and the certain placement of his hand on your thigh that kept you as sober as possible.
“Mm sorry,” you slurred out again, head lolling to the side to look at him—stuck at the way his jaw clenched at your words.
Not a word he passed, not a word after that, did you.
And hence, ride back home was quiet, awkward and…in some way, scary.
Click- the door fell shut, locked, entrapping what was of you and Suguru alone in the house.
And just so suddenly, every stitch in the hem of your flimsy red dress began seeming interesting—“What did I tell you?”
You winced and groaned, internally at his tone—“The fact that I trust you to- to, gods,” he paused as if searching for the right words—but you saw it, the switch in his eyes as they darkened just the slightest—“To leave the house dressed as a cheap little whore, one thing I asked for. Your fucked out lil’ brain can’t even do that?”
You stood there in the middle of your apartment, frowning and loosely, berated as a little kid, it seemed.
“Mm’ sorry Su’ it’s just- the girls-”
A sharp glare from him, enough to make your excuses die down your throat—“The girls this and the girls that right? Why was there nobody when I picked you-”
“-I ordered them all Ubers,” you muttered under your breath, a silence resting again.
“And you couldn’t one for yourself, why?”
You paused, hesitated—never once looking at him, “I thought…I thought I had you so…”
That was when Suguru took notice of the pout you held—the one you did all the time, The one he mostly loved.
“Besides,” you began—attention strained on the memory as you thought hard, “I’m not a child to be taken care of, or someone who’ll get lost-”
What you had assumed would quieten everything down only seemed to uproar a side of him you barely saw.
“Excuse me?”
You gulped, hard—“well yeah-”
“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped, moving all so close—“You were down right freezing and shivering when I pulled up, I don’t care what your girls do but your tits were almost hanging out, like a damn slut. Hell, why did you have those 20 dollar bills stuffed in there?”
You almost wanted to chuckle at the last part- it would make for a funny story, but the look on Suguru’s face screamed that it would have to wait till at least, the next day.
“I was alright,” you scoffed, a hand pushing him away—not a budge that it caused in his stance, “The bartender…he was nice- didn’t even let no one come near our drinks and- and even offered me lemons after closing and-”
“-woman,” Suguru interrupted quick, a long sigh withdrawn, “it was me who offered you lemons,”
You waited—a pink tint already dusted your face, ears burning at his words, “oh.”
He sighed again, seemingly recollecting his thoughts as you bit your lip—gods how he adored you—especially when you wobbled slight, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling yourself into him, head resting in his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, against his body—his hands resting on your sides, “I know you’re a big girl alright? I know you can look after yourself,” he pulled away slight, a kiss landing on your forehead, “but it’s my responsibility too you know? And it was majorly annoying to have you gone like that,”
A nod you passed, again an apology mumbled except this time you were met by the shake of his head.
“No you’re not,” he mumbled, “you do this a lot you know?”
And you do, not informing him of the late night work sessions and what not, not informing him on time of a date cancelled, he was rightfully tired.
“Now, here on I’ll just punish you doll, you can deny it and we’ll go off to sleep and deal with it another time or you can be a good girl, my good girl and take everything because frankly, I’m a little too mad to sleep right now,”
You looked into his words, it wasn’t a bad idea, particularly, you would of course never utter a no.
But then, you knew what it entailed, you knew how it ended last time, how embarrassing but then just how much you loved it too—a nod, all the affirmation provided.
“Strip,” a command from there on, “quick,” he added, eyes boring into your form as he did so.
And strip you did, it wasn’t anything new but just the way your fingers trembled, as did your thoughts as you pulled down the satin dress down—Suguru’s groan was loud, sounding throughout the apartment—your breasts well out easily, “No bra?” And you wanted to snort at the obliviousness of the question, of course, no bra.
“At least tell me you’ve got your panties still on,” you licked your lips, face warmed up at his words—it wasn’t anything new, but then why did that certain tone of condescension feel just so right?
Suguru held back another groan as the white g-string came to his view, the one that he bought, “such a slut,” he whispered.
Over the couch, he motioned you—the sound of his tongue clicking as you stepped forward.
“I’m sure only good girls get to be with dignity,” there on his face, he held a grin which you wanted to slap away too—but all to no avail.
“Crawl” everything in his voice assured you that a brat was not what he would appreciate tonight.
You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.
It was simply embarrassing, in the way your hips swayed a little as you moved, all that was your dignity remained flitted to that small piece of clothing that you knew Suguru would probably tear away.
Your gaze remained downturned, too ashamed, humiliated to even look him in the eyes—but just one glance and you’d see that amused smirk, the satisfied expression on his face as he took in the sight displayed for him.
You halted near his feet- a ginger lick of your lips, unsure, uncertain on the sequence to be followed, tugging on the hem of his pants in a confused manner.
“Hm? Don’t know what to do? My, and here I thought the big girl was all so smart to do as she pleased,”
You let out a loud whine at his words, startled a little too as he squatted down to your level—“sh,” he muttered, pressing a finger to your lips, “all I want to hear tonight is an actual apology,”
Another nod, tersely you snapped your eyes away, knowing that’s as all you could do tonight.
He hummed along as well, getting up and motioning you with a finger too, “on the couch please doll,” and you were sure what was to come here on.
Across the arm rest you lay, biting your lip—so exposed, so vulnerable and to think he hadn’t shed a single piece of clothing himself.
His fingers were gentle in the way they touched you, you knew he wasn’t mad—but you knew you’d also end up crying by the time he was done.
They traced you gently, over your back, feathery touches to your spine—tickling almost, he bent down just at that too, down to your ear, “Feeling ashamed hm?”
A hum was all to add to his words as you lay yourself easy, tension ebbing away with the way he massaged you—“you know,” he began, “you should be more ashamed of your actions, acting like a brat rather than being ashamed of your pussy and bare ass on display,”
Just at that you wanted the couch to engulf you, you knew that he knew you did—that was the purpose, “You deserve some punishment eh?” A squeal you let you as his pinned you inner thigh, pushing it apart—“should get your pretty little girlfriends too eh? Make em watch since all of you seem like a bunch of sluts to me,”
All in good humour, you reminded yourself, but a small pout found it’s way along your features, as it always did when Suguru got degrading.
“15 spanks,” he mused, “just pink enough right?” — the sentence was ended with another pinch, 15, you but your lip—there would be something more to it.
“15 and you thank me for each, yeah pretty thing? Your pretty head can do that f’me tonight?”
you bobbed your head, not daring to even turn your head and look at him once.
A patient quiet settled in, your body relaxed further—Suguru smiled wide as he looked at you, so perfect for him, “remind me why you’re here sweetheart?”
The sweetness in his vice was sharp still, condescending in every way, “b-because I uh- I…I was out late? Didn’t—did not call o-or inform you-ah!”
-smack!
Your words simply fell short as the slap landed hard on your ass, so sure to grab it right after and and squeeze—Suguru pulled back, and waited.
“Thank you, Suguru,” you sighed, and you waited right after, expecting the next hit.
“We can stop if it’s too much-”
“-I’ll take it, wanna be a good girl, please i-”
A sharp slap on your right cheek and then the left, aimed carefully, accurately proportional, “atta girl,”
“Thank you,” you groaned at his words, eyes clenched shut, surprised in the way he chose not to hold back in midst of your words—but then, typical Suguru.
Just so, many a times Suguru landed the flat of Palm down on your ass, dusty pink to a rosy one, the process was slow as your backside gained its hue, so pretty.
18 spanks in, Suguru never spanked just the amount he promised, always more—the 19th spank sounded like a crack against your warmed up ass, you didn’t bother showing your gratitude.
A small pause, Suguru chuckled, “nothing? Why don’t I just-” a sharp pain elicited in you bottom half as another slap sounded in the room- a hard spank on your pussy, just hard enough to have you gasping.
“Thank you,” you mumbled out—tears forming at the brink of your eyes now,, form slumping onto the couch, exhausted and spent, sore from the position he’d had you hold so long.
“Bet you are, especially from all this wetness,” another slap on your pussy, “getting wet from your punishment?” Another slap, the tears threatened to spill, at this point, “that’s how sorry you are?”
You wanted to scream at him, thatyou were sorry but it was Suguru and this conversation was nuts to begin with so you remained your quiet, the pout slowly turning to a frown.
“On the couch, legs wide apart,” scrambling to your feet, you detested the way he chuckled as you grabbed onto him for support, the booze never helped and the way you were all so sore from hefty time spent in that uncomfortable position, nothing helped at all,, but that was fine, Suguru was gentle in the way he helped you settle.
“Just a small inspection, ok doll?”
The words and the fate of it came crashing down on you fast.
You gritted your teeth at his words, you knew what that meant—he would find your arousal, shame you for it, punish you maybe and you loved the process, every bit of it.
Sprawled across the couch, feet planted to your side onto the couch, while Suguru rested in the place between, warm breath tickling you, making your hole clench around nothing.
“If I slip these panties down,” you’re weren’t sure why he even bothered asking, the wet spot was all so apparent, “will I find you wet?” Even so, you lay audacious—a shake of your head, his smirk widened.
Fingers hooked into the waist and of your g-string, he pulled quick, not a second wasted , he’d been wanting to do this all evening.
An amused raise if his brow, eyes stuck at the string of your juices that worked its way from your pussy to the gusset of your flimsy panties.
There, finally, in all its glory, your pussy lay glistening with arousal under his gaze—“liar,” he grinned as he stared at it hungrily, “such a fuckin’ liar,” he repeated, almost in a daze.
Subconsciously though, your hips rolled, almost lifting to feel his touch, another set of clicking sounds, “don’t act like a cheap whore, you think I’ll just touch your pussy like that?”
Your eyes watched him, confused, as they stared down at his form in between your legs, kneeling for you, hair tied back.
“Need to see if this pussy’s still worth it babe,” and soon enough, everything made sense—a whine of disagreement rose through you, a glare from him acted enough a filter.
“Please, I’m sorry-”
“-prove it doll,” was all he muttered as he dove his fingers onto your pussy, mindful to only cause discomfort as he prodded at your folds, no more or less.
“Let’s see…” he snickered, “gods,” he chuckled, “think I gotta clean all of this before I can even start eh?”
Your eyes bounced around ditzy, you wanted just him, anything—“but the question is do we do this the right way and I wipe you clean? Or…” and all before the statement even came to its end, Suguru had dived in, pressed his hot tongue flat against your folds, basking in the gasp that you let out.
A sharp inhale you took as he pulled away just as fast, his eyes stuck onto yours, “I think cheap whores like you shouldn’t get the better end of the stick so…” with that, you cursed internally at the box of wipes that Suguru and you kept on the coffee table all the time—you cursed as the pulled out three tissues with ease.
“It’s supposed to cause discomfort so be prepared for that but if it hurts or is too much, let me know, ok?”
You nodded at his words, nervousness flickering on your face and he chuckled, squeezing your wrist slight—little comfort that it provided.
The first dab was ginger, as if testing his boundaries, soon came the second and then the third—until Suguru was easily navigating and cleansing you, almost felt infantilising.
How so very humiliating indeed.
“That’s your apology hm?” The smile jo longer rested on his face, “look at only me when I’m down here,” he added, noticing the slight hang of your head and almost closed off eyes.
“Such a naughty girl that you are,” he mused, “am I to believe you got this turned on from a spanking? Or was it something your girls did hm?” A sharp smack that ended on your hardened clit, he stroked it a little while he was there, “how absolutely pathetic doll,”
Shame blanketed you slight, not covering all of what you wanted for you still remained absolutely naked and open on for him, a satisfied hum he passed, tossing away the second tissue after dragging it from your slit all the way down to your other hole.
“Now that I begin inspecting my girl,” he chuckled at the pout you’d held the entire while, “you brought this upon yourself baby,”
And you had, but particularly, Suguru did think you held up better than most times.
You watched as he eyes your pussy, unsure of how to embarrass you further—he grinned, “my my, it’s so pink underneath all that slick hm? Almost as pink as your sweet ass,” with that he landed a sharp slap to your ass, just as a reminder—giggling at your squeal.
Thick fingers spread apart your folds slowly, tracing it over your pussy lips—a tickling sensation, “is your cunt clean enough to be used hm?”
You let out a sigh as he pulled at your folds, making sure to not once lay a finger on your clit—yet accurate enough to just pull back the hood of it.
“Is it clean enough that I can use your little hole now as a cum dump?” His fingers patted down onto your bare cunt, relishing in the wetness that seeped out your hole—“maybe you don’t deserve it all hm?”
With that, Suguru spit on your cunt, the wetness only ever grew as he Smeared it around, “had to make sure,” he snickered mischievously, “that this pussy’s still mine.”
You wanted to whine and groan, shove his head into your pussy so he eat you until you cried—but you know, you knew all too well that any attempts would only get your hands tied and mouth gagged with your soiled panties.
Suguru hummed, snapping his fingers, “eyes on me doll—now, I think, from the outside, you’re ok,” he smirked, “but I’d need to check the inside too right?”
You nodded at his words mindlessly, of course anything he said would he correct, “you’re lucky I’m not mad at ya, would’ve made ya bounce on that dildo of yours till ya’ cried,”
And by now, your patience was running low—Suguru was a tease, apparent from the way your clit itself twitched for his contact, your hips rolled and hole clenched uselessly—you were dying to fight back.
But you wouldn’t, because Suguru demanded a good girl tonight.
A finger moved into you slow, very slow, hips bucked only to be pushed down harshly by Suguru at that—“Take only what I give you,” he warned, loving the feel of your walls clenching about his finger.
You were to watch him, sure but nothing mattered anymore as your head fell back—“please,” you whimpered, “just a little more.”
He smiled at the way your face contorted about his thick finger, slow as he moved it about, a circular motion and then pushing it against your walls before pulling away entirely.
The slick coated his finger just as before, only this time He brought to his mouth still, tasting you right there and humming.
“Good as always,” he muttered, eyeing carefully your ministrations, ���please Suguru,” you cried out, “touch me p-please,”
Tricky slope.
Suguru was going to touch you anyways, of course he would but your statement only ever pushed away the ebbing orgasm he would’ve provided.
“Of course, my love,” he grinned—slyly before pushing in two fingers roughly into your hole—loving just how you gasped and mewled about it.
Then again, nothing mattered to you anymore.
"S-S—Suguruuu, harder... please. Moremoremore!" your begs fell in a hoarse voice.
“A sweet spot already?” A toothy grin he held as he pumped the two fingers into you slowly, loving the way your eyes rolled back at his touch.
Your thighs were spread out wide on the couch — raised now in the air as he leaned his body close, reaching knuckle deep and curling his thick fingers up into a gummy spot that made you shudder and grip a cushion.
"Ouh, Fuck! Sugu—"
“Ah, ah, ah, only apologies I said, right?” His tone was so soft even so, almost heavenly that you felt.
You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth as he hits deep strokes and massages his fingertips into your gummy walls— sticky juices are all over his hand because of all that cleansing he worked out of you earlier. Suguru smiled to himself, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate getting that couch wet with your juices in the morning—to hell with that.
You looked cute, as you gasped and moaned in his fingers—he took note of the ever present pout on your lips, oh how he wanted to fuck it out of you—but then, the mean thrusts diluted down to gentle strokes soon enough, boy was he soft for you.
Suguru was doting still, knowing that no way you could’ve taken his cock without prep—struggling with even his fingers tonight, he loved being bigger than you.
Bigger, faster, harder and merciless as they pursue your orgasm.
"Gonna cum and make a mess for me again? Yeah?"
"Yes! Please, pleasepleaseplease — make me cum!" you whisper frantically against him.
He chuckled when you moan, pumping his fingers faster and faster, fingering at your clit with his other hand to tip you over the edge.
“Nothing unless I allow it,” he announced finally, ah—that was why he’d been lenient earlier—gods how you hated him.
He studied you intently as your orgasm built up, if only that was his focus onto other things— maybe if he would have had the same determination in general as he does now when finding your G-spot, then he perhaps wouldn’t have struggled with daily life issues as much as he had to.
Suguru's dampened forehead rested against your thighs. He felt the radiating heat of your pussy in this proximity. Those dark eyes never stop staring at you, making sure you're as flustered as possible even in this pleasure-drunk state.
"Fuck... you're gushing..." he says in awe, " 'promise to lick my fingers clean after, yeah?" he rasps against you.
"Yes yes yes!" you say. He's pretty sure that you would have said yes to anything right then; you were so blissed by the way his fingers worked into your soaking hole, by the way they stretched you open just right.
The apartment was filled entirely, with the sound of your gushing pussy squelching with his thrusts—so tempted to attach his tongue onto your cunt but he knew you’d never be able to control yourself after that.
But to tease you was the goal—just slightly, almost a feathery touch he lay on your clit as he began rubbing it again, “shit doll, I do think your pussy’s worth turning a cum dump into,” you groaned at his words—mind almost mush as you chased your high, clenching at his fingers—until he pulled out immediately.
Until your high entirely ebbed away.
A confused and betrayed look you passed him, “wa-wait what? Suguru-! I-”
He simply giggled at your state, slapping your ass one more time as he got up and away, “you’re an idiot if you thought you’d be cummin’ t’night,”
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All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.
Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!
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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months
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The horror and the wild (Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader) Medieval Fantasy AU
You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one. CHAPTER 1 Word count: 4906 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig
This fic on AO3
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— I do not wish to speak about politics before breakfast!
— Your Highness, I’m afraid, politics would not be waiting patiently until you’re finished with your sweet pastries. 
— What do you mean? 
— The Emperor’s army is on our doorstep. 
The look on the face of the Princess – your Princess – was priceless. First, it was a surprise, her adorable features all twisted in a very unladylike gasp. Then, it was terror – the first time you saw her ever express that emotion since the palace was always clear of anything that could scare her royal highness, from mice and snakes, and up to severely ugly people(poor, poor Elvin – he’d a good life if it weren’t for his pointy slabby jaw). Then, and it was the final emotion on her illustrious face – it was anger. To nobody’s surprise, the anger was mostly coming at you. 
You see – you’re a Princess's most loyal handmaiden. Raised under her crib, going to the same classes, doing everything in favor of your royal highness, from warming up her jewelry and to trying the food first to see if it’s poisoned – your whole life’s goal is to make sure that the Princess is as comfortable as possible. You’re her shadow, her servant, the closest to a friend she can have – and if you were the bearer of the bad news, it’s only natural that she would be angry at you in the first instance, and not at the imperial army clashing down at your tiny bordering kingdom. 
— Where are the guards?!
— Judging by the screams I am not sure if there are any left in the outer levels of the castle. And if the King didn’t come with a usual note after breakfast, it’s safe to assume that he is more busy. 
With a trained movement, you quickly duck under the table when the Princess, naturally, throws a plate in your direction. You knew she wasn’t meaning it – your poor, innocent darling Princess, she was just as scared as you were but had not learned of how to hide her emotions under sarcasm and false calmness. Your job is to keep her safe – and calm – even if there is no royal family to serve anymore. You don’t want to think of the possible outcomes – King took you in, a simple peasant girl with no talents whatsoever, and gave you an illustrious education, the most sought job in the whole kingdom, and an allowance that would allow you to study in the real collegium, were they to accept women. You don’t want this place to fall in Northern Empire clutches – and you especially don’t want the Princess to learn the harmful ways of two pretty young women trapped in a castle full of enemy soldiers. 
— How could this happen?!
— I’d have an answer for this question, Your Highness, but you ordered to urn any mail from the Northen Empire. Perhaps, they send us quite a bit of war declarations before finally going down. 
Your hand goes to the side of your skirt, clutching on the suicide dagger – if something happens, you’d have to kill the Princess first, take the sin of killing oneself from her innocent soul – and then go down after her, hoping that your dog-like loyalty would allow you to serve her in heaven. 
The Princess has many things that she’d like to take with her to the afterlife. You better start preparing her package soon – this castle wasn’t built to be protected from the army of beasts, hiding under human skin – your kingdom never provoked any wars, always trying to search for the opportunity of negotiations – and now this comes to bite you right in your soft rear, without a sufficient amount of guards or a suitable army to protect itself. 
You’d pray for the god, but your god wants you to die. 
— Princess, we need to…
Before you could say anything else, an explosion erupts somewhere in the southern tower – the closest place to enter the Princess chambers. You can hear screaming, you can hear laughing – a foreign language, the one you are proficient with, but it never made it less barbaric, less harsh. These people talk like swords clangs against each other – like a harsh metal against your skull. You’d give up anything to not understand what they are talking about. 
There is something to be done before the soldiers arrive, finding only a few guards and two pretty, terrified young things. You might not be afraid of death, but you sure are terrified of what will come before their blades would slit your throat. You do not wish to die with blood between your legs. You do not wish that fate for the Princess either. 
“The Princess should be here.”
“Did Lord say anything about trophies?”
“Don’t take anything now. Tiger said we were never here – he would pay us later”
“What about…”
“Don’t kill the Princess either. Emperor want her to himself, remember?”
“Come on, are we here for a whore?”
“A royal whore, dumbass. Now shut up before Emperor hears you.”
They laugh and you can hear the Princess whimpering, crying softly – all of the layers of harshness are washed away with every tear rolling down her perfect cheek. You move to them as fast as you can – these stupid clothes allow you at least some freedom of movement, saved from the excessive decorations and expensive, heavy fabrics – you are only as few levels higher than cleaning rags. you could probably rip away the lower levels of your skirt and run – the Princess wouldn’t even be able to move without your hand steadying herself. 
You need strength to not slap her right now – you know that the pain on her perfect puffy cheek would help get her to listen, but nothing in your body moves to ever hurt her, no matter the cause. You push yourself to the door, thinking – your castle isn’t the highest one in the whole world, if anything, the Princess would be able to escape either via the window or the secret tunnels – but they would search for her, they would never accept defeat like that. Even if you’d stall them for long enough, pulling every bit of luck you don’t have – they wouldn’t stop if they had the goal of catching the Princess. 
— Your radiance, we have to go!
— Where? The castle is going to crumble any second now, and Mama and Papa are…
You press your ear against the tough wood, listening to the soldier’s speaking – language is even harsher now when the adrenaline runs through your veins instead of blood. You would give up anything to be strong – to have your dancing and embroidering lessons switched to sword fighting, to archery, to read dark arcana books instead of romance novels that you and Her Preciousness liked so much. Your hands are soft and delicate, only a bit harsh from occasional cleaning and serving – you’re a shame to any servant in the castle, a house pet made to entertain and please, not to fight and work. 
The Princess is a cherished treasure for your kingdom. Protected and hidden away, the King was smart enough to know that a royal gem like her would make all the old rulers of kingdoms surrounding yours go into a frenzy – so Her Radiancy wasn’t ever allowed to any royal mingling and balls until she’d reach the age of at least 21. Her birthday was next month – a small mercy, knowing that there was a possibility of never getting of that age. 
“Is that a Princess?”
You hear a woman – probably one of the higher members of the court, considering her high-pitched accented whimpers with a familiar voice. God bless her soul and dedicate her a quick death – you don’t want to think what would come of her if not for this prayer.
“Princess should be in her quarters. This one definitely doesn’t speak like a royal meat”
“How do we even know which one is the Princess?”
“She should speak like one. Would be easier if her family ordered a fucking portrait.” 
But…you were with the Princess your whole life. You know how to act like her, you know how she talks, how all royals talk. You know how manners, you know how to sing, how to dance, you received the education that allowed her to copy your study work and give it to her personal teachers – her own reflection wouldn’t copy her better than you would. 
You’re young, like a Princess, you’re pretty, almost like a Princess – and you’re loyal like a dog, itching to pay your debt to the royal family. 
— Your Highness! You need to run, please, just take the secret route through the walls and…
It was the most horrible moment for her to put her foot down.
— I…I live to serve the royal family. Dying for you will be the greatest of honors. 
— I will not just leave you here!
— They’d defile and kill us both, Your Highness. But if I just pretend to be you, they won’t come looking for you, won’t they? They would have what they wanted and you will be free.
— What about you? 
You’d feel hurt for how quickly she ran to the secret tunnel – if such feelings were normal for a servant to have. You’d feel betrayed if it wasn’t the life or death situation – if you weren’t putting on her dress as swiftly as possible before the soldiers would come running for you. It’s funny, how you always wanted to try her dress – how you were jealous of everything she had, even if you were the closest to her – you pride yourself in not caring about such silly mortal possessions, and yet, you always wanted to try something as beautiful as her dress. 
You stare at yourself in the mirror – terrified, small, ready to die at any point or to be hauled back to the Northern Empire like a piece of meat. Dress suits you, the bright pink would tell about innocence and radiance – but not it smells of blood and betrayal. If the soldiers thought that the Princess killed herself in her room, they would surely not think about trying to find her. 
You push the tiny dagger against your wrist, praying to all of your knowledge of medicine that your death will be quick and as painless as possible. You left out a silent prayer – knowing that the god would only welcome you after your death. 
Not a war, Horangi corrects himself – a massacre. 
***
Tiger of the North was fucking tired.
This whole mission – declaring war that no one seen and no one wanted, marching through the street without an army behind him, felt more like a bandit’s doing than something that a general of the best army in the world would do. This whole operation is a stunt, an order from the Emperor that no one expected – seriously, sometimes he still felt like a child with new, exciting toys. For all he knew, König never saw a Princess – yet, he sent his best men to take her out, not caring that this would mean a war on the bordering kingdom.
Not his fault this shithole didn’t even bother to reply to any of the Emperor’s letters regarding the marital status of the Princess. Not his fault they don’t even have a proper army – the king died, gutted like a fucking pig, and the queen followed soon after. Their unit can count less than 20 people, with royal hounds and other animals to help – yet, no one was able to foresee them entering the castle and butchering it. It’s a hunt, not a war or even an assassination – a hunt for the Princess, the useless fucking thing. 
If they’d only bothered to get at least some portraits – something to tell what she looks like. Perhaps, she is ugly, a mix of a toad that fucked a pile of shit. Perhaps, she is crazy and eats pillows and keeps her handmaidens' heads like a trophy. Perhaps, she don’t fucking exist and the king just didn’t want to say out loud that his dick was never working enough to produce an heir. 
— Search the quarters! I don’t want them to have time to know that their precious king is dead. 
The low rumble of König beside his almost makes him dart from surprise. He wears a mask, of course, not even trusting his people to see how he looks like – perhaps, he is as ugly as a toad that…ah, shit, he is using the same comparison again. 
A faceless ruler and a faceless Princess – a match made in heaven. 
— You think other kingdoms would send their condolences? 
— I’m sure that Price is already aching to write a congratulatory letter for the expansion of the empire. A nice addition to the title, ja? 
The emperor laughs, a sword in his hand, dark from the king’s blood. Horangi still doesn’t understand why he would decide to go on such a dangerous operation – if anything, they could haul the Princess back to the capital, or at least the nearest Empire territories – but no, König decided to go here himself, searching for a Princess that would, surely, not be worthy his attention. If this man didn’t want to marry all the options other kingdoms offered him, he surely wouldn’t be satisfied with a girl from this shithole of a country. Their land is barely enough for a normal castle, let alone all of the riches that the Empire provided. 
Yet, König stumbles in every room, searching for something – for someone. Other soldiers don’t dare to take trophies in front of their emperor, knowing that this operation should be as secretive as possible – no other rulers would bat an eye for a mysterious royal passing and the quick marriage of the Princess of this kingdom, but Graves would be quite concerned and bitching about the Northern Empire coming close to his kingdom. God, if König could just bathe every last one of them in blood, he would have. 
— Sir, I believe the Princess should be here Unless she killed herself already. 
— Those people honor death more than they do life. Better be fast before I’d have to marry a corpse. 
— We could bring her back. 
— Nothing can wash off the dead smell even after resurrection. You think why Krueger can only have sex with common whores? 
They both have to suppress their laugh at the thought of the royal advisor. Poor, dead Krueger, serving a contract that even death would not be able to break – it’s a good thing to have it on their side. Provides a good amount of jokes just from being around him. 
König rushes to the door that looks the most guarded – judging only by the amount of dead servants around it. The Princess must be here and, knowing the traditions of your kingdom, he has about a minute before you’d kill yourself, yelling something ridiculous about finding solace in death and that they would never take you alive. The door comes crashing down ridiculously easy – or it’s his strength challenging in the form of barbaric savagery. When he pushed into the room, he didn’t see what he was expecting to see. 
He sees something better. 
You look divine in the moonlight, your form, draped in an expensive dress that you only managed to take on halfway through, getting stuck in that stupid corset and billions of tiny bows and cutting jewels. You look majestic, godlike, you look like something from a fairytale. He was anxious before this, thinking if it was worth it – overthinking every bit of the operations, evaluating if the enemy kingdoms would be fine with him just taking you. König wasn’t sleeping a good few nights before this – now he looks at you and wants to kneel in front of your perfect form. 
— No wonder they didn’t have portraits. They wouldn’t capture your beauty. 
He shook the knife – little thing, as dainty as you are – from your trembling hands. Poor thing terrified of him – he’d pick you up and haul you on your shoulder already, but he wants to take a moment and just admire the comparison between his huge, muscular arms and your fragile form. He knows he is big, imposing, threatening – but compared to you, he feels like a war god paying tribute to his newest sacrifice. 
You shake in his grasp, not fighting it – Princess wouldn’t fight, you remind yourself. If killing yourself is not possible, if your dignity is tarnished, the death and torture shall be met with silence – you put your lips together, as firmly as you can. Still, you can’t stop yourself from sobbing when his hand goes to cup your face – a faint trace of your makeup staining his dark gloves. 
— This is the declaration of war. You were…
— This is no war, meine Liebe. How could we fight the nation with a dead king? 
The Princess would cry, learning about the death of her parents. You try to force more tears, making yourself look as miserable as possible – it isn’t hard in this brute’s hands, with his soldiers surrounding you – but, for some reason, he doesn’t look surprised when you are not crying immediately at the mention of the death of your supposed parents. 
He laughs, cupping your face in a rough, crude gesture. He shouldn’t treat Princess like this – even you are not used to men being this vile, to speak of such lewd matters with his men. They surround you, laughing, not even bothering to pay the least bit of respect in front of their Emperor. 
He wears a hood and it makes him look like an executioner, not a ruler. But, perhaps, you would welcome a butcherer more than you would a husband. 
— Let me go! The guards shall rise to my abduction and they will not leave thou to…
You don’t even need to force yourself to speak like her – you’re royal by any means, other than blood and service. You can imitate her your whole life if needed, shadowing her your whole short existence – it only hurts you more when you are praying that the Princess, dressed up in your garments, would be able to escape. You know that someone will save her, and take care of her – it’s just like the plot of your favorite romance book. An abandoned Princess of the burned kingdom rises to be the wife of a mysterious, masked blood knight, saving him from pushing his soul into the darkness. You, in this story, would be just a minor victim for the author to kill.
— The guards would rise if they weren’t dead, Princess. Too late to call for them now. 
He sneers at this “Princess” like a snake, ready to sink her teeth into your soft, limp body. You whimper, finally trying to get your knife from his hand – as gracefully as you can, remembering that you are to stall the time for her to escape, not to actually save yourself. He laughs and lets you go suddenly – only to pick you up like you weigh nothing. Pick you up like a bride, not a pig for him to gut. 
The tip of your ears is burning – your whole face is burning, you feel ashamed, embarrassed, angry, every emotion swirls in your head as he doesn’t even try to be subtle about his affection. You thank god for the layers of skirt you are wearing – but the upper part of the dress is barely holding together, showing a scandalous amount of shoulder. You are tainted – a scandal in the court, if there was a court alive. 
— Put me down this instant. My kingdom will not just accept these levels of disrespect!
You say this weakly than you wanted to. He laughs – thunder and bear roar, ocean waves against the mountains – you whimper when his hand goes to rip the upper part of your dress entirely, leaving you barely covered, with only three layers of clothing and a corset between you and his horrible, dangerous hands. A lady should not be seen by men when she is in less than five layers of clothing – still, you feel much better when the heavy fabric lets go of your skin. Still, you feel mortified, knowing, what would happen when he started to take off your clothes. 
Well…you think you know what will happen. You and Her Highness read books with a scandalous amount of intimacy – touches, hugs, kisses even, the last book having record five instants of the main heroes being in close proximity with each other – you also know that whenever a male enemy soldier captures a woman, he is doing…something before killing them. Not quite sure what, but obviously torturous. 
— The only kingdom that is left for you, your Highness, is what lies between your legs. I’ll be sure to pay my regards later.
Before you could say something – anything for that matter, he already hauls you away, still stuck in his hands like a trophy. You thank god that he doesn’t see the difference between you and the Princess. You never knew your acting talents would be of this amount, but nonetheless, you feel complete, knowing that the Princess is safe and sound. 
— What is the purpose of your actions? 
You are weak, voice whimpering and quiet. You don’t want to touch him, but the hungry gazes of his soldiers make you weak and fragile – you cling to him, trying to cover your modesty. The corset is a part of the wardrobe that no fine lady should ever show to men – yet, this is the only thing now that is keeping your tits together, saving at least some of your dignity. The heavy skirt of the torn dress lingers on your legs, covering you as much as barely holding up fabric can. König’s chest rumbles with a laugh when he notices you clinging onto him like a helpless kitten. 
— I’m taking my bride as your parents were not kind enough to answer any of the proposals.
— Why didn’t you just visit? 
If it were for him, he would just sprawl you on the ground and take what he wants. He would, were he a simple soldier, not the North Emperor – he would if there weren’t any witnesses if there were no intentions of marrying you later. But alas, he needs your hands in marriage – he needs you whole in marriage, from head to toe, from your heart to your soul, from your pussy to that sweet mouth of yours – and he can’t have all that unless he is patient. 
— I did. Right now, for that matter.
— As the only heir to the throne, this would mean the death of my country. You can’t just…
— Who is there to stop me, little one? Your parents? Dead. Your army? They would kneel for my men were we at actual war. 
You close your mouth. He laughs again, this terrifying hood of his moving when he shakes his head. You sob, tears flowing freely down your cheeks – it’s a wonder you can still talk while crying like this, but you need to keep up the act and you need to stall the time as much as possible. His hand goes to wipe away your tears and, for a second, you almost want to bite him. But, Princesses don’t bite – they lay in the hands of their captors and wait for princes to save them. 
— The other kingdoms would protect us, we had war pacts!
— Were you loved enough to start a war with the Empire to protect you from getting married? 
— I shall…
— You’re too young to speak like a queen, Liebe. Leave that to me, ja? 
You open your mouth. 
You close your mouth. 
You open your mouth again. 
— Please, let me go. 
This is a quiet, soft sob – König stops for a second, looking at your fragile, vulnerable expression. You’re as weak as a kitten, as adorable as a bunny – and precious, his little treasure, tucked away nicely in the deepest corners of this kingdom. He almost feels bad for breaking you, for taking you away. He killed many men, the king included, and he captured more land than his father ever could dream of – the biggest empire lies at his hands and yet, he feels weak when you cry in his hands. 
It still suits you more – a pained expression, pure terror, all the emotions that a young woman like you should experience when she is captured by someone like him – he believes in terror through submission and the tears streaming down your face makes his cock twitch in his pants. 
— I have all the right for you, little one. It’s your father’s fault that you were not protected more. 
He laughs, his large, imposing hand goes to cup your ass – you don’t even understand how his touch manages to get through this many layers of clothing. Your skirt is in complete disarray when he touches your legs, squishing and destroying the crinoline parts and whale bones. So much went into creating this skirt, a horrifying construct that never allowed the Princess to move freely, stuck in one place like a glorified little dolly – now it becomes your grave, mortifying and freezing you in one place. 
— You can’t…no, please, don’t…
He grabs your hips with the ferocity of a warrior, not an emperor. Rulers shouldn’t kidnap Princesses from neighboring countries, and they shouldn’t lead their troops on an operation that would destroy any diplomatic relationships with them – but he stands here, no more than a normal soldier, and you were never this terrified in your life before. He is a monster, a beast, an anomaly that shouldn’t exist in this world – even your desire to protect the Princess isn’t stopping you from crying and shaking. You bite your lips and sob softly, quietly, hoping he won’t just throw you to his men. 
— This is what politics leads to, no? Your father decided to stop being diplomatic…and I did too. 
He isn’t my father, you want to scream. He did nothing but take you from the streets, and slums you were scrambling aimlessly like nothing more but a tiny critter under his boots – he gave you everything, any book you wanted, the best company in the whole kingdom. He isn’t your father, still, but you pay for his mistakes – mistakes that you had no idea of. Princess ordered you to ignore any mail that would come from “This Northern brute” and you didn’t know that it could come to this. 
If only you were to steal those letters and read them instead of throwing them away…but what would it come to? Princess wouldn’t marry someone like König, she had no like for the emperor twice her age, for the human who defiled the very laws of nature, sitting in his high castle, ordering the undead soldiers around. Monster with, probably, three heads and two faces, with four hands hiding under his magnificent armor. A beast who is…
A best who is cradling you in his arms like you were his lover, not his victim. 
— Put me down. Please. 
— I’m getting tired of listening to little Princesses wailing. Tell me, Liebling, do you wish to continue this journey quietly or unconsciously? 
His hand goes to your neck – no doubt, he would be able to squish the life out of you if he so wished. No doubt, you are fucked – utterly and completely, with his ability to do whatever he wants your inability to stop him in any way. Sobbing softly, not wanting for him to continue this humiliation, you simply nod – to whatever option he deems appropriate. Princess would be screaming, yelling for help, and she would stomp her adorable feet on the ground until she’d get what she wanted – but you are no Princess, and playing pretend already makes you miserable enough. 
— I do not wish to see the destruction of my kingdom. 
— It’s not destroyed, little Princess. Merely defiled, captured and burned down. 
— You didn’t…
— Of course not, kleine Hase. I wouldn’t dare to burn the newest addition to my empire…unless you would make me to. 
It’s not a threat – it’s a promise, poorly concealed by the obvious smile in his voice. You cling to his chest and hear the rumble of his laugh when he pushes his cape over your shivering form. It’s a small form of comfort, but an unwelcome one – you’d rather be shivering, naked, and exposed in front of his troops than find comfort in the way he treats you. His cloak is heavy, more suited for the harsh weather of the central parts of the Empire – not your kingdom, mostly warm and wet, with bountiful rains and plentiful soil. You understand why he would want this land – you don’t understand why he would want you. 
— Don’t hurt my people. 
— Be nice then. You can be nice to your husband, ja? 
If you weren’t a Princess, you’d claw his fucking eyes out – get your dainty hands under his hood and scrap the pulsating flesh, turn his face into a mush of blood and gore. If you were real Princess, you would declare war on the Empire and die the protector of your kingdom – not a terrified girl. 
But you’re neither a Princess nor a commoner. 
You push your lips together, allowing König to take you away. Accepting your fate not with dignity, but with quiet, fearful acceptance. 
2K notes · View notes
seoktized · 16 days
Text
coulomb’s law (s.jy + s.mt)
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working on a science project with two jocks wasn’t the worst thing ever.. even if you all got locked in a room together.
word count: 3.1k (unedited 😀)
genre: college au, smut
warnings: fingering, creampie, tit play, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex. literally just smut idk what to tell u 😭
a/n: LOWKKKey self indulgent bc AWRF i love matthew and jake. finally back writing yayy!!! first long fic too omgomg pls tell me if u like, it means a lot!
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you always had a like for all things science, so when you heard you’d be completing a science project you were ecstatic.
‘this would be easy’ you told yourself.
you believed that until you were paired with seok matthew and jake sim who happened to be your former crushes and star football players for your college.
the two of them knew they were stars. matthew and jake didn’t care about doing school work, often paying another student with daddy’s money.
the two were untouchable. because who would bench their best players? especially when they’re so close to making it to the championship?
when your professor announced your name along with the two boys’ you quickly realized easy was an understatement.
after everyone was given their partners, your professor dismissed class in order for everyone to get started on the project.
you stood up and collected your things, mentally preparing yourself to hear either boy to scoff and tell you do the project yourself.
you made your way down the aisle to the area matthew and jake were sitting in, the two of them were engaged in a conversation
‘they probably didn’t hear what the professor even said’ you thought.
your suspicions were confirmed when jake looked up at you with a puzzled look on his face. the three of you rarely crossed paths, so he had the right to be confused.
matthew saw jake’s expression and followed his eyes. the two boys staring at you made chills run down your arms, you could sense the judgment in their eyes.
“are you just going to stand there or…” matthew asked, an awkward expression was present across his face.
“right, um, we were assigned as a group for the science project.” you had a tight grip on your books, the way jakes eyes scanned your figure made you feel small.
“science project?” matthew looked over to jake who shrug his shoulders, “what science project?”
you rolled your eyes, “the professor was literally talking about it the whole time.”
jake chuckled, “all i heard was blah blah blah.” matthew laughed at jakes words.
“well, it’s due in two weeks so i’d like to get started,” you reached into your pocket to grab your phone.
“give me your numbers so we can arrange time to work on it.” you stuck your phone out in their direction.
matthew’s eyebrows raised and jake had a smirk growing across his face.
“woah, asking for my number already? i don’t even know your name sweetheart.” jake teased.
you visibly cringed at jakes attempt at flirting, it was no surprise jake would try and fuck anything on legs. you swore to yourself you’d never give in his advances, or so you thought.
matthew grabbed your phone and typed in his name and number before handing it to jake to let him do the same. jake laughed a little as he was typing in his information. he handed the phone back and you saw a heart emoji next to his name.
you glanced up at him and he shot you a wink. quickly looking back down to your phone, you created a groupchat for the three of you. sending a ‘hi’ to make sure they were in the chat.
“anyways, i’ve gotta get going. i’ll text you guys later to work out the details.” you gave an awkward smile to which matthew responded with a wave.
“bye, doll.” jake grinned. after you turned you heard a hand collide with someone’s chest. you assumed that matthew smacked jake because of how desperate he seemed.
texting them was even harder. the boys barely replied. when one of them did respond, it was a short ‘can’t we have practice’
looking down at your phone, you read matthew’s text which was another excuse as to why they couldn’t join you.
sighing, you set your phone down and decided to start on the project on your own. you knew from the beginning it would be like this. you felt a bit silly for almost believing they’d try to work with you.
you were honestly glad they weren’t able to show up. the whole process would go by much faster without the two of them goofing off the whole time.
you pulled out your laptop and placed it on the table. glancing out the door of the small room you were in, you noticed the usually crowded library was empty. just you and the nice librarian who was busy tidying up her desk area.
opening your laptop you began to type away, looking at different sources to complete the research portion of the assignment. you were pulled away from your research by a buzz from your phone. flipping it over you saw a text from matthew.
matt: practice was canceled and we don’t have anything else to do
we’re coming to work on the project
y/n: okay. i’m in room 28
‘*they really wanna work on this project?*’ you thought. you shrugged your shoulders and continued to work as much as you could before they arrived.
minutes go by and you hear jake being obnoxiously loud. the librarian told him to be quiet and he said a small “sorry, sorry.”
matthew entered first, jake following behind like a lost puppy. jake shut the door behind him and the two walked over to you. jake slammed his backpack on the table a little too hard making you jump.
“shit- sorry,” he quickly apologized.
“so what do you want us to do?” matthew asked, pulling out a chair so he could sit down.
“well, i’ve started on the research part,” you turned your laptop around to the boys, showing them the progress you’ve made so far.
“so you guys could go through and start writing out the experiment we have to do. i’ll send it to you.”
the two nodded and brought out their own laptops. you quickly typed away on your computer, sending them the doc you were working on.
matthew was actually focused on working. jake on the other hand kept sighing as his short attention span was creating a problem for him.
“why the hell do you keep sighing?” matthew snipped, starting to get frustrated.
“i cant focus.” jake whined, his hands combing through his hair in frustration.
matthew rolled his eyes, “dude it’s only been 30 minutes.”
“actually, it’s been an hour. an hour of doing nothing!” jake exclaimed.
matthew shook his head in annoyance at jake. you felt your body start to ache from being slouched over for so long.
you stood up to stretch, “should we get snacks? there’s a vending machine around the corner.” you closed your laptop.
the two boys agreed and stood up to leave the room.
jake reached the door first and twisted the handle. it didn’t budge. he started to twist it more in panic until matthew pushed him out of the way to try himself.
the door was locked from the outside.
your eyes widened, realizing you were locked in a room with jake and matthew.
you pushed the two out of the way trying the handle as if you were stronger than the two of them. unlucky for you, the door did not open.
jake groaned and rubbed his face with his hands.
“ms. kim! can you come open the door?” you yelled out, hoping the librarian heard you.
seconds passed there was no answer. you let your forehead fall against the door, sighing in defeat.
“let me try again,” jake stepped up to the door, attempting to open it again. it didn’t work.
“i guess we’re stuck in here.” matthew shrugged.
you didn’t reply, instead you made your way back to where you were sitting. plopping down in the chair, you opened your laptop back up.
the two boys exchanged glances for a second. jake smirked and nodded at matthew. they returned to their seats as well.
“let’s play a game.” jake said.
his facial expression told you he was up to no good. but you didn’t want to bore yourself to death with work so, you agreed closing your computer once again.
“what game?” you asked.
“truth or dare” matthew smirked.
you pressed your lips into a line, nodding at matthew.
it could be fun. what could go wrong?
“alright jake first, truth or dare.” matthew asked.
“mm.. truth.” jake replied.
“you’re no fun. but hmm.. what’s your.. biggest turn on?” a wicked grin was on matthew’s face.
your eyes widened at matthew’s words. you quickly realized this wasn’t gonna be a fun game. jake chuckled at your expression before pretending to think.
“i don’t know.. probably… begging? something about a girl begging for my dick seems so sexy,” his words were laced with cockiness. matthew nodded and turned to you.
matthew’s gaze made chills run down your spine.
“truth or dare?” jake sat up, waiting to hear your answer.
“um, truth.” you quickly said. matthew shook his head.
“have you ever thought about fucking one of us?” matthew raised his eyebrows, both boys leaned in waiting for your answer. matthew was bold.
“n-no.” you lied. the two of them could see right through it though, nodding and continuing on with the game.
“matt! truth or dare?” jake exclaimed.
“dare.”
“ooh!” jake rubbed his hands together, you on the other hand was scared for what jake was going to say.
“i dare you to… makeout with her for 30 seconds.”
your wide eyes shifted from matthew over to jake, staring at him in bewilderment.
matthew turned to you, “is that okay?” you looked back over to him and paused for a second before slowly nodding.
“i need to hear you say it, love.” he purred.
“yes.. it’s okay” you squeaked.
matthew moved closer to you, turning his head to jake, “count for us.”
“alright, go.” matthew placed his hand on your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. quickly melting into the kiss, you let matthew slip his tongue into your mouth.
your own hands that were once in your lap had found their way to his hair. matthew was a good kisser causing you to almost go drunk on his lips.
“times up!” jake interrupted.
matthew pulled away and you chased his lips, wanting more.
“woah, doll, we gotta continue our game yeah?” he chuckled at your eagerness.
pouting, you leaned back into your chair.
“mkay jake, truth or dare?” matthew asked.
“mm i’ll go with dare now.”
“i dare you to play with y/n’s tits.” matthew’s eyes were glued to your chest watching as it moved up and down from your breathing.
jake shot up and moved around the table to where you were. feeling a little bold, you took off your own jacket and shirt. your white lacy bra on display for the two of them to see.
jakes eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. to your right, you heard matthew chuckle.
jakes hands made their way to the back of your bra, swiftly unclipping it. he slid your bra off slowly, his eyes never leaving your chest.
moving in closer, he stuck his tongue out, giving kitten licks to your hardened nipples.
even though it was something small, the pleasure he was giving you was overwhelming. you were completely turned on from making out with matthew and this was the cherry on top.
you remember how you told yourself you wouldn’t let jake have you this vulnerable, but all those thoughts subsided the moment he latched onto your mound.
you bit your lip in an attempt to suppress the whimpers that threaten to slip from your mouth.
jake was basically making out with your chest at this point, one of his hands was fondling with the one he didn’t have in his mouth.
you let your head tilt back before you heard matthew’s voice ring through your ears
“time’s up!”
you lifted your head up, looking at matthew who was visibly hard and who obviously didn’t want the two of you to stop.
jake detached himself from your tit with a loud pop before sitting back in his own chair. his eyes were still glued to your chest.
“did you enjoy yourself?” matthew asked.
you nodded—not being able to speak— the two boys and their previous actions was the only thing on your mind.
“alright princess, truth or dare?” jake’s voice was a bit deeper signaling that he must be as turned on as you are right now.
“dare.” you breathed out.
the two boys exchanged a glance before smiling at you. they both stood from their chairs, moving closer to you. and though you were almost their height, them standing above you like this made you feel small.
“we dare you to let us fuck you.” matthew’s hand went to your jaw once again, stroking it softly.
jake bent down to let his hand trail up your thigh, rubbing dangerously close to your heat. they were waiting for you to give them the green light, which you did with a small “go ahead,”
jake’s hand had now traveled to the waistband of your pants, tugging on them to signal that he wanted to take them off. you lifted your hips up in order for him to slip them off of you.
matthew, on the other hand, was placing kisses all over your exposed chest, tasting what his friend previously did.
jake’s hand pressed against your clothed cunt, watching as the wetness seeped through your panties.
“matt look,” he chuckled, matthew detached from your chest to look down.
“fuck, doll, you’re so wet for us. such a good girl,” matthew praised, you let out a whine at his words.
the want, the need for them was getting stronger. who would thought that a science project would’ve led to you getting this wet for two star football players.
you pushed your hips against jake’s hand, trying to get some friction where you needed him the most.
“you want us to fuck you, baby?” jake asked, letting his hand pull away from your core. he wanted you to beg for them, for him.
“mhm, please. please fuck me.” you whimpered.
“okay love, we will.” matthew replied before jake could.
the two of them raised from their positions for a second in order to rid themselves of their clothes. they were hard. and big. you were in for it.
“i want her mouth. her pretty swollen lips would look so good around my dick.” matthew told jake. he nodded in response to matthew.
“hop on the table for us, doll.” jake said. you quickly moved to the table, laying down for them.
matthew came over to one side and leaned down to place a kiss on your lips. when he pulled back he let his thumb rub over your bottom lip. his other hand was wrapped around his aching cock, stroking it slowly.
“alright baby. i’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?” matthew asked.
you nodded, sticking your tongue out for him. he grinned in response before placing his dick on your tongue. you let your lips close over his girth and he began to thrust in and out slowly.
jake was now on the side adjacent to matthew. he pulled off your panties, discarding it with the rest of your clothes.
his thumb came in contact with your clit, making you moan around matthew’s cock. matthew winced at the feeling, whispering that your mouth felt so good.
two fingers were now circling your hole. jake pushed his fingers into your warm cunt, thrusting in and out before adding another finger. he continued his ministrations before deeming you prepped enough for his cock.
“gonna fuck you now.” he said before he slowly pushed in.
you all groaned in unison, pleasure on high. matthew was now thrusting at a faster pace, getting lost in the heat of your mouth.
jake was letting you adjust to his size before bottoming out. he stayed there for a second to relish in the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing around him so deliciously.
“fuckk you’re so tight-” jake winced. you tapped your foot on his thigh, signaling that he could move.
he started a quick but deep pace, watching as your tits bouced with every movement. his thrusting cause you to move against matthew’s cock, every thrust hitting the back of your throat.
matthew admired how you were gagging and sputtering on his cock. his hand brushed against your jaw, gripping it a little to thrust faster. you noticed he was starting to near his high as his breaths and groans started to increase.
he slipped himself out of your mouth, “fuck- open up.” he said as he started to stroke his length.
you obeyed and opened your mouth letting your tongue slip out too. he came on your face tongue with a loud groan.
“so so good for me, fuck.” he said as he came down from his peak.
jake’s thrusts were now relentless in an attempt to get both of you to cum. matthew intensely watched the area where you and jake were connected. he felt himself getting hard again at the sight.
your loud moans weren’t supressed anymore which boosted jake’s ego.
“fuck fuck fuck i’m close jake please!” you begged.
“me too, doll, fuck! can i cum inside?” he was roughly gripping your waist, rough enough to leave bruises.
“yeah, i’m on the pill!” you whined at the thought of him filling you up.
matthew was stroking his cock at the scene before him, his eyes flicking between your face and your cunt.
“god, i’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up,” jake moaned. you nodded at his words.
one more thrust was all it took for you to some undone, your back arching off the table, moaning loudly. jake came soon after with a “shit!” leaving his mouth from the way you were clenching around him. his hips were flush against yours, letting your cunt milk him dry.
he pulled out slowly and you whined from the loss of contact. matthew had came in his hand beside you, all three coming down from your highs.
the room was full of panting, everyone attempting to catch their breath.
“hello? is anyone in there?” you heard from outside the door.
all three of your heads shot up towards the door.
“yeah! we’re still studying. give us a second!” matthew shouted.
you stood to put on your clothes, struggling a bit due to your wobbly legs.
the two boys did the same before packing up their things. matthew saw how you were having trouble so he placed his things down to help you out. jake helped by packing your things into your bag.
you all made your way to the door, matthew’s hand was on the small of your back to stable your walking. jake opened the door, smiling at the librarian before you all brushed past her to leave.
“maybe we should work on projects together more often,” jake smiled. matthew made a noise of agreement and you nodded.
and that you did, always making A after A on every project with your new group.
465 notes · View notes
xlpoww · 8 months
Text
let him.
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chocolate covered strawberries <3
highly requested, fluffy, heart warming part two of she'll be the best you ever had if you let her!! finale here!! when you were a waiting room
no warnings!
word count: 696
opla! sanji x f! reader
the gentle crash of the waves, the rocking of the boat, it brings a sort of comfort to you. the going merry is truly a wonderful ship, a perfect place to have the honor of calling home. even so, the stinging feeling in your chest had only slightly dulled since deciding to stay behind on the ship. everyone else had gone to check out the local town, but you couldn't bring yourself to have to tag along to watch more of sanji flirting with every woman he sees.
with a shake of your head, you hum to yourself and continue on cleaning the kitchen. it was a feeble attempt at a distraction; even when going out of the way to avoid him, you find yourself in his favorite room.
-
sanji can’t help the smile on his face, there’s almost a skip in his step as he walks back to the ship. in his arms was a bag full of all the ingredients needed to make his favorite girl chocolate covered strawberries.
when you had come up onto the deck to let the crew know you wouldn’t be joining them on the excursion, he couldn't help the frown that formed. he’d been looking forward to wandering the beautiful streets with you. no girl he had ever met had made him do such a double take, and you hadn't even noticed. every attempt of his to find a distraction always failed, for no matter how many girls he flirted with in the moment, when he was all alone his brain was full of thoughts of you.
he boards the ship silently, assuming you were taking a nap or something in your room. the last thing he wanted was to interrupt your beauty sleep (not that he thought you needed any). he’s whistling to himself as he walks across the deck and uses his shoulder to open the door to the kitchen, not expecting to see you wiping down the table, in your own world assumedly.
“y/n?”
“sanji!” your face seems to be a mixture of surprise and flustered, and the hand that was wiping down the table drops the cloth to wave at him warmly. “what are you doing back here so early?”
“you seemed a little down my darling, i figured i’d make something special to lighten your spirits” his charming smile, so kind and warm. it makes the butterflies in your stomach do flips, and you know there’s a light blush spreading across your cheeks thanks to the sweet pet name. 
he’s so hard not to love.
“what did you have in mind chef?” there's a teasing tone to your voice, walking towards him to take a peek into the bag he was holding. you had just leaned onto your tiptoes to peek over the top of it when he pulled it out of your view. 
“ahh ahhh! it was supposed to be a surprise love.” a pout graces your lips that makes his own heart skip a beat, and his resolve is quickly broken. he sighs in a way that feels like warm honey flowing through your veins, looking at you with an affectionate smile. “you said you loved chocolate covered strawberries? didn’t you?”
“...you remembered?” your whisper of disbelief is combined with an adorable held tilt. sanji cant help the chuckle that comes out of his mouth. he brushes past you to place down the bag of ingredients, stepping back towards you to tug on your hand. he pulls you closer to him and the counter, placing a hand on your cheek and looking at you in a way that almost fools your heart.
“i have a hard time forgetting anything that involves my favorite girl” his sweet words are combined with a quick kiss to your forehead, and then he's reaching into the bag to pull out fresh red strawberries and the best milk chocolate he could find on the island. 
your hand reaches up to where he kissed, and when he begins to explain to you how one would go about making the best chocolate covered strawberries; you can almost start to believe, that maybe, just maybe
he loved you too.
taglist: @the-maladaptive-daydreamers
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freedomfireflies · 7 months
Text
SnakeBite*
Summary: The third part to 404*
The one where Harry is good for more than a good time.
But he's still good at that, too.
Word Count: 5.2k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
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“Oh, come on…please. Please, don’t do this. Not right now. Not today…please.”
With a deep breath, you stick the key back into the ignition and try again. Waiting anxiously for the sound of the engine roaring to life. A sound you desperately need to hear more than anything.
Instead, all that follows is that familiar clunking of something heavy before there’s a rather shrill buzzing you can’t quite place.
Fuck.
Exasperated and woefully defeated, you take the key back out, groan, and drop your forehead onto the steering wheel. “This is not happening.”
Truth be told, you should have seen this coming. This isn’t the first time your poor car has made this unsettling noise, and perhaps it’s your fault for ignoring it for so long. You hadn’t meant to; you just didn’t realize it was this bad. Or that your car was this old.
Now, you’re trapped in the Juno Incorporated parking lot on a Friday afternoon with no way of getting you or your car home.
“The fuck is wrong with you?”
You don’t even bother to lift your head as Harry’s voice carries in through the window. “Nothing. Go away.”
You hear the sound of his boots scraping across the concrete before they stop, and you feel a large shadow fall over your side of the vehicle. “Can I assume that god awful noise came from this hunk of shit you call a car?”
Leaning back, you huff as you look over. “I’m sorry, do you want something?”
Harry smirks, arms crossing over his chest as he juts his chin toward you. “Pop the hood, let me see.”
“Yeah…no.”
“Come on,” he pushes, a few curls dancing across his forehead from a soft gust of wind. You realize he looks different outside of the lab. Normal, almost. It’s unsettling. “You wanna leave, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but knowing you, you’d probably cut my breaks.”
“If I were gonna take you out, I would have done it by now.”
“Oh. Wow. You’re really instilling me with a lot of confidence, thanks.”
He steps back and motions toward the front of your car. “Fucking relax, Tinkerbell, and just pop the goddamn hood.”
Regretfully, you do as instructed before leaning out the open window to watch him walk toward your engine. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
“I know enough,” he replies, using the back of his hand to push on his glasses before bending down.
“That…is not helpful.”
“Well, I’m your only shot. Everyone else is gone.”
“I can call a repair guy.”
He shakes his head once. “Won’t get here in time. It’s rush hour on a Friday. You’ll be here for hours if they even show at all. And chances are, they won’t be able to schedule you in till next week. So, unless you’re planning to sleep here, in your car, can you please shut the fuck up, and let me focus?”
You feel your expression morph into a scowl as you unclick your seatbelt and step out. “I’d rather sleep in my car than trust you to fix my engine.”
You notice his eyes roll, but he’s amused. “Well, I can’t fix it. Not here. I think it’s your spark plugs. They tend to wear out faster in older cars. You’ll probably have to get them replaced.”
Scurrying to stand beside him, you glance over your engine and the internal workings of the car with a heavy sigh.
“You’re kidding,” you mumble beneath another strained groan. “And let me guess, it’s gonna be expensive.”
“Probably,” he agrees, glancing over. “But it’s not like you can’t afford it.”
Your eyes narrow. “I know I can afford it, I just don’t like dropping thousands of dollars on something so dumb.”
“Spark plugs aren’t dumb,” he retorts while reaching for your hood to slam it shut. “You need them to fucking drive.”
“Yeah, but having to pay for a rental car, manual labor, and a tow truck is dumb,” you point out. “And this is the last thing I need right now.”
His eyebrow lifts but he doesn’t ask for elaboration. Instead, he begins to stride across the lot toward a dark, black Harley, leaving you and your crisis behind.
In turn, you reach for your cellphone to look up local tow trucks and mechanics that might be able to help you out.
To your dismay, most shops are already closed for the weekend, except for one. And after a very lengthy and frustrated discussion, you learn that they won’t be able to come by until much later tonight. Which means that all your hopes of having a nice, relaxing evening are for naught. 
Once again defeated, you slump back against the side of your car and drop your head. “Well…great.”
Harry’s smirk returns as he glances over and straddles his bike. “What?”
“I’m stuck here until midnight,” you mumble, running a palm down the side of your cheek. “You were right, everyone is booked.”
“Shit,” is about all he offers while pulling his helmet over his head. “That sucks.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Welcome.” He revs the engine, and just like that, the bike roars to life. The loud and somewhat startling sound echoing across the parking lot as you flinch.. “So, what’s the plan, Princess? You gonna call an Uber and come back later?”
“I can’t,” you shout over the noise. “I have to be here in case they come early, or they’ll leave.”
Through the open visor, you see him frown. “Ah.”
“Yeah.”
He studies you for a moment more, and you feel your skin grow warm under such a scrutinous gaze. Like he’s looking for something written between the lines of your face. “Well…make sure you lock your doors.”
“No shit.”
He smiles again before flipping the visor shut and steadying the bike with his leg. You stand back, ready to watch him speed out of the lot and onto the street, but to your surprise…he simply sits there.
In fact, a good sixty seconds pass before he suddenly slips the helmet off his head, sighs, and thrusts it toward you. “Get on.”
You blink. “What?”
“Get on the fucking bike, Tink,” he repeats. “I know a bar we can hang out in till they get here.”
“I…I just told you, I can’t leave—”
“You can see the parking lot from inside,” he interrupts. “If they show, we can just run back over.”
You step closer, drawn to his proposition, although still wildly confused. “Uh…okay. Why, though? I’m fine to just wait here.”
He looks at you, the grassy green behind his glasses somehow softer in this natural lighting. “S’not safe,” he says simply, shrugging one shoulder up. “Be better to wait somewhere public, and I don’t really want your death on my conscience.”
 And you aren’t exactly sure what to say. Because you think this may be the nicest thing he’s ever done for you – even if it’s still a little odd – and you don’t want to spook him by doing the wrong thing.
But as you debate a response, he shakes the helmet at you again, rather aggressively. “Tink, get on the goddamn bike, please. I’m wasting gas here.”
With a huff, you snatch it from his hand and join him on the Harley. The helmet slips on rather easily, and once you’re sure it’s snug and secure, your eyes trail down his back, unsure of how to proceed. 
You don’t exactly want to…hold him. Or touch him or straddle him. At least, not outside of the way you do in secret. In broad daylight. Where people could see.
In fact, you already feel as though you’re grinding against his ass from how small this goddamn seat is. Almost too close for comfort as you catch a subtle trace of his cologne and feel the warmth from his body.
But motorcycles don’t exactly come with seatbelts, and if he were to take a sharp corner, you might end up pancaked on the cement.
“Tinkerbell,” you suddenly hear him call over his shoulder, voice raised to carry over the growl of the engine. “Just fucking grab me, it’s fine.”
You glare at his curls, despite knowing he can’t see you. “I’m good.”
He snorts again before he’s suddenly reaching back, grabbing onto your wrists, and hoisting your arms around his middle.
You’re tugged forward, your chest pressing to his spine rather forcefully as he glances back.
“Pussy,” he murmurs, releasing the clutch until the bike jolts forward and takes off through the parking lot.
With a rather shrill squeal, you tighten your hold on his broad frame, and bury yourself between his shoulder blades. The sensation is exhilarating and frightening all in the same moment. The rush of wind, adrenaline, and the way he leans around the corner before taking off down the street.
You think you feel his chest vibrate with laughter, perhaps from the way your nails are scraping down his shirt. And despite your increasing terror, you find that you feel oddly…safe with him at the handles.
Not even two minutes later, he’s pulling into another parking spot on the other side of the street, right in front of the aforementioned bar. It’s a bar you recognize, one that a few of your other coworkers often frequent from time to time.
In fact, this is the exact same bar you and Harry first hooked up in all those months ago.
The memory makes you smile.
“What?” Harry asks as swings his leg over the side and stands up. “Why are you grinning like that?”
You quickly wipe the smirk from your face while wrestling the helmet off to hand back. “Like what? I’m just smiling, calm down.”
“I don’t like when you smile. It freaks me out.”
“You’re really rude, you know that?”
“What? I’m just being honest. You have a lot of teeth. It’s weird.”
You glower at him, swatting his chest as you brush by. “Bite me, Harold.”
“With what? Your teeth?”
You feign a snubbed gasp – to which he chuckles – before striding into the bar, leaving him to follow behind.
The large room is loud and crowded with people, the smell of alcohol and bad decisions clinging to the air. You make a beeline for the counter, exhausted and overworked and already annoyed by Harry’s future comments before he can even make them.
Like—
“Really? An appletini?” 
With a deep breath, you look over while the bartender turns around to begin prepping your drink. “Yes, really. I like apples. And it’s delicious. And the color is fun.”
He rests an arm on the edge of the marble bar and leans in. “How incredibly boring of you.”
Once again, your expression falls flat. “Are you gonna be this fucking annoying the whole time? Because I’d rather wait by my car and get murdered.”
“I make no promises.”
“Clearly. And let me guess, you’re gonna order something cool and manly like a scotch on the rocks.”
Harry’s eyebrow quirks up before he smugly turns toward the bartender and calls, “I’ll have a SnakeBite.”
You can actually feel your eyes roll all the way into the back of your head. “God, you’re fucking pretentious.”
“Thank you,” he says with a smile, and you grit your teeth. “Will you relax? I haven’t even had a drink yet and you’re killing my buzz.”
“I’m not killing anything, I just can’t stand you.”
“No? Ouch. I thought we were friends.”
The sarcasm is evident, but you huff, nevertheless. “For the love of god, shut up.”
“What?” He nods his chin at you. “S’just a drink, don’t be so sensitive.”
“I’m sensitive because you’re annoying.”
“No, you’re sensitive because you’re wound up,” he retorts, eyeing you closely. It makes your skin crawl. “When’s the last time you got off, Tink?”
The inquiry makes you step back, almost as though trying to avoid his judgment. “None of your business.”
“So…couple weeks ago? In the closet, with me?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “That’s a long fucking time, Princess. No wonder you’re so uptight.”
Your mouth drops open, ready to scoff your resentment and perhaps a quippy remark before he suddenly steps forward and lowers his voice.
“Bet it’s achy, huh?” he coos, and the slight air condescension and sympathy makes your head spin. “Bet you hump your little pillow every night trying to get it done, yeah? But it never works, does it?”
Stunned and left without much remark, your lashes flutter.
He moves closer. “See, if we were friends…I’d offer to take you into the bathroom and help you out. But since you think you can do better…go ahead.”
He leans back while you gape at him. “I’m sorry…go ahead and do what?”
“Find someone,” he answers, glancing around the packed bar. “Take ‘em into the bathroom and let them bend you over the sink.”
“You can’t be serious—”
“Why not?” His eyebrow raises. “That’s the whole reason people come to bars. To get drunk and fuck.”
“Well…that’s not why I’m here.”
“It could be.”
“Harry…no—”
“Why? Seriously, why not? You need it.”
“I don’t…you’re so fucking rude, I don’t need to get off—”
“Coming is good for your health. And for your unfavorable attitude—”
“Oh, you are so fucking—”
“Rude? Annoying? Doesn’t make me any less right.”
You clamp your mouth shut and step closer, letting your gaze travel the expanse of his face. “Come on, Harry,” you murmur softly – salaciously – as his breath seems to catch. “Do you really think…you could watch me with some other guy?”
His expression twists, his mouth already forming around something else snappy and crude.
But it seems to get stuck on his tongue when you suddenly reach out and trail your fingers down his chest. Moving in until there’s only a single breath between you.
“Do you really think…you could watch me touch them?” you whisper, glancing down to your hand as it grazes over his pec. “Or know that they had me dripping down their cock…the way I always drip for you?”
He wants to fight you. Wants to snort and look away.
But he doesn’t. He can’t. He’s mesmerized by the power you so easily stole from him. Undone by the sound of your voice taunting him with an idea he can’t seem to stomach.
“Wanna know I’m whimpering their name the way I always whimper yours?” you continue, smoothing your other palm up the back of his neck. Squeezing just hard enough to make him straighten up. “Wanna see the marks on my throat from where they held me—”
“Easy,” he warns lowly, reaching up to snatch your wrist. But he doesn’t move you. “Not here—”
“Why?” You push up onto your tiptoes and let your lips ghost over his. “Who’s gonna see, hm? Who’s gonna care?”
His lashes flutter, eyes traveling down to your mouth. “Are you this desperate for it, Princess? Wanna fuck me right here in the middle of the bar? Make them watch?”
You smile, head tilting until the tip of your nose dances across his cheek. “Maybe,” you nearly purr. “Bet you like to be watched. You always like watching me.”
And maybe he knows you’re merely playing a game. Teasing him just to throw him off track and test his patience.
But he plays along, eager to see where it might lead. “Can’t help it,” he replies calmly, smirking himself. “Y’just always look so pretty when you’re three fingers deep in your cunt.”
“Yeah?” Your nails scratch at the soft curls near the nape of his neck. “Funny how I can make myself squirt better than you can.”
He exhales a rather sadistic chuckle while his arm reaches to loop around your waist, pulling your chest flush with his. “I wasn’t trying to make you squirt.”
“No?”
His head shakes once. “No. Trust me, Tink. If I wanted to…I would.”
“Then maybe you should.”
His lips part just enough to tease you with a taste. “Maybe I will.”
“Yeah? Right here? In front of everybody?”
Another grin. “I could. Be so fucking easy, too. Bend you over the bar, pull your soaked little panties down…spread you open so they can see how much of a dirty little cumslut you are.”
And perhaps this started as a ruse, but just the thought and the tantalizing way he speaks breeds a new inspiration.
“Cause you are, aren’t you?” he asks quietly, large hand pressing hard against your spine. “My dirty, fucking Princess? Get all wet and weepy from just a couple words?”
You swallow a whimper trying desperately to come free.
“Should I check?” he whispers, now subtly moving you over until your back meets the counter. “Hm? See if you’re as wound up as I think you are?”
You rifle through your list of responses but find that you have none to offer as his fingers delicately begin to trace the edge of your jeans. Provoking you further.
You reckon you should probably stop him. Point out what an idiotic idea this is and remind him that he’s still very much in public, surrounded by people.
But his body blocks you from most of the crowd, and nobody else is close enough to notice. And you suppose that even if they did look over, they wouldn’t exactly be able to see or understand.
His eyes flick to yours, looking for hesitation. But when he finds none, the corner of his mouth twitches up into a pleased smile.
“Dirty Princess,” he teases, sliding his hand into your pants as subtly as he can while you quickly glance around for prying eyes. “That’s right, Tink. Look at them.”
 The feel of his cold fingers against your warm skin is like ecstasy, sending a rush of adrenaline straight down to your toes.
You gasp quietly to mask a whine, vision going hazy as you watch him study you. 
“Oh, sweetie,” he tsks, smoothing his touch through your folds. Spreading and stroking as you reel. “Poor fucking thing. Did’ya get yourself all wet for me?”
“No,” you manage to reply, heart hammering against your rib cage when he smirks. “I was watching TikTok’s of Andrew Garfield earlier. This is for him.”
“Ah,” he hums, but he’s wildly amused, hand still cupping you gently before he swiftly pulls out and leaves you to wilt. “Well, in that case…”
He steps away, fingers tucked between his lips as he pretends to turn around.
However, before he can get far, you manage to capture a fistful of his shirt and yank him back to you. 
And you kiss him. Without reluctance or fear. You kiss him, and you sigh against his mouth, and swallow his surprised but greedy moan.
His hands are on your hips, squeezing and pulling, desperate to tug you further into his frame. 
You go willingly, becoming pliable in his hands. A few people cheer from beside you, raising their glasses and whistling like drunken animals. 
But it makes you both smile, suddenly unencumbered by the ideas of what people might think or who might see.
And it’s strange to feel so at peace in his arms. Unnatural almost to find relief in his lips or safety in his presence. Because this is still the same Harry that would let you drown before he jumped in after you. That would rather tell you off than tell you he likes you – even as an acquaintance. 
You’re not enemies, per se. You imagine you’re both too old for such childish rivalries. But he’s cruel and rude and blunt. His ego rivals the size of the moon, and his lack of care and inhibitions is proof that he could never be who you’d need him to be.
But that’s okay, you realize. You find serenity in the sadistic, strange behavior. Because it means you don’t have to commit to giving him anything more than what he deserves.
His tongue leaves a quick lick to yours before he pulls back and studies you from behind the dark frames of his glasses. “I need to fuck you.”
And you almost laugh at the frank way he speaks. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” His palm slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing it one, twice, three times. “Meet me in the bathroom.”
“Ew, no. I’m not fucking you in a crusty ass bathroom in a sketchy bar,” you retaliate with a scrunch of your nose. “Pick somewhere else.”
“There isn’t anywhere else,” he huffs. “Unless you really do want me to fuck right here in front of everybody.”
“That’s not funny.”
“M’not trying to be funny. I’m trying to fuck you.”
“Well…try harder.”
His eyes narrow. “Fine, you wanna fuck me on my bike?”
You blink. “Okay, that’s really not funny.”
“What?” He’s grinning again, and you hate the way his dimples pop out. Hate how charming they make him look. “Come on, I ride the bike, you ride me.”
You snort as you turn around to take a sip of your drink. “I’d rather get herpes.”
“Wow. Classy. Real fucking classy—”
“Admit it, you’ve had it before—”
“Oh, fuck you—”
“Well, you can’t. Remember?”
He scoffs. “Then where the fuck do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. Literally anywhere else?”
“Well, I’m not taking you back to mine.”
“No? You don’t want me to see the bridge you live under?”
“Troll jokes. Funny.”
“Thank you, I thought so. It’s very fitting.”
His expression falls flat before he sighs and steps closer again. “Meet me in the fucking bathroom,” he repeats quietly, “and let me fuck you. Let me make it better.”
You want to remind him – again – that a dirty bathroom in a crowded bar isn’t exactly the best place. You’d never get a moment of privacy, and the position would most likely be wildly uncomfortable.
But suddenly, none of your reasons seem to matter. Because it hurts to be away from him. Actually aches between your thighs, forcing you to swallow thickly.
So, instead of responding with an actual answer, you simply take his hand, and drag him through the crowd.
You catch his smug smile – and resist the urge to slap the glasses off his face – before yanking him into the hall and toward the bathroom.
You both stumble through the door, already back on each other’s lips. Kissing, and groping, and groaning as you work to get the lock flipped.
You pause for only a moment to make sure the single stall restroom is in fact empty while Harry uses this as encouragement to begin nipping down the side of your neck. 
Your nails scratch down his scalp and he moans against the heat of your skin, exhaling his relief and lust all in the same breath.
His touch is firm – pointed and almost painful – as he pushes you back toward the wall. You gasp when you meet the cold, hard cement, lashes fluttering from the force and the sound of his belt coming undone.
He nods his chin at you, entertained by your fascination. “Come on, Princess. You’ve seen my cock before.”
“Just shut up and fuck me,” you murmur, swallowing thickly when he pulls himself out. “Before I change my mind and find somebody else."
He scoffs with a smile. “I’d like to see you try.”
He gives himself a few pumps, growing harder in his palm before he lets go and moves his attention to your jeans. He’s got them down your legs and pooled around your ankles in under thirty seconds flat, your panties soon following suit.
But he teases you for just a moment. Because of course he does, the sadistic fucker. Needing to hear you beg for him before he actually gives you what you both want.
“Harry,” you huff, glancing down as he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “We don’t have time, and the floor is dirty. Just do it.”
“Just do it? How romantic,” he snorts before obliging and straightening back up. “Thought girls liked foreplay.”
“We do, but not in gross, dirty bathrooms.”
“Fine. Next time.”
And for some reason, the casual way he refers to the future makes your head spin. You always assume the two of you will continue from time to time. But hearing him promise to take care of you again…
It’s almost…nice? 
Pushing the thought aside, you begin to turn around, hands pressing into the wall to brace yourself in preparation for what comes next.
But just as you’re getting comfortable, he suddenly grabs onto your hips, and spins you forward once again.
“No,” he murmurs softly, pretty green eyes trailing down your face. “No, I wanna see you this time.”
“Oh,” you whisper, skin growing hot as he steps between your legs. “Okay…?”
He grins lightly before reaching up to trail his thumb along your bottom lip. “I like watching you get all sappy when I fuck you. The way you grin when it feels good.”
Suddenly, your pulse starts to stagger. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I like your smile.”
You suck in quiet breath. “I thought it creeped you out. That I had too many teeth.”
He chuckles to himself before taking hold of his cock and bringing it closer, trailing it between your legs. “You do. But that’s what makes you so beautiful.”
You think he must be out of his mind. Lost on the idea of sex and pleasure and SnakeBite’s. Tipsy and not all there. Because the Harry you know would never say something like that to you.
But you suppose you don’t really know Harry at all.
With that final thought, he hoists your leg over his hip, and begins to push in. It’s slow at first. You’re tense from the surroundings, from the loud sounds of the bar just on the other side of the wall, and from his admission.
But he loves it, cursing through gritted teeth before surging forward to kiss you. “Tink, you gotta fucking relax. Y’know I can’t do it if you don’t let me in.”
“Try…trying,” you pant, head falling back against the wall with a thud. “Sorry. Just go.”
He frowns, eyes rolling as his glasses begin to slip down the bridge of his nose. “M’not gonna go if you’re not stretched, Princess. I’m not trying to hurt you—”
“I don’t care,” you argue with a soft whine. “Really, I don’t care. Just go. Make it hurt.”
He releases your leg to slip his fingers just below your jaw, forcing your eyes on him. “Stop. M’not gonna do that, just relax.”
“I’m trying—”
“Try harder,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your mouth. “Come on, sweetie. Know you can do it. Know you always take me so well, don’t you?”
You nod fervently. “Yes…yeah, yes—”
“Then take me,” he whispers, his free fingers finding your clit. He rubs, and presses, and pinches until he feels you begin to unwind. “There you go…there she is, that’s my girl. S’better, isn’t it? Yeah? Gonna let me in now?”
You can’t exactly speak, already lost in the pleasure and the fullness his thick cock provides as it pushes past your walls and settles nearly in your belly.
The sound you make is depraved and eager, and it makes him smile. “That good, huh? So fucking cute how cockdrunk you get.”
“Shut…up,” you huff before reaching for his hair. “Faster.”
“Faster,” he repeats to himself, hips pulling back just to snap forward. “Always want it fast, don’t you? Never want me to take my time.”
“Cause I don’t want your dick in me longer than it needs to be,” you retort, but you both know that’s not true. “Fucking hurry—”
With a sharp and sudden thrust, he changes the pace. Obeying your command for fast and hard as your bodies shake with pleasure and force. 
And you imagine it should feel quite strange to be so enamored by one man – one cock. But here you are, panting, and gasping, and whimpering as he fucks you against this bathroom wall. Ignoring the pounding of the fists against the door from people wanting to be let in.
He kisses you. Kisses all of you. Your lips, your cheek, your chin, your nose, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Tugs on your skin with his teeth before flattening his tongue against the tortured flesh. 
His hand dances underneath your shirt. Palm smoothing up your stomach and over the cup of your bra. Slipping just far enough inside to knead you in his grasp. Make you whimper and push closer.
And he’s so warm. All of him is warm and soft and strong. He smells like mahogany and sex, and he feels like ecstasy.
You love his hands. The veins in his arms, the bulge of his muscles. The tan of his skin and the way he holds you. 
He might be infuriating, but my god is he fun to look at. 
“Fucking shit,” he snaps, readjusting his angle to make sure he’s fucking into you just right. “So fucking good, Tink. You’re shaking, sweetie. You close already?”
You can’t respond with words, instead clenching around him in an effort to prove his point.
He smirks, quickly reaching up to push his glasses back into place. “Good. Want you to come all over my cock, baby. Want you to soak me. Can y’do that for me, Princess? Can you soak my cock?”
You think you know what he means, but truth be told, you aren’t sure if you can. You’ve only done it twice before – by your own hand, not his – and you wonder if you’d even be able to like this.
But the question is answered for you when he moves just enough to find that sweet, spongy spot that unravels you faster than lightning. 
He hits it over and over and over – perhaps without even realizing – and when you suddenly begin to cry out his name…he understands.
He watches as it happens, aiding in your pleasure by spitting on his fingers and bringing them down to your clit. 
The ministrations are ruthless and beautiful, and it almost distracts you from the gushing between your legs, and the way you soak his thighs.
“Shit,” you think you hear him groan, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. “So fucking good, Tink. Yeah, just like that. That’s good, baby, keep going. Give me all of it. Fucking all of it, sweetie, yeah.”
And just before you can go sliding down the wall out of pure exhaustion…he follows. Pressing his chest into yours to keep you upright as he spills inside your pussy, creating a bigger mess than before. 
Everything is wet and sticky and warm. He’s breathing into your neck, holding onto your body so tight, you imagine you’ll see memories of him tomorrow. 
And you stay, just for a moment. Learning how to take in air again and waiting for the feeling to return to your muscles.
“You okay?” he finally asks, exhaling the question into the sweaty skin of your throat. “Didn’t break you, did I?”
Your smile is lazy as you shake your head. “It would take a lot more than you to break me.”
And he laughs. In the kind of way that makes you clench around him again.
Which only makes him laugh harder.
“I fucking hope so.”
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fleurriee · 11 months
Text
— wanted desires ; neteyam sully
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pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!pregnant reader
synopsis ; too worried about being rough on you, neteyam won’t allow himself to give into his desires, despite you having never looked more ravishing. but, it’s simply been too long for you, and you can hold yourself back no longer.
word count ; 4.4k
themes ; smut, fluff, established relationship (mates)
warnings ; explicit content: pregnant sex, p in v sex, breast play, nipple play, ear kissing, but all kinda sensual??
author’s note ; (in this, ive kinda just assumed that na’vi sleep naked) so this has slightly less dad!neteyam in it & more horny neteyam which im sorry about. i really can’t decide if im happy with it but i want to go along with the plans i have for this series & this was a chapter i’d planned a while back. i had originally planned this to be more smutty but as i started writing this i just couldn't bc even tho it's dad!neteyam who’s just 🥵 he'd be too scared to hurt you, so, we've ended up with this?? i PROMISE the next one is absolutely fucking adorable & will have everything people want when it comes to dad!neteyam!! this is part of my dad!neteyam series, which you can find in my masterlist below!
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Neteyam was everything you could've asked for... and more.
As you slowly but surely started to reach the end of your pregnancy, the last stages just looming over your shoulders, he was always there for you. You were becoming more irrational, and there was no doubt in your mind that you were annoying everyone you came into contact with. But, each and every one of them seemed to understand, and none better than Neteyam.
Your mate was constantly by your side - physically or mentally - tending to your every need and abiding by your every request. Hormones getting the better of you, you also started to take your problems and own annoyances out on him. It was completely unfair and it always made you feel incredibly guilty and horrible in the end, crying your eyes out in your mate's arms as all you could do was apologise profusely.
But, not once did he hold it against you. No - instead of taking every harsh word you uttered to him to heart, instead of truly believing that you meant them, he allowed the blows and the insults to be thrown his way, soaking them in until your temper died down and there was nothing but an exhausted, drained and broken girl in front of him. After that, he'd soothe your apologies, caging you in his arms protectively, stroking both the top of your head and your expanding stomach whilst he assured you he understood that you hadn't meant all those words, that it was okay.
He'd insist that he didn't mind taking such aggravation, not when you were doing all the hard work... not when you were carrying his entire world on your shoulders.
To no surprise of anyone, his family were as perfect as they could be, too, always either giving you a helping hand, or steering clear less they want to say the wrong thing. It was obvious from the very start of the stark differences between the two sides of Neteyam's - and, you guess, your own - family.
When it came to those that were always supportive and understanding, it was always the girls. Neytiri would constantly make sure that you were the most comfortable in any situation you found yourself in, wanting to ensure that the mother was safe and healthy before anything else; Kiri was, without fail, bringing you different concotions made by both herself and Mo'at that helped ease your pain and soothe your anxieties; and Tuk, consistently babbling about how excited she is to finally meet her niece or nephew, planning out how all she's going to do when they arrive is dote on them. Each of them had created their own roles to play in your pregnancy, and each one comfortably took your mind off the worries that were swirling around, believing that simply nothing could go wrong when you had such beautiful people around you all the time.
On the complete other side, there were the boys. Both Jake and Lo'ak were different stories compared to the rest of their families - whilst the two of them were as excited and eager to meet your baby, too, neither one of them wanted to really get too involved, something that didn't exactly bother you, rather just making you giggle at their reactions. They gave you as much space as possible, too scared to get too close in case they either annoyed you or did something wrong. Whilst Jake had done this many times before, gone through several of these similar experiences with his own mate, he didn't want to overstep any boundaries between yourself and his eldest son, considering he had no idea what it was like carrying a baby for so long. And, Lo'ak... Lo'ak was just scared of his older brother.
After all, you were now considered delicate, and they knew if something happened to you, they'd be on the feral side of Neteyam... something neither of them particularly wanted to experience any time soon.
But, there was one thing that you couldn't stand during all of this, and, surprisingly, it wasn't anyone else trying to help.
It was Neteyam, and the fact that he wouldn't touch you.
Way more often than you were used to, you found yourself feeling sexually frustrated, the only thing you needed being for yourself and Neteyam to be intimate in the same way that got you in this situation in the first place. You narrowed your sudden feelings down to the fact that it had been so long - whilst the two of you never really had sex all the time before becoming pregnant, after being denied of your wants for an excruciatingly long period of time now, you were slowly teetering over the edge.
And, it wasn't as though you weren't trying, either. Your attempts of kissing him sensually, gaining beautiful-sounding moans out of him before he forced himself away from you; touching him explicitly, feeling him shudder under your grasp, before he moved himself impossibly further away from you, eyes scrunched tight as he held himself back; laying yourself bare for him when he go home, before he sighed dejectedly and shook his head, doing his damn best to ignore you... all to waste.
Neteyam just couldn't stand the idea of hurting you or the baby.
Sure, you guess you could understand where he was coming from, too, considering neither of you had been in this situation before, having no idea if having sex could harm either one of you, and the both of you were too prideful to ask someone else about it. So, you were stuck in what felt like a never-ending loop, enjoying itself as it tortured you blissfully.
But, you had never been so frustrated in your entire life.
The day had, once again, been a long and tiring one for the two of you, trying to let sleep overtake your entire senses and succumb to the world beyond. You were lay down upon your mat, the two of you on your sides - something that always felt more comfortable against the pains in your stomach, so Neteyam was happy to oblige - as your mate's front curls into your figure, his tail automatically wrapping itself around your bump protectively, like it always did, like a ritual.
That's when you started to feel it.
Your mind was beginning to deny you of any sleep anyway, your arousal once again getting the better of you as it painted your wanted desires within the forefront of you mind's eye until there was nothing else you could think of. But, it seemed as though Neteyam was feeling something, too - a bulge poking against your lower back, throbbing gently every now and again like it was demanding your attention, like it was excited.
For a moment, you wondered if Neteyam had even noticed his own predicament, considering he was the one so desperate to not engage in this way, and now he's aching. It's ironic that the roles have suddenly reversed, and you wonder how next to play this out.
Taking in a shuddering breath when you feel his tail subconsciously stroke against your skin, you weigh up your options - you could either ignore it completely, knowing it'll be a fight to get him to give into you, allowing the sultry thoughts within your mind to be the only release you'd get... or, you could take control for yourself.
In no time at all, you decide upon the latter. It wasn't much of a decision to make, either, too wrapped up in the sensations you knew only he could give you, wanting nothing but him all over you.
You start of with the barest of movements, not wanting to completely pounce on him in surprise, knowing that if you did, he'd get angry. The best way to get him to give in was always going to be to get him weak. Fidgeting about in place, barely moving, you pretend as though you're subconsciously trying to get comfortable - after all, who was he to say that you weren't when carrying a Na'vi around constantly?
A small moan sounds behind you, under his breath like he hadn't meant for it to spill from his lips, but it already has you smirking slightly. Instantly, you know he wants this just as much as you do, and if your plan works how you intend it to, you'll both be falling asleep blissful and satisfied after too long of denying yourselves.
Your next step is start rubbing your ass against his bulge, but ensuring your movements stay slow, so as not to arouse him so suddenly. At the feel of him against you in such a sensual way, a breathy sigh leaves your lips, eyes fluttering closed as you forget how much you truly enjoyed the feel of his cock anywhere on you.
Just as you’re enjoying yourself, your ass continuing to rub painfully slow against his excitement, there's a rough hand placed firmly along the side of your hip. It's not too tight a grip, not wanting to hurt you or possibly bruise you, but it's enough to hold you down in place and stop your movements from carrying on any further. "Stop," Neteyam almost demands, voice gruff as though he's just woken up, which means he'd been dreaming about taking you like he always loved to.
His one word command does practically the complete opposite of its original purpose, however - instead of listening and giving into him, it only seems to fuel your fire, adding on to your already painful arousal. The way he said the word, sounding so authoritative and annoyed and just sexy has you wanting more, more, more. It definitely wasn't in his plans to have you reacting such a way, but you couldn't help yourself anymore, too far gone. This was the closest you'd been to one another in this way for too long.
Your response to him is a whimper, pathetic and pleading, as you force your hips to move once more despite him hand still placed firmly on you. When your ass brushes against his cock again, he hisses, the sensation no doubt sending him into overdrive, whilst his fingers hold a tighter grip, automatically indenting themselves into your skin.
"Please," you whine, breaths uneven and you were barely even touching each other. "Neteyam, please."
There's a brief moment of silence that lingers between the two of you as your words evaporate into the surrounding air, yourself guessing that it's now Neteyam's turn to weigh up the options set out before him. Unfortunately, he knows you like he knows the back of his own hand, meaning it's obvious straight away that you wont give in now that you're this close to getting what you want. Besides, despite having seen you plead for him to just touch you before you fell pregnant in a way that had him excited, he's never heard you like this - desperate, anguished, and downright aching.
It makes him feel more thrilled than he'd like to admit - especially to you, right in this moment.
With a sigh of defeat, Neteyam knows there's not much else he can do other than give you what you want - although, he could change how he does it. He removes his hand from your waist, tail staying still in its place like always, fidgeting about. You're unsure as to what exactly he's doing, not words or explanations exchanged, rather just letting him do what he wants. For a second, you wonder if your plan had backfired, and he was moving further away from you, or possibly even leaving. The thought has your heart aching in displeasure.
But, then all thoughts are wiped from your mind when you begin to feel a gentle prod against your soaked entrance, subconsciously lifting one of your legs slightly higher in the air at the sensation, before Neteyam is sheathing himself fully inside you. His hand closest to you wraps around your elevated leg to relieve you of the annoyance of lifting it up yourself. When all you can really feel is Neteyam, no longer empty but warm and full, a guttural moan escapes your lips before you can trap it, your hand coming up to slap over your mouth, eyes closed tightly as you take him whole.
You hadn't truly realised how long it had been since you last felt him this way until now. Curse him and his damn protective instincts.
In just seconds, you want nothing more than to chase more of that feeling, more of that euphoric sensation, rubbing yourself impossibly closer to him as the tip of his cock hits such a sweet spot, you're sure you're with the Great Mother in some type of beautiful heaven right now.
Before you can go any further, though, Neteyam's palm finds your hip again, stopping you in place and this time, you don't bother trying to hold yourself back. The whimpers and whines that leave your throat at such a denial are mewling and pitiful, writhing about to relieve yourself of his hold, but he's relentless. Somehow, his entire body is closer to you than it was last time, faces inches away from one another as he brings his lips to your ear. At first, all you can decipher are breathless pants as his chest heaves up and down from trying to hold himself back. "No," he grunts, puffing as he attempts to gain control once more, "we're not doing that. We're going to stay like this - that's the best I'll give you."
This time, it's a groan that falls from your lips, one that sounds almost painful but you're too annoyed to care, cursing out everything for Neteyam being such a gentleman. All you want is for him to fuck you - was that so much to ask? You're not even sure if the situation you've put yourselves in is any better than having nothing, either, because now you can feel all of him entirely, can feel how excited he is to finally be inside you as his cock throbs in pleasure at being snuggled between your walls. Now, it just feels like a taunt of what you could have.
He chuckles softly against your ear at your reaction, still having not moved - and he probably wouldn't now, not unless he wanted to really feel you. The teasing smile is wiped off his features after a second, however, and replaced by one of sympathy, words becoming softer than they were before. "I'm sorry, muntxate (wife), I really don't want to hurt you or our 'evenge (girl)."
There's just a brief split second where his loving words filter through you and knock your senses apart - of course, he wouldn't want to hurt his girls, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ever did. The idea of anyone harming either of you drove him insane, let alone the cause of your pain being him. But, your fleeting emotions cascade into ones of just pure desire, filtering in one ear and out the other until your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud, panting desperately for more.
You give yourself a moment to just breathe, to not hyperventilate at the exultant feeling of him fully inside you. Neteyam assures that his grip stays firm against your hip, not wishing to relent against his own commands so easily, but he does rub his thumb in a soothing circle, painting your skin with a reminder of how much he loves both you and your child.
You're quick to move your hips again, eyes staying closed as you imagine everything he could be doing to you right now, rubbing yourself against him entirely. Immediately, your mate tightens his fingers in his grasp, a clear warning sign for you to stop in your teasing, to just bask in the embrace of one another and say that's enough.
Yet, it isn't enough. It's nowhere near being enough for you. There's a feeling of being slightly impressed at the restraint he's showing to you, and irritated all the same, until another idea comes to your mind.
Smiling a little smugly to yourself, already knowing what you're about to do next is something he definitely cannot resist based on the previous times you've done it, you clench your fluttering walls around his length, taking him whole and tightly. Your own actions cause a breath of blissful relief to pass through your slightly parted lips, loving the way you can feel his cock throb even more.
Another hiss sounds against your ear, his grip tightening, but this time, so does his tail as it continues to stay wrapped firmly around your bulging figure, the end vibrating in a fever of both agitation and anticipation. Even his body desires it, but he wont allow his mind to. He's starting to pant a little more frequently, too, now, like he's weakening at the seams, and that's when you know you have him exactly where you want him.
You continue to clench around him, bringing your hips up and down his length at a tantalisingly slow pace to ensure he feels every inch of you, hitting every spot of your walls. There's a feeling of triumph coursing through you when he no longer attempts to stop you in your teasing movements, knowing he's finally allowed himself to give into you entirely. Instead, the hand that was once gripping your hip snakes its way around your front, fondling against your breasts as he squeezes them sensually. When he moves to the other one, wanting to give it the same attention, he pinches your nipple, loving how sensitive they are due to your pregnant state, eliciting a deep moan from the back of your throat, no longer caring if anyone else can hear you.
"You're a little minx, you know that?" he taunts, words a harsh whisper against your ear but you don't care - not when the once slow movements between the two of you suddenly increase in their pace as Neteyam takes over. The alternating grip, too, against your breasts tightens, constantly squeezing them as he soaks in how swollen they feel. "Always getting what you want."
The tip of his cock repeatedly probes against that sweet, spongy part within you so beautifully as his thrusts continue to increase in their speed. Your mate almost feels feral with his actions, perhaps finally realising that he shouldn't have denied the two of you the pleasure of one another, not when you were so needy. Not wanting to stop clenching around him as he moves in and out of you in a relentless pace, you can feel your release quickly approaching already, no doubt having felt forsaken for so long - you're sensitive enough as it is being pregnant.
"Neteyam-" you moan beautifully, breathily, like a songcord to your mate's ears, sure he's never head you sound so ethereal before. You have to cut yourself off as you moan in pleasure when you start to feel his balls slapping sensually against your skin, the warm sensation within wrapping around you like a blanket, one you never want to get rid of.
He brings his head closer than it already was, burying his face within the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. Sometimes he wishes he could drown in your scent, more so than ever now that you're pregnant - somehow, you managed to emit an even more delicious scent than before. Sucking against your particular sweet spot he knows you adore having his attention on, he ensures to leave behind at least a small mark, wishing for the entire clan to know that you were his, even though you're carrying his firstborn, wanting to be sure.
Lips moving feverishly against your warm skin as he continues to fuck you at a pace that was relentless, your pleasing moans scratching against the back of your throat, he eventually finds himself at your ears, placing soft kisses against them. The sensation has them fluttering in satisfaction, but then he trails down to suck harshly against your jaw, and your breath stutters, whining. "Mmm," he hums against your skin, now resorting to placing gentle kisses when he was once rough. "What is it, sevin (pretty)?"
In all this time, whilst his mouth was focused elsewhere, not once had his thrusts faltered, loving the way you’re so drunk on him entirely.
"I'm - I'm so close, 'teyam," you mewl, eyes slightly rolling to back of your head as he grunts at yet another clench from you around his cock, before you close them shut when they start to tear up.
"I know," he agrees, words just a breathy whisper, already being able to understand how close you truly are from the way you feel around him. It feels like his mind is on fire as your walls flutter from being so close to release, clenching and unclenching around him, having lost its rhythm. His pants are becoming more erratic now, bearing down upon you, but it makes you feel alive. "I'm close, too."
Quickly, knowing that the two of you wont be able to last much longer, he brings his queue forward, the tendrils reaching out as he then connects it with your own awaiting one. Movements now becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, but continuing to hit right at your cervix, your eyes widen as you start to feel everything he currently is - all the love, the desire, the frustration - bathing in one another like two pieces of a puzzle only made for you two.
Burying his head back in the crook of your neck, hand moving down to caress your swollen baby bump - one that's just moons away from its expected day - he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, wanting to tattoo them into you so you'll never forget them. Words like I love you, you're so beautiful, I can't wait to make more, having you crooning somehow more than ever, feeling him peppering kisses to you now.
It's not long after that when the two of you are finally releasing together, explicit moans and grunts escaping your lips as your arousal's become spent. "Neteyam, Neteyam, Neteyam-" you repeat his name like a prayer, having never sounded more amazing to your mate.
You can feel the mixture of your cum with his against Neteyam's cock, awaiting the feeling of becoming empty and cold when he removes himself from you and lets it trickle between your thighs. But, nothing of the sort happens. Rather, your mate stays put, keeping his cock in your warmth, snug, and therefore, keeping all his cum pushed further in you - something he's always loved to do.
Eyes closed in bliss, mouth parted as you try to catch your breath, Neteyam gives your stomach a few tender taps, garnering your attention. Before you can fully move your head on your own, Neteyam's hand moves to cup the side of your face, bringing your noses together as you breathe one another in. He presses a forgiving kiss against your lips, letting them linger against one another, not wanting to pull away. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, the worry and concern evident in both his tone, but also the way you notice his ears droop and eyes glaze over just at the thought.
Looking up at him, you give him the most loving smile you could muster, shaking your head adamantly. "No, ma'teyam," your words are gentle, soothing, "we're both okay, I promise." You make sure to kiss him again with the same softness he gave you, wanting to ensure he completely understood that you meant every word, that you were okay.
This time, when you pull away, he nuzzles your noses together in a domestic way he's started to do since a few moons ago - the same way he likes to do it with your stomach, like he's doing it with your daughter. Pressing his forehead against your own, his eyes never once leave yours, full of adoration and devotion. "I'm sorry I was neglecting you..."
Instantly, your heart sinks at his words, your hand moving up to caress his cheek soothingly like he does yours. You can hear the despair and brokenness behind his voice, and it only pains you further - Neteyam couldn't have been a better mate throughout this entire journey together, but he didn't understand that. He always thought he had to be perfect, that he had to do everything right straight away, but this was a journey you were experiencing for the first time together.
Neteyam couldn't neglect you if he tried. He's too doting, too domesticated, too tender to even think about doing such a thing.
"You do not need to apologise, my muntxatan (husband). I understand why you were worried - but you never neglected me, not once. You were just scared, and so am I..." you pause, your once sympathetic and caring expression turning teasing and menacing, "...but, now that we know that it doesn't do either of us any harm, maybe we could do it more often..."
He chuckles at your words, watching as you bite your lips in mock thought, attempting to hide the sultry smile playing at your lips. It's like your words instantly managed to clear his worry, feeling it dissipate at your loving reassurance, until his eyes were bright and his smile wide, looking down at you like you held the entire universe within you.
In a way, he supposed you did.
"I guess we could..." he relents, his own tone turning into one of teasing, too, smirking as he brings your faces closer into a sensual kiss. This one is all tongues and teeth clashing together, feverish in anticipation to experience more together now that the worries once clouding over the two of you had begun to part.
As his hands roam over your body, from your jaw, to your neck, to your breasts, and finally to your stomach, caressing every inch of your skin like you were a painting, he moves to hover over you, mindful not to put his weight on top of you. A giggle falls from your lips at his sudden change in demeanour, but that's soon swallowed by another deep kiss that has your breath dispersing almost immediately.
It was safe to say, with the amount of times the two of you came together as one just during that particular night, if you weren't pregnant beforehand, you definitely would've been after that.
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@monahiiii @bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr @lanasblood @camilo-uwu @queen190 @adrianarose7 @ttkttt @ayoungforeveruniverse-blog
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dilatorywriting · 1 year
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Valentine's Day Special: Let Them Fight
GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Who knew that in a world of magic, and mayhem, and outright villainy, that it'd be something as stupid as Valentine's Day that would push these idiots over the edge. Or, Malleus, Azul, and Vil go to war over some chocolates
A/N: This MC/Plot takes place in the Heroes vs Villains universe -- specifically Post-Staff's route, rather than any of our other lovely idiot husbands.
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There was always some sort of strange overlap of customs from your world to this one. Halloween seemed to have survived more or less intact (even if it was a bit more, uh, extreme than the subtle evening of giving out treats and dressing as ghosts that you remembered). Winter Holidays were still very much a Thing, even if all other connotations had been stripped from them. Moreover, it was like someone had taken your familiar Earthen calendar and just sort of… mirrored it. Distorted it a bit. Just a lil’ bit more chaos than would have been socially acceptable back home.
So when you made a sly little joke about stocking up on discount chocolates after the Valentine’s Day rush and no one laughed—not even a little chortle, or an irritable eyeroll—you initially thought it was maybe to do with the irrationality of Sam’s Shop ever having a sale to begin with. You had not assumed that, you know, there was no Valentine’s Day at all.
“It’s an important holiday, then? Where you’re from?” Azul mused, busy scribbling endless, chicken scratch, notes in the margins of some form that was probably very important.
“I mean, not really,” you frowned, tossing your Mostro-Branded apron onto its hook. “Maybe. Yes? I don’t really know, actually.”
He hummed and moved to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Well, whatever it is, I’m always looking for new events to host at the Lounge. What exactly is it?”
“It’s a sort of special day for couples. Romance. Lovey-dovey nonsense,” you shrugged, and watched Azul’s finger slip off the slick metal frame of his glasses and nearly take his eye out. You waved off his obvious disgust with a dramatic sigh (I mean, why else would he be so stiff and red?). “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s ridiculous.”
“I—I never said that!” he spluttered, and then paused to cough into his fist and clear his throat. “It just—I just wasn’t expecting something like that to…”
“Exist?”
He grinned, wry. His cheeks were still a bit too pink. “Precisely.”
“You would have loved my world,” you said. “Very capitalistic. Lots of cash-grab holidays like that.”
Azul laughed.
“I’m sure I would be fond of any place you came from.” He paused, and his expression puckered up a bit miserably—like he really hadn’t intended to express such a sentiment aloud. But he managed to smooth the sharp line of his frown back into that usual, smarmy, smirk of his easily enough. “But either way! Tell me more!” he grinned, reaching forward to grab a stack of blank paper and a fresh pen. “I’d love to hear all about it.”
.
.
The next day you were supposed to help the Drama Club start building some stage scenery for their newest play. It was proper grunt work, which was perhaps the only sort of work you were actually qualified for. And Vil always made sure that there were plenty of disgustingly healthy but still quite tasty snacks available for the help to munch on. The food spread alone would have been worth the trip, but on top of that, Vil had made you promise. Practically a blood oath, binding you and your meager free time to the shitty supply closet in the corner of the Auditorium. And as sour as he could be sometimes, you really could never say no to him when he always looked so heart meltingly fond whenever you did agree to while away the hours at his side. That lovely face and even lovelier smile of his were fucking lethal. A war crime, surely, to use it against someone as plain and susceptible to bribery as you were.
But today you were now an idiot on a mission—an idiot determined to spread the joy of a trashy holiday that really probably shouldn’t exist in the first place, let alone in a world where people worshipped storybook villains as veritable deities. And you’d already bought all the molds, and the trays, and you really didn’t have a lot of spare pocket money to begin with, so letting this investment go to waste would not only be a shame, but a terrible business investment.
“What do you mean you’re not coming,” Vil sneered, glaring down his perfectly straight nose at you.
“I really am sorry,” you said, mostly genuine. “But I have something I need to do this afternoon.”
“You’ve made other plans?” he frowned, something a little too unsettled to fit with his usual regality twisting across his expression.
“I have to get ready for Valentine’s Day,” you explained, and his brow tugged down further. Though that earlier twinge of panic seemed to have vanished at least. You pointedly shook your grocery bag full of goodies. “I’m going to make chocolates for everyone.”
“Chocolates?” Vil echoed, confused.
You nodded. “It’s a tradition back home. You give stuff like candy and flowers to the people you care about. Normally it’s a holiday for couples, or whatever. But. Well…”
The ‘I Am Fully Aware That I’m Single as a Pringle, Please Just Let Me Have This One Thing’ was left unsaid, but it hung in the air around your head like a very persistent storm cloud nonetheless. Vil, magnanimously, seemed perfectly happy to ignore the Woe Is Me implications spewing from your mouth. Instead, he leaned forward until he was dipping precariously close into your personal space. His amethyst eyes had lit with blatant interest at your ramblings, and he hummed low in his throat.
“Is that so?” he mused, gaze lidded and warm. “That sounds… intriguing.”
You nodded past the heady scent of his cologne fogging your head. What was it with attractive people, huh? It was so unfair. You don’t get to look and smell good. Pick a lane. Save some dignity for the rest of us.
“So, I promise I’ll help another day. I just have a feeling making chocolates is going to wind up being a lot harder than I think it will.”
Because that’s how it always went in your stupid slice-of-life shows. The poor, harried, protagonist thinking they’re doing a good deed—painstakingly constructing their own, special, homemade goodies for all their important people. Making them with love. And then having it all blow up in their face like a goddamn, cocoa flavored, nuke. Nope. Not you, motherfucker. Your chocolates were going to be divine. You were going to take every, tropey, precaution in the book. And that of course included allotting yourself ample time to make mistakes your masterpiece.
“Of course,” Vil grinned. “How could I possibly begrudge you for wanting to spend your time on something so heartfelt?”
“Thank you,” you blurted, relived. Because at least he got it. Azul had been so ridiculously insistent that you should prepare all your Valentine’s Day wishes as a team. Which was not the point. He’d spent hours last night trying to wheedle his way into your plans—with endless platitudes about ‘business partners always being there for each other,’ and ‘how would he know if he was celebrating to your standards if he wasn’t given a model to work off of first?’ Utter bullshit. He’d probably just wanted free labor.
“Tomorrow, then?” Vil beamed and you nodded.
“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.
“Well, then,” he hummed. “I better get to work as well. I suppose the scenery can wait.”
You nodded in farewell and began the trek back to Ramshackle and its marginally functional kitchens. You hadn’t realized Vil was taking on any new projects, but if it was enough to have him putting off the Club’s activities as well then it must have been pretty important. Maybe he’d get you tickets to it whenever he finished—whatever it was. If there were tickets? How did any of the things he did actually work? Hell if you knew.
.
.
Making chocolates was, in fact, a laughably easy endeavor. And you found yourself cursing every goddamn Shoujo Bullshit Manga under the sun for leading you to think otherwise. The hardest part of the entire thing was fighting off Grim and his wandering paws.
You made up some basic truffles which were, again, stupidly simple. Just some messily chopped chocolate, cream, and a little splash of vanilla to make it Special. Once those were shaped into messy blobs, you dipped them into some more melted chocolate and bam. That was it. That was literally it. You felt like a genius—sitting there mushing up balls of cocoa like high-end playdough.
By 6PM, you had all your little darlings tucked into the refrigerator to harden, all the gauzy, red, boxes lined up on your counter and ready to be filled, and Grim had been placated with an offering of all your dirty mixing bowls. The tiny, demonic, beast was passed out at the dingy kitchen table—one of said bowls wedged onto his head like an astronaut’s helmet. Hopefully it was just a food coma and not, like, an actual coma-coma. Real cats couldn’t eat chocolate, but Grim never really seemed real at all. So hopefully he’d be fine.
You wiped down your cooking space once, twice. Paced up and down the narrow hallway until you were wearing away the already threadbare rugs, and spent way too long just standing in front of the fridge—staring in on your chocolates like a psychotic kidnapper scoping out their next victims.
Eventually you realized that you maybe needed to do something with your evening that wasn’t just creeping on your confections, and set out into the frosty, night, air for a stroll.
Which is, of course, where you ran into your familiar, horned, friend—staring up into the starry sky in a wistful manner that darkened his pale complexion into something nearly ominous. He always looked a bit like that, like something unearthly and detached from the rest of the world.
“Tsunotarou!” you chirped happily, and that adrift-at-sea expression of his melted right off his face.
“Child of Man,” he greeted, inclining his head politely. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.” His brow furrowed, almost confused. “Is it not too cold for you?”
Your breath was, in fact, fogging in front of your face. And you couldn’t really feel your toes anymore. But the electric anticipation of tomorrow was keeping you warm enough. Even if only in spirit.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you waved him off. And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward on your tippytoes and blurted out, “Happy Almost Valentine’s Day!”
“Valentine’s Day?” Malleus repeated back at you, looking like you’d just handed him an unsolvable differential equation.
“It’s a holiday from back home,” you explained for the umpteenth time that day. “And normally I’m not too fussed about it, but this year I’m really excited to give everyone their chocolates!” You grinned. “And you too, of course. I have to make sure I give them to all my important people.”
The furrow between his brows vanished, but the blatant, gaping, confusion remained. He looked like you’d nearly startled him into an early grave.
“I am one of your most important people?” he asked, slow as a tortoise making its way up an incline.
You nodded cheerfully, still bellied by your earlier culinary successes and excellent mood. “Of course you are! We’re friends, aren’t we? And besides. Valentine’s Day is for showing people how much you care about them.”
“What an interesting concept,” he mused, bringing a finger up to tap at his chin. “To think your world had such a heartfelt tradition—it’s quite a lovely surprise.”
You laughed. “If you think the chocolates are special, you should see what some couples do for each other. Rooms full of flowers, fancy date nights—I’m just managing the bare minimum.”
“Couples?” he echoed, and you felt the first teeny, hot, thread of chagrin work its way past your enthusiasm.
“Well, normally Valentine’s Day focuses on, like, romantic things,” you said, averting your gaze just in time to miss the tension lance through his shoulders. “But it can be for all sorts of affection!” you hastily added.
“Is that so…” the Prince hummed. He lifted his pensive gaze once more and stared you down with that weighted intensity that you’d only just recently learned how not to buckle beneath. “And you wish to celebrate this day. With me?”
“…you don’t mind, do you?” you asked, hesitant.
“Of course not, Child of Man,” he beamed, his lips curling up into a smile that put all his too-sharp teeth on display. “But you’ll have to excuse me now, I’m afraid. It seems I have some preparations to undertake this evening.”
“Oh,” you blinked. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yes,” Malleus said. “You will.”
.
.
It was officially Valentine’s Day, and you were ready to begin your mission of forcing your sweets onto every, single, one of your reluctant friends. Let them be pissy and tsundere. You weren’t afraid to weep and proclaim your undying, shounen-talk-no-jutsu, levels of friendship. Okay. Maybe you were a little. But these grouchy bastards had very easily become your grouchy bastards, and so help you God, they would suffer under your affection and they would like it.
There were plenty of small boxes—all nice, neat, corners with little bows perched on top. But you had also prepared a singular, larger, tray. It was cleaner cut than the rest, with bold, contrasting, colors and a simple elegance. You stared it down with a strange sort of disquiet brewing in your gut. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Goodness knows you’d more than dealt with the searing, emotionally destructive, consequences of that before. But all the same…
You squared your shoulders and spent a moment convincing yourself that your spine was quite sturdy—a proper, titanium, support system—and then popped the Big Box into the bag with the others.
Your first stop was Heartslabyul, and you burst through the ornate, crimson, doors like a manic home invader.
“I come bearing gifts,” you proclaimed, merrily doling out the boxes to your favorite idiot duo. You set three more aside, with little labels for Riddle, Trey, and Cater respectively. Normally you wouldn’t trust a dorm full of teenage boys not to devour any scrap of unattended food in sight, but Riddle had long since struck the fear of God into these poor lads. So you figured it’d be safe.
Deuce’s face lit up and he accepted the chocolate with near starry-eyed enthusiasm.
“Are these your holiday presents? Like the Santa Claus?” he asked, looking very much like a bouncy golden retriever preparing itself for congratulatory head pats.
You leaned forward with an indulgent huff to give him his pats. “No. But close enough.”
You pawned off three boxes on Ruggie when he tried to duck past you in the hallway—one for him, one for Leona, and one extra as payment for making him do your dirty work of playing delivery boy to Mister Grump in the first place. You slipped Jack his on the way into Trein’s morning lecture, and managed to press a box into Jamil’s hands before he slunk off to the library. Kalim cheered so loudly when you handed him one that your ears started to ring.
And then trouble arrived in the form of two, slippery, eels draping themselves across your shoulders. Normally the destructive duo seemed to act on their own prerogative, but on this fortuitous morning their Lord and Master was surprisingly not too far behind.
“Shrimpy!~” Floyd trilled, dragging you into a one-armed hug that was really more of a slightly-less-aggressive headlock than anything else. “Azul says you came up with this stupid holiday! And he made us work all day yesterdayto put together stuff for the Lounge! It’s not fair!”
Your legs shook under the weight of the new tumor that had made its home on your back.
“Now, Floyd,” Jade chirped. All finely manicured cruelty. “If you’re to blame anyone for going overboard with this entire situation, you ought to lay the fault on our fearless leader.” His bi-colored eyes flashed, amused. “Isn’t that right, Azul?”
Said ‘fearless leader’ looked like he was sucking on a lemon. He glared bitterly at his subordinate, seeming to share an entire, silent, argument with him, before turning back on you with a heavy sigh and the barest hint of angry flush in his cheeks.
“Prefect,” he grinned past his obvious discomfort, all sparkling, white, teeth. “I have to thank you for sharing so much information about this ‘Valentine’s Day’ of yours. It’s such a unique event, and it seems like our preparations at the Lounge are already being received incredibly well.”
“That’s good,” you nodded, trying and failing to shrug the Leech off your shoulders. “I’m glad I could help.”
Azul hummed under his breath, his eyes darting away for a moment. His glasses reflected the muted light of the hall in an odd way—making it difficult to read his expression. He cleared his throat and when he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears had gone pink.
“You’re more than welcome to come by, of course,” he beamed, suave as could be.
“I mean,” you blinked. “I would hope so. I work there.”
Floyd let out a bark of laughter and Jade snickered into his glove. The pleasant pink tinting Azul’s skin was heating to a near sunburned red. He looked down and coughed into his fist.
“Yes…” he mumbled. “I—I’m aware. But what I meant is… What I meant—” He frowned. It was a tight, pouty, little thing that scrunched up his entire face. That mottled red had spread to the bridge of his nose.
“I do believe what Azul is trying to say,” Jade stepped in, clearly taking some sort of pity on his tongue-tied friend. Or perhaps pity was the wrong word for it, seeing how smug he looked, “is that he would like to invite you to the event personally. As an honored guest, not an employee.”
“Oh,” you blinked, startled. Then hesitated, cautious on instinct. There was always some sort of catch to the Octomer’s kindness. “I don’t know if I could afford whatever fancy thing you’ve thrown together.”
“You wouldn’t be paying for it,” Azul assured you, some of that sickly flush having finally started to recede from his cheeks. You hoped he was feeling alright. “You’ve contributed more than enough for the day. It would be on the house.”
Jade loudly cleared his throat and Azul huffed, eyes sliding away yet again.
“I would be paying,” he finally mumbled. And then, even quieter, “As I believe is the custom.”
Just as you were about to thank him for his startling bought of generosity (and also ask after his health, because between the weird, pink, tinge to his skin and the aforementioned generosity, clearly somethingwas out of sorts with him), you noticed a sneaky hand working its way into your bag of goodies, and you immediately were on the defensive.
“Hey!” you snapped, spinning out of Floyd’s stranglehold. “You only get one!”
“Then I want the really big one!” he demanded, making grabby motions at it.
“No!” you squeaked, and clutched it protectively to your chest. The trio looked at you with varying degrees of surprise and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “This one—This one is special.”
“Oh?” Jade cooed, eyes flickering back towards Azul, who seemed determined to look absolutely anywhere else. “Is it now?”
“Awww,” Floyd whined. “That’s no fair! Who’s it for, anyways?!”
You gripped the box tighter and now it was your turn to stiffly avert your eyes down to the ugly carpet. “It’s not—I’m not—” you cleared your throat and forced the jitter from your voice. “I’m not ready to give it to him yet.”
The silence that followed was absolutely the worst thing you’d experienced in a long, long, time. Overblots and all. You could practically hear your blood pounding in your ears. You were just about to turn and beat a hasty retreat when a familiar, snappish, voice called your name from the other side of the corridor.
“There you are, potato,” Vil huffed, coming to stand at your side and bodily inserting himself between you and your tormentors. He met Azul’s petulant sneer with a frankly terrifying one of his own. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d be eating lunch with me today.”
You remembered no such thing, but if it got you out of this verbal minefield of a conversation, you were more than willing to take the claim at face value.
“Apologies,” Azul cut in with all his usual, mafioso, flair. “But the Prefect will be taking their afternoon meal at the Mostro Lounge today.”
“Is that so?” Vil hummed, sounding positively venomous.
“Unless you think you can make an offer good enough to sway them otherwise,” Azul chirped, equally as unpleasant.
Vil laughed—cold and sharp as crystal. It was the most elegant display of blatant irritation you’d ever seen.
“Of course you’d only consider this entire situation on a transactional basis,” he drawled, entirely unimpressed. Azul flinched and his expression screwed up into something near petulant. “I would expect no less. Are you planning to lock them into a contact too, hmm? Sign away everything in formal, sterile, terms?” Vil crossed his arms, and you were reminded sharply once more how very, very lucky you were to not be on his bad side (even if you hadn’t realized before all this that Azul apparently was on said bad side. You had no idea they disliked each other so terribly). “I really hadn’t expected you to have a single, romantic, bone in your body, and yet somehow I’m still disappointed to be proved so entirely correct.”
Azul looked ready to explode, and even though Jade and Floyd and melted back into the shadows at the start of this entire encounter, the pair of them were starting to look a bit murderous too—like sharks lazily circling the dark, ocean, depths.  
“Don’t you think you deserve better?” Vil asserted, turning back to face you with a soft cant of the head. You blinked back in shock.
“Uh,” you gaped, absolutely fucking lost.
And then, like a beacon of unrivaled, black-drenched, hope, you spotted Malleus making his way down the hallway. He was flanked by his trio of housemates-cum-pseudo-bodyguards. Normally you tried to leave him alone when his rabid, green-haired, guard dog was yipping at his heels, and on top of that, the idea of using your classmates’ ingrained fear of the Fae Prince to your own advantage upset your rather staunch sensibilities. But this was an emergency.
“Tsunotarou!” you called, and it absolutely sounded like the cry for help it was.
He perked up immediately and you watched him nearly crash to a standstill. And then his sharp, neon, gaze locked on the dueling Housewardens circling you like a pair of snapping wolves, and his merry expression shuttered into something positively glacial. Which was—Fuck. I mean. Come on. What the fuck was going on today—
“Child of Man,” he droned, crossing the short distance with all the grace of the near-mythical, arcane, master that he was. His posture was more collected and regal than you’d ever seen it, and he loomed all the taller for it.
Azul and Vil had gone tense at your side, one certainly more so than other. The Octomer looked incredibly unsettled at Malleus’s sudden arrival, but Vil just looked angrier. It was the sort of unpleasantness that bloomed whenever someone challenged him or his competencies over and over—inevitably pushing the normally composed beauty into an indignant rage.
“Happy Day of Valentine’s,” Malleus continued, slotting himself firmly into the veritable territory dispute going down. “Are you quite alright?”
No, you wanted to wail. No! I’m so confused! I have no idea what’s going on! I just wanted to give my friends chocolates!
But you never managed to get those words or any others past your lips, because Sebek Zigvolt shot to his master’s side with all the speed of the lightning for which he was so named, and immediately began to scream.
“HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE YOUNG MASTER’S AFTERNOON ROUTINE!” he shrieked at the top of his very impressive lungs.
You weren’t sure if he was howling at you (very likely) or just anyone who wasn’t Malleus, but Jade took the opportunity to slink forward from the shadows with a sharp tut-tut.
“Perhaps none of you deserve the Prefect’s special attentions,” he piped in, sounding very much like someone intentionally throwing a cannister of gasoline onto an already roaring fire. “Or any chocolates at all—let alone the ones set aside for someone special.”
At this, silence once more rang through the corridor and you wanted to throttle that stupid eel.
“There is a special box?” Malleus asked first, brow shooting up as his expression tugged with… something.
“I—I mean, I made all of yours special!” you defended, holding the wrapped treasure tightly to your chest. “But… I guess. Yes. There’s one that’s a little bigger than the others.”
At this, all three Housewardens exchanged pointed looks.
Jade smiled serenely once more, and then continued his absolute massacre upon your person.
“Yes, indeed,” he nodded. “And our dearest Prefect only just mentioned that—hmm. How did you word it? Ah. That’s right. ‘I’m not ready to give it to him yet.’”
The trio tensed. All looking absolutely ready to pounce. At—at what, you had no idea.
“Perhaps,” the wretch mused, “it would be best for you all to temper your rage until the victor is decided, hmm?” He paused to tap at his chin for a moment, and then his lips split into a mean, jagged, grin. “Afterwards? Well, I suppose that whole cheery sentiment about ‘love and war’ still holds true.”
You gulped, feeling startlingly like Jade had just tried to serve you up on a silver platter.
But when neither Azul, Vil, or Malleus made any further moves to murder each other… well. As sacrificial as it all felt, at least it must have worked.
The rest of the day passed in a tense sort of fugue. You certainly hadn’t expected your attempts at bringing some holiday cheer to Night Raven to go so… Uh…
But either way, you managed to survive through the rest of the afternoon, and before you knew it, all that remained of all your tireless efforts and good will was the Special Box. The big one. The one that you’d put together with extra care and hopes for better things. You glared down at it for a moment, feeling sweat starting to bead over your palms. But you couldn’t chicken out now. Not after you’d come so far! Everyone was acting so strange, and it was all so weird. And as much as that unfamiliarity had your teeth on edge and your hackles raised, you didn’t want to regret not giving out the last of your well-made sweets.
Well, here goes nothing, you frowned. You took a deep breath, willed yourself to be brave, and smiled your biggest smile.
“Here,” you beamed, more than a little shy and still a bit horrified by whatever pissing match had been going down earlier in the day, and finally offered the grandest of your chocolate boxes to the man standing opposite you.
Divus Crewel accepted your offering daintily, plucking at the crisp, sharp, wrapping with his crimson gloves. He arched one of his thin brows at you and you fought the nervous heat rising in your cheeks.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you blurted. “I know it’s not a thing here, but I thought it’d be nice.”
The second eyebrow joined the first—practically jumping all the way up into his fringe.
“I appreciate the gesture. Though from what I understand of all the garish advertising I’ve seen for Mostro Lounge’s new event, I assumed this was a holiday for romantic overtures,” he intoned, wry.
You spluttered and waved your hands furiously. “I mean! Normally! Yes! But also…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to fidget. “If you don’t have a—a, well, someone, then Valentine’s is just a nice excuse to give something to people you care about.” You averted your gaze and lost the battle to twist your fingers into your jacket sleeves. “My family used to give me chocolates every year. So. I thought I could… Well…” you trailed off on a grumble, embarrassed.
Crewel sighed and popped the lid off the box. He plucked two truffles from their casing—keeping one for himself and handing you the other.
“Well, then. A very happy Valentine’s to you, Prefect,” he droned and popped the chocolate into his mouth with a thoughtful hum.
You lit up like a Christmas tree and happily gobbled up your own treat. So distracted were you by the one-two-punch combo of the delicious sugar and even sweeter taste of your Professor’s approval that you almost entirely missed the pointed glare he shot over your shoulder.
“I appreciate your regard,” he said, loud. Sharp. And like he wasn’t talking to you at all. “And while I’m certain that if you do pick a ‘someone’ for yourself to celebrate with in the following years, they’ll have to work very hard to be worthy of such a gift, hmm?” His lip curled unpleasantly, in direct contrast to the indulgent warmth that had been tugging at his expression only a moment before. “I could hardly allow you to waste such a thoughtful gesture on someone unworthy.”
The Octavinelle Housewarden had the decency to look at least a little panicked—his face going pale and gaunt from where he was shrinking into his high collar. There was a frantic look about him, like he was trying to weigh the cost-benefit ratio of going up against his professor in his head, and realizing that he was stupidly, willfully, walking right into a lose-lose situation. And that, sadly—miserably—he was going to keep doing just that. The other two, however, looked entirely undeterred. Schoenheit curled his lip right back at him, more than ready to duke it out here and now, and Crewel fought the urge to remind the blonde that he was the adult in this situation, thank you very much. The adult who could very well revoke the Warden’s access to his Alchemy Labs as it suited him. The very alchemy labs that he knew Vil had been using to concoct all kinds of new, personalized, gifts for you. Draconia simply looked on with that unnervingly ancient, green, leer of his. Like he was staring down a particularly fascinating game. The Fae Prince was the most unsettling of the trio, if only because that while Crewel was more than confident enough in his abilities to subdue his other wayward students, fighting off an Immortal, All Powerful, Dragon was going to require at least a little bit of prep work.
Divus Crewel sighed, and it rattled all the way out from the marrow of his bones.
“Come, then,” he rumbled, directing you to follow him back into his office. “It’s not chocolates, but I probably have some of those ridiculous cookies of yours lying around somewhere.” Which he did. Boxes upon boxes of them. Tucked away special for whenever you came to visit. Not that he’d ever willingly admit that, even under the pain of death.
Your eyes went wide and warm as you positively beamed.
It was rotten work, certainly. He shot one, last, warning glare down the hall at the trio of infatuated interlopers as he firmly shut his office door behind you and your absolute oblivious idiocy. He’d do it. Of course he would. But, Christ alive. He was going to need a stronger drink.
3K notes · View notes
7ndipity · 2 months
Text
“Are You Confident?”
fwb!Jungkook x Plus Size Reader
Summary: The one where you get fed up with Jungkook’s teasing and decide to take him up on his offer.
Word Count: just under 1.7k
Warnings: +18 mdni, smut. oral(m. receiving), swearing, Jk starts out fuckboy-ish but turns subby, slight dom reader, reader’s referred to as Noona, not proofread
A/N: This idea has been sitting in my drafts since early December, but I finally managed to finish part one! This is sort of a prequel to this drabble, so if you can read it too if you liked this one. I’ll also be posting part two and a masterlist(hopefully)later this week, so lmk what you think!
Masterlist
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If you had to choose a favorite place in the whole world, you would choose Jungkook’s apartment without a thought. Not your own apartment, not you favorite shop, not even the dream vacation you’d been planning and saving up for forever, just being tucked into the corner of Jungkook’s couch, Bam curled up next to you, his massive head resting in your lap, subtly begging for pets as you vented to his owner about your most recent dating fiasco.
The guy one of your friends had set you up with had seemed nice enough at first, but as dinner progressed, things had progressively gone downhill.
“Did he least pay for dinner?” Jungkook asked, sprawled on the opposite end of the couch.
“I’d assume so, I walked out before the bill even came.” You replied, taking a long drink from your glass.
“Why do you even bother with dating anyway? You said before you hated it.” He asked.
“I’ve told you, I’m… lonely.” You said pointedly, avoiding his eyes.
He squinted at you, understanding suddenly flashing across his face.
“Ah, so you just need to get laid?” He asked, sitting back with a smirk as your face flushed with color. “Why didn’t you just say so? I could help you with that.”
“Ugh, shut up.” You groaned, getting up and heading to the kitchen.
“I’m serious.” He said, following you. “It’s better than fucking some random asshole.”
This type of conversation was a recurring thing in your friendship. Jungkook loved to tease you, and with a relationship that had grown as close as yours had, he had plenty of opportunities.
Your friends often joked that the two of you should just date already with the way you acted with each other, often toeing the line between what was typically considered okay for ‘just friends’. You’d slept in the same bed more times than you could count(a fact that had made Taehyung nearly choke on his drink when he’d found out), you’d even kissed at his friend's New Years Eve party after a few too many drinks and a similar conversation to the one you were currently having, lamenting about not having someone to kiss at midnight.
You didn’t know what had possessed you to do it, all you could remember was hearing the countdown and leaning in, connecting your lips with his for the briefest moment, only for him to quickly chase after yours when you had started to pull away.
Neither of you had brought it up afterwards, but the memory of it was permanently seared into your mind; the feel of his lips moving against yours, the way his hands had gently gripped your waist-
You shook your head, redirecting your attention back to the current moment, trying to ignore Jungkook as he leaned against the counter next to you.
“Look, if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine, I’m just offering a possible solution to your problem,” He said, shrugging as he grinned at you. “You know, if you’re really desperate.”
You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. When's the last time you even went on a date again?”
Your words had the desired effect on him, turning his expression sour.
“That’s different, I’ve been… busy.” He said grudgingly.
“Uh-huh, sure.” You grinned triumphantly.
“I mean it though,” He said. “If that’s really all you’re after, I’d be glad to help.”
You blinked at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” He shrugged. “I mean, like you said, it’s not like I've got anything going either. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, just two friends helping each other out.”
“That is, if you think you can handle me.” He added with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes, letting out an irritated laugh. “Please, I could handle you.”
“Are you confident?” He asked, quirking a brow at you.
“Yes.” You answered immediately, catching both him and yourself off guard as you stared him down.
Your words weren’t entirely true, you weren’t all that confident when it came to things like this, but Jungkook had a way of triggering your stubborn streak, whether it was with that cocky smile he always threw your way or the domineering tone he like to tease you with, something about him made you suddenly brave and willing to challenge anything he said.
Normally, that was part of what made your friendship fun, the two of you constantly bickering and at odds with each other, but this was much different than arguing over where to get dinner or what to watch on tv.
You were chest to chest now, able to feel his heart pounding surprisingly fast as he stared down at you.
“Prove it.” He said, his tone having lost its teasing edge as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your mouth.
That was all it took to make you break.
You closed the gap between the two of you, pushing him back against the wall as your lips clashed.
This wasn’t at all like the first time you’d kissed, there was no hesitancy or tender playfulness, it was hot and rushed and needy, full of tongue and teeth.
You were aware of a voice in the back of your head frantically screaming at you, something about how this was terrible idea and could ruin things between you and Jungkook completely, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care as his warm hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as his tongue fought with yours for dominance. He tasted sharp and sweet like the wine you had brought, his skin hot under your fingertips as your hands slipped from his shoulders to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly at the strands and earning a low grunt from him.
His grip on your hips tightened before sliding down to grope your ass, grinding you against the growing bulge in his pants.
A surprised squeak left you, making him chuckle against your lips as you mentally cursed yourself. You were not about to let him have the upper hand, not this quickly.
You slipped a hand down between you to palm him over his pants, squeezing just enough to cause what sounded very much like a moan to you to release from his throat, though you knew he’d tried to deny it.
Just as suddenly as you’d begun, you pulled away, making his eyes snap open in confusion.
“What are you-?” He panted, stopping in shock as you dropped to your knees in front of him.
“I’m helping you out.” You said simply, undoing his belt as you looked up at him with doe eyes. “Is that okay?”
He nodded, breathing unsteadily.
“I need words, Sweetie.” You said, making him flush at the petname as you fiddled with his zipper. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”
“I want it,” He quickly blurted, giving up control with surprising ease as he stared down at you, eyes black with need. “I-I want your mouth, please.”
“Good boy.” You tugged his jeans down, revealing the prominent tent in his boxers, a small wet patch on the material showing just how eager he was.
“These are cute.” You commented, toying with the waistband before letting it snap back against his skin, making him jump slightly. “Purple looks good on you.”
“Noona, please.” He whined in frustration, his head falling back against the wall as his hips twitched forward involuntarily.
“Fine, since you’re asking so politely.” You pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free, hanging heavy in front of your face.
He was slightly bigger than you expected, the tip flushed deep red and leaking precum as you took him in your hand, making him shudder.
“Mm, should’ve known, even your cock’s pretty.” You mused, leaning in to give it a cursory lick, sucking the tip into your mouth for a moment before pulling back, leaving a few kisses along the underside of his length as you glanced up at him to gauge his reaction.
He was staring down at you slack-jawed, his breaths coming out in uneven pants as you pumped him with your hand.
He already looked slightly fucked out and you’d barely done anything to him yet, giving you a massive surge of confidence as you held eye contact with him, gathering as much spit as you could in your mouth before letting it dribble down over his twitching length.
“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, squiming slightly.
Still holding his gaze, you took him fully into your mouth, sinking down as far as you could go.
“Fuck!” He gasped, his head falling back against the wall with a thump as you pulled back, swirling your tongue around him teasingly before sinking down again, letting him hit the back of your throat and holding him there for a moment before pulling off.
You quickly found your rhythm, bobbing your head up and down on him and using your hands on what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.
He let out a low whine, fists clenched so tight against his thighs his knuckles had gone white.
Noticing this, you used your free hand to guide his to your head, letting him tangle his fingers in your hair and giving him something to ground himself with.
All too soon, you felt him beginning to tense, his grip on your head tightening as his thighs started to shake.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” He whimpered. “Where do you want me to-?”
You only answer to him taking him and deeper and swallowing around him, making him cry out as his hip bucked forward, fucking your face as he chased his release.
“Shit, Y/n, I-” His words were choked off with a groan as he came, cumming down your throat in hot spurts.
He slumped back against the wall, breathing hard as you slowly pulled off of him, making a point to meet his eyes again as you swallowed.
“Shit, Y/n,” He said weakly as you stood back up. “That was-”
You cut him off with another kiss, feeling him twitch against your leg as he tasted himself on your tongue.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @ldysmfrst
522 notes · View notes
juyeonszn · 5 months
Text
EXCITEMENT
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PAIRING ji changmin x f!reader
WORD COUNT 6.22k
GENRES smut ﹒angst ﹒fluff
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, best friends to lovers, numerous mentions of the female orgasm, ji changmin is a bit of a manwhore, mentions of alcohol, insane tension my b, intense making out x2, oral (m! and f! receiving), multiple orgasms, couch sex but missionary, unprotected sex (wrap before u fucking tap -_-), creampie, changmin is lowkey very whipped and very pussy drunk in this, also forewarning for every fic in this collab— there is lots of foreshadowing and references to the other fics since they all fall within the same timeline/universe!
SUMMARY you know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. what you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.
MORE i hope u jichang lovers are strapped in and ready for this… kinda went crazy with it 😭😭 um anyway?? first fic of the black out or back out collab?? crazy!! this fic actually ruined me. it used up all my brain power so if every other one sucks u can’t blame me!! it’s the law!! also, i’d like to take a moment to wish my boyz a very happy 6th anniversary <3 so so proud of all they’ve accomplished these past 6 years and i can’t wait to see what they do in the next 6. in this deobi shit 4L frfr 🙏🙏
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel
TAGLIST @millksea
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“No fucking way.”
You blink at Soyeon. It wasn’t that hard to believe. In fact, it was pretty easy to believe. You set down the bowl of popcorn on your lap and nod slowly.
“Uh, yeah. Yes fucking way,” a nervous laugh escapes your lips. “I’ve had to fake it with every guy I’ve ever been with. I don’t know what it is. Maybe something’s wrong with me.”
Men were… incompetent at certain things. And apparently your pleasure was one of those. Every dude you’ve ever slept with failed to make you finish. It was at the point that you felt that you were the problem. It would be understandable if it had been a couple guys, but every single one? Your luck had to be complete ass.
The only reason the topic had been brought up was because Soyeon had mentioned something about her last fling during your movie night. She was talking about how that had been the best sex she's ever had and it spurred you into making your confession. The last guy you’d been with had probably been the worst.
“Never?” Jiwon’s jaw drops, elbows resting on her knees. “How are you still alive, girl? How do you get your fix?”
“My hand, my vibrator, my pillow sometimes,” you shrug, picking at a loose thread on your blanket. “I’ve learned to make do with my situation, I guess. If I can’t get it elsewhere, I’ll just do it myself, y’know?”
Your girl friends look at you with pouts on their lips, as if they were the ones experiencing your misfortunes. You hadn’t even expected it to be such a big deal. You’d thought this was a normal, common occurrence. Boys usually sucked at things when it came to girls. But they all took this as a personal hit, like you were a fallen soldier in battle.
Perhaps the female orgasm was far more important than you assumed it to be.
“Considering who your best friend is, you’d think you were getting good dick left and right,” Dahyun snorts into her glass of wine. “This is actually kinda insane.”
You guess she had a point, despite you both leading very different lives. Changmin, your best friend, was known as one of the many heartthrobs on campus. He was in a fraternity, played on the school’s baseball team, and he even played with other things. Namely the hearts of practically every other girl at your university.
You’d think it would bother you to be so close to a man who couldn’t give less of a fuck about those of the same sex as you. But for some reason, you couldn’t find it in you to care. It’s not like he was bragging about the bitches he bagged on a regular basis. Though you were his best friend, he understood boundaries. He knew what was appropriate to talk about with you and respected that.
Your friends laugh at her observation, but drop the conversation after that, resuming the movie you were watching. However, it’s not that easy for you.
You can’t stop wondering if something really *is wrong with you. Why was it that everyone and their mom was capable of finishing and you weren’t? It was more unlikely that every single man you’ve been with sexually was that mediocre. Were you really that unlucky?
It bothers you so much that you find yourself still thinking about it well into the following week.
With the start of the new semester, came the adjustment of new classes. Even though you were a Communications major, you made the grave mistake of taking Lifespan Growth and Development with Changmin for the extra credit. He was an Early Childhood Education major, so it was a requirement for him, but not for you. (Honestly, he only forced you to take it with him so you had at least one lecture together. He was afraid your friendship might start to fade if you didn’t see each other often.)
Imagine how horrified you felt when your professor began to talk about babies and their circadian rhythm, but the only thing in your head was the fact that you’d never orgasmed because of a man. You felt like you were going crazy at this point. Really, the thought should’ve been long forgotten by now. But you couldn’t help yourself from dwelling on it, especially after your friends made jokes at your expense.
As you’re walking out of the lecture hall side by side with Changmin, you keep your focus on the ground, your hearing going in and out. His voice is staticy, your brain only registering words here and there. You’re a little pissed off that this has become such an issue.
He notices your lack of response and stops walking, eyebrows furrowed. You pause in your tracks along with him. “Are you good? You’ve been spacing out all morning.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you shake your head as if that would rid of these stupid thoughts. “I’m just a little tired, I guess. I haven’t been getting much sleep.”
“Well, you better fix that. We’re expecting this weekend’s party to be one of the bigger ones this semester. Juyeon’s passing those fliers around like it’s his job,” Changmin purses his lips with a snort, ruffling your hair. “I need my beer pong partner to be in tip-top shape.”
You scratch the back of your neck. Half of you was kind of hesitant to go to this weekend’s TBZ party considering that was where you met the dude who started this whole downward spiral. He made an offhand comment about seeing you again, but you were actually hoping that would never happen. And with your fortune, the probability of running into him was pretty high.
“You see…“ You begin, but Changmin interrupts you with a distressed groan before you can continue.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of flaking,” his arms fall to his sides as his head tips back dramatically. “Y/N, I really need you there. How else am I gonna smoke everyone? I need— I mean we need to keep our title.”
Sometimes you wish Ji Changmin took anything else as seriously as he takes beer pong. You suppose it came with being a fraternity brother or something. They all drank alcohol like it was fucking water. You’re still sort of surprised none of them (Sunwoo) has gotten alcohol poisoning yet.
“I’m just… trying to avoid someone. And they’ll probably be there.” You sigh, fiddling with your fingers. Your best friend gives you an unreadable look that flashes across his face only for a moment.
“Tell me who it is. I’ll make sure they’re not allowed in. I’d much rather have you there than some rando who’s bugging you.” He says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants.
“That’s really unne—“
“Yo, Changmin! Aren’t you going with us to Cobie’s?”
You both turn towards the sudden intrusion, the voice belonging to Eric Sohn. He’s around 50 feet away from where you’re standing, joined by Kim Sunwoo and Ju Haknyeon. Changmin yells out his answer and spins back to you, an apologetic smile on his face. Somehow, you’re a little grateful for the interruption.
“We’ll finish this later, okay?” He nods at you, heading backwards in their direction. “You’re going, Y/N.”
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You really should’ve listened to your instincts when they told you to skip out on the party.
You’re well aware that every attendee was crucial for the TBZ boys and their stupid rivalry with the KAT girls. So maybe you understood why Changmin needed you there so badly, aside from the obvious beer pong thing. However, you were starting to regret showing up.
First of all, Ji Changmin was nowhere to be found. Second of all, Jeon Soyeon was hounding you all night about the secret you so idiotically shared with your gal pals.
She was dead set on finding you a solution. (Basically, she was scanning the crowd of partygoers for a suitable man to satisfy your overdue needs. And she was proving devastatingly unsuccessful.)
You were too anxious to drink, also. Your feet were bouncing from where you sat on the couch, and your fingers couldn’t stop fidgeting. The antsiness was getting annoying at this point and you were hoping your knight in shining armor (Ji Changmin) revealed himself soon. Lest he wanted to lose out on his beloved beer pong partner.
It appears that your years of honing in on your manifestation powers have finally come to fruition when you spot Younghoon and Juyeon hauling the beer pong table into the living room. Where one of those tables are stationed, you know you’re guaranteed to find your best friend. The shorter of the two gentle giants cups his hands around his mouth and announces the first round of tonight’s tournament.
You stand from your seat, grabbing the opportunity to break free of Soyeon’s efforts to pimp you out. You’re ready to confirm you and Changmin’s spot in the tournament, when you see that you’ve already been beaten to it. It takes absolutely everything in you not to let your jaw drop and your eyes to tear up.
Some girl who happens to be in your Lifespan Growth and Dev class (you think her name is Iseul) is draped over Changmin’s arm, signing them up for the first round. He doesn’t look like he wants to, but makes no effort to refuse her.
You don’t know why it irks you. It shouldn’t irk you.
You’ve never cared about who he spends his free time with in the past. It’s been so easy for you to let his behavior slide, brushing it under the rug like it was no biggie. But this time, you care a whole lot. You chalk it up to the fact that he was seemingly replacing you as his beer pong partner, even though that was the entire reason why he wanted you to come to the party.
Yeah. That’s why.
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips just as Hyunjae passes by, no doubtedly heading to the beer pong table. You catch the sleeve of his polo and force him to halt in his steps. You’re not even sure why the hell he’s wearing a polo in the first place, his outfit embodying the stereotypical frat boy perfectly. This looked nothing like his usual wardrobe.
“Oh, hey Y/N, what’s up?” He smiles that award-winning Hyunjae smile, the one that manages to charm every girl in the room every single time he pulls it out. He brings the brim of his red solo cup up to his lips and finishes whatever’s left in it with one swig. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Do you wanna be my beer pong partner?” Okay, well now you’ve said it so there’s no going back.
His eyebrow shoots up in a mixture of shock and pleasant surprise. “Me? You’re not gonna ask Changmin?”
“He’s…” Your eyes flitter over to where he stands with Iseul(?), Hyunjae’s following. No. You’re okay. This isn’t getting to your head at all. Everything’s cool and peachy. “He’s too preoccupied.”
Hyunjae chooses not to say anything, instead nudging you over to the opposite end of the table. Changmin’s eyes widen when he sees the two of you, even having the audacity to look scandalized. God, maybe that was his biggest fault. He was so entitled.
So, it was just fine for him to bail on you in favor of some girl he didn’t even know, but the second you talk to one of his frat brothers, it’s off the table? What a fucking hypocrite. The whole ordeal was actually beginning to get on your nerves now. All you wanted to do was win this stupid beer pong game to show him that he’ll never find a partner as good as you.
Woah. Holy shit, Y/N. You need to dial it back a bit with the possessiveness. That was a lot, especially for you.
Juyeon narrows his eyes at you and then glances over to Changmin, the cogs turning in his head slowly. You’re not sure if that’s because he’s so used to seeing you both on the same side of the beer pong table, or because his vision was so shitty. Either way, it has you cowering behind Hyunjae a little as he dips the ping pong ball into the cup of water in the center.
“Okay, you know the rules. Let’s have a healthy, friendly game,” Younghoon says, tapping the table with a smile. “No playing dirty. I’m looking at you, Hyunjae.”
The brunette raises his hands in surrender, doing a quick bout of rock, paper, scissors with Changmin to determine which team went first. He wins with a quirk of his lips, sauntering back over to you. After rolling his neck around and popping his fingers, he tosses the ball right into Changmin and Iseul’s center cup.
You hate to admit it, but Hyunjae’s actually pretty good at this. You’ve never really paid attention to anyone else’s beer pong skills considering you’ve only ever played with Changmin as your partner. Who knows, maybe you’ll switch over permanently after this. At least, you might if he keeps up whatever it is that he’s doing.
Your best friend’s jaw tightens as he grabs the red solo cup, chugging what’s inside. He huffs and takes his turn, nearly missing with the way the ball circles around the rim. He sighs in relief at the same time you grimace. You still hadn’t had anything to drink all night and starting with fucking beer was probably the worst idea.
The game probably would’ve been a bit more competitive had Iseul been decent at beer pong, but she sucked. So Hyunjae and yourself always kept your lead by one cup or more. Karma is a dish best served cold, or however the saying goes. And karma certainly presented itself in the form of Ji Changmin’s first ever TBZ beer pong tournament loss.
Hyunjae high fives you with a cheesy grin, lacing your fingers together and shaking them around. He presses a kiss to your temple and guides you away from the table as Juyeon and Younghoon clear it for the second round. It wasn’t odd for any of the TBZ boys to show you affection since you were like a sister to most of them, but this felt… kind of weird. You can’t pinpoint exactly why, but it made you feel off.
“You’re my secret weapon,” he laughs, hands burying into the pockets of his khaki shorts. “I’m gonna steal you as my partner permanently.”
As much as you joked around in your head, the truth of the matter was that you could never actually replace Changmin. In spite of him acting like a complete dumbass tonight, he was still your best friend. Not even the biggest of fights would change that fact.
Before you can dismiss him, Changmin is stalking over to you with a slight scowl. His nostrils flare a bit as he asks, “Can we talk?”
You barely nod and then he’s fisting the material of your top at the small of your back, urging you away from the living room. Your feet keep tripping over themselves while you attempt to match his pace but he’s too determined to reach his destination in mind to even notice. No one even bats an eye as you get ushered to your demise.
You’re coaxed into a nearby bathroom without a word, your best friend standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest. Because you hadn’t seen him a majority of the night, you hadn’t gotten the chance to get a good look at him. He was wearing a long sleeve striped polo and some baggy jeans, which probably would look basic on anyone else. But this is Ji Changmin. Girls flocked after him for a reason.
“Why would you play with Hyunjae? You know the type of guy he is. Now he thinks he has a shot with you or something.” As soon as he opens his mouth, you remember the type of guy he is.
“What does it matter to you? You were too busy giggling with your flavor of the week. Of course I wasn’t gonna wait around for you.” You bite back, mirroring his stance.
“Flavor of the—?” His eyebrows scrunch together in confusion and then everything settles in. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” you laugh humorlessly. “Don’t act all hypocritical with me, Changmin. I can’t believe I even came to this fucking party for you when you didn’t even bother giving me the same energy. Best friend, my ass.”
A scoff brushes past your lips and you turn to exit the bathroom, but he grabs your wrist. His grip isn’t too harsh, but it’s tight enough to stop you from going anywhere. “Wait. Don’t leave.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.” Your eyes flick back and forth between his and the fingers wrapped around your forearm. And you know, you really should’ve predicted what would happen after that. The nature of your words were provocative in their own right, not to mention the tension brewing in the midst of your argument.
From one second to the next, Changmin’s mouth is on your own, your back pressed to the bathroom door. His hands are everywhere and nowhere all at once; digging into your sides, running through your hair, caressing your face. You feel insane. Your head feels empty, no coherent thoughts running through it as his lips move against yours.
They migrate along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking wherever they feel fit. Everything is moving way too fast for you to comprehend what’s happening. His lips feel so good on your skin, you’re having trouble finding the strength in you to stop him. But you know you have to. This was your best friend, for god’s sake. And besides, you didn’t want to deal with the disappointment you’ve faced time and time again when it came to men. You couldn’t handle feeling that way toward him.
Your palm presses against his chest and you try your hardest to ignore the sensation of his heart thumping beneath it. Your eyes squeeze shut as you push him off of you gently. Not expecting the sudden disruption, he stumbles backwards slightly. He’s a little dazed, like he, too, has not a single thought in that brain of his.
“I can’t— we can’t—“ You’re breathless, heaving up and down as if you’d just ran a damn marathon. “I have to go.”
You don’t give Changmin any freedom to react, escaping the bathroom exasperated. There’s too much going through your mind to search for Soyeon, leaving the party as quickly as you can. The moment your foot steps out of the front door, it’s like you’re given some clarity. The fresh air feels cool on your warm skin while you take the walk back to your apartment, not in the mood to sit in a stuffy car with anyone else. You needed to think clearly and vulnerably, and someone being there would just hinder that.
But first, you had to figure out where to go from here.
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It’s been a couple days since the last TBZ party and you were still avoiding Ji Changmin like he was the plague.
You were definitely wishful thinking when you decided to just ignore things until you had class together. And even then, you were planning on pretending like nothing even happened. Fucking up your friendship with him was something you couldn’t stand emotionally. Or physically. It would be akin to the pain of having your heart ripped straight from your chest.
Meeting Changmin when you did was almost like a blessing in disguise. His attitude about life was exactly what you needed coming into university. You were shy and scared of your new surroundings. You had no friends, you were far from your family, and your imposter syndrome was through the roof. But then he swooped in and made everything better somehow. As much as it was a snooze fest, you’ll eternally be a little bit grateful for sharing that First Year Seminar class with him.
Deep down, a piece of you has always belonged to Changmin. From that first day of freshman year to now, you’ve always held him to a different standard than everyone else. You liked to believe it was because he was your best friend, the one person who sought you out even when it felt like no one ever would. And until very recently, you kept trying to convince yourself that was the case.
If you slept together that might be worse. What if he ended up like every other guy you’ve landed in bed with? What if he couldn’t satisfy you? It would make it even more strained. You didn’t want to end up like every other girl who’s vied for his heart and failed miserably. He wasn’t a relationship person.
Falling for him alone would complicate everything. If he didn’t feel the same, it would be weird between you and your friendship would never go back to normal. Yet as you lay here, body bundled in your comforter and drowning in one of the many sweatshirts he’s left over at your apartment, scrolling through his feed, you realize that there’s no return from this point. Now that you’ve contemplated the idea, you’re too far in.
You know, the universe had funny ways of rewarding you. (Or rather, punishing you.)
There’s a knock at your front door. You’re not entirely sure who it could be since you weren’t expecting anyone, but one glance through the peephole and it’s all over for you. You consider stepping away, running and cowering in your bedroom until he disappears so you can go back to dissimulating that your entire life wasn’t crumbling to your feet.
“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Open up, please, we need to talk.”
You curse under your breath but unlock the door anyway, maneuvering so he can come inside with ease. Changmin stares at you with an unreadable expression for a minute, vision raking over your figure. Maybe you’re imagining it, but it’s something similar to how men have looked at you before, like they were undressing you with their eyes. That’s when you remember that you were wearing his sweatshirt.
Without pants underneath…
The wind knocks out of him in an instant, something primal coming over him when his gaze lands on you in his clothing. He knows he shouldn’t think about you the way he does. He shouldn’t think of how pretty you are when your pen is caught in your teeth, attempting to make sense of whatever your professor was talking about. He shouldn’t think of the way your cheeks flush when you’ve had too much alcohol at one of the TBZ parties. He shouldn’t think of kissing you, or pressing up against you like a dog in heat. He shouldn’t be thinking of the kiss you shared Friday night.
You’re his best friend, the one person in the world who has ever understood him. The one who’s always glued to his side even when he may be in the wrong. Why would he ever want something different? How could he ask for more when he should be thankful for what he was already given?
“Why are you pushing me away? Why are you ignoring me?” Is what he finally asks after the silence has become unbearable.
“Changmin,” you swallow thickly, hesitative with what you say next. “Friends don’t kiss— we don’t kiss.”
He takes a step forward, and then another, and then another until he’s only arms’ length from you. “But, we could.”
You release a shuddery breath, reaching out to stop him from coming any closer. “P-Please. We can’t do this— I can’t do this.”
“Why not?” He pushes. He knows he’s tiptoeing the edge of something else. There’s a fine line between what you have now, and what he’s wanted for so long. It’s always been a matter of if you wanted that too. “Is it because you just don’t want to?”
You’re not even sure how to respond to him. Of course you want this. It isn’t that you don’t want him. You’re more scared than anything. You’re scared of becoming just another victim of Ji Changmin’s charms, of giving into him and it leading to another let down. Your resistance is evident on your face, and you’re not all that taken aback when he sighs.
“I’ve wanted you since that first day of First Year Seminar, Y/N. No one has ever compared to you and no one ever will,” he confesses, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I sleep with random girls to get you off my mind, to forget that I’m pretty fucking in love with my best friend.”
Then it all clicks.
It’s like you’ve come to the biggest realization of your life, an epiphany striking you suddenly with the weight of a freight train. It all trickles into place, the reason why you’ve never enjoyed yourself during sex. The reason why you’ve never finished at the hands of any man you’ve been with intimately.
None of them were Ji Changmin. None of them were the best friend that your heart has belonged to since your freshman year.
You press your lips to his without any warning, nearly colliding into him with the force of your impatience. He reciprocates immediately, fingers tangling in your hair and holding you closer than physically possible. You tilt your head to deepen the kiss, tongue dragging along his lower lip. Years of repressed longing and pining find themselves surfacing in this one kiss.
Changmin’s hands travel to your waist, burrowing into the fabric of his sweatshirt as he yanks you toward the couch. He falls to a sitting position when the backs of his knees hit the edge, your knees resting on either side of his lap. You don’t break apart once, not even to gasp for air as he grinds you down onto him. Through the material of his cargos you can feel him. He’s just as throbbing as you are, your core pulsing with a need unlike any other.
His fingers reach for the hem of the sweatshirt and that’s when you pause him, your nerves getting the best of you. He frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just,” admitting this a second time isn’t easier. “I’ve never— nobody’s ever made me… you know…”
The corners of his lips curl up, thumbs rubbing the backs of your thighs. “You’ve never came before, baby?”
Your breathing stutters in your chest, the smugness of his voice sending shockwaves through your body. You should’ve fully expected him to be a master at pillowtalk, what with the whole Sex-God persona and all that jazz, but it still catches you off guard. You shake your head shyly, arms hooked around his neck. His mouth attaches to the spot behind your ear, sucking the skin tenderly.
“I’ll make sure you’re ruined for anyone else,” his voice is no louder than a whisper, but sounds deafening to the cotton stuffing the place where your brain should be. “I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t think twice about who you belong to.”
A small whine emits from your throat, hips gyrating themselves onto his crotch. He bucks up into you instinctively, keeping you still on his lap. The sheer possessiveness of his tone is driving you up the wall. That seemed to be something you had in common with each other. You’re lightheaded, too many layers of clothing blocking the space between you. Changmin connects your lips again, sliding his hands beneath the sweatshirt so his fingers can hook into the waistband of your panties.
He helps you out of them and your top, baring your entire body to him. The way his cock twitches makes him feel like a goddamn teenager. You paw at the zipper of his pants as he pulls off his t-shirt, tugging the cargos down his legs so you can kneel between them. If he thought he wasn’t going to last before, he’s certain of it now. He wraps your hair around his fist in a makeshift ponytail, watching you with hooded eyes as you kiss his tip.
“You look so gorgeous like this,” his voice is wavering, his composure drifting off.
That encourages you to take him into the wet heat of your mouth, tongue twirling around the tip. You run it along his slit, tasting the precum that had formed there. His head falls back onto the sofa cushions, jerking his hand back a bit and tugging your hair just enough for it to sting. You moan around his dick, the pain providing more pleasure than its intended purpose.
He bucks up into your mouth yet again, his length gliding down your throat. Not prepared for the intrusion, you gag, pulling off of his cock with a string of saliva bridging your lips to the tip. Tears prick at your eyes for a second, and then you’re going back in.
This time you manage to relax your throat, fitting more than you could prior. Changmin’s eyes are half lidded, not once daring to look anywhere that wasn’t you. The sight of you so eager to please, so desperate to reward him in spite of you being the one who’s never orgasmed before, was clouding his thinking.
The image of you on your knees, sucking him off like your life depended on it, would be burned into his brain for the rest of his life. (Not that he minded. You lived there practically rent free, anyways.)
Your attention stays on the tip of his cock, tongue repeatedly alternating with dragging under the head and the slit on top. He could die happily, actually, the fear that he may never have you in this way finally dissipating into thin air. Want could only take a man so far.
He doesn’t stay sentimental for very long, remembering that you were currently between his legs and the inner monologue could wait for later. Though, he makes the grave mistake of making direct eye contact with you and it’s game over after that point.
Changmin finishes with a groan, his cum painting your chest with milky white ropes. He cups both sides of your face, bringing you up to kiss you messily. He doesn’t care that he can taste himself in your mouth, nipping your bottom lip to pry it open. The two of you swap spots, with him now on the floor and you on the couch. He pushes up your knees, spreading them to gain access to your cunt, glistening with your slick.
He presses a soft kiss to your clit, glancing up at you through his lashes to gauge your reaction. He not only had a reputation to defend, but he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was going to be the first man to make you cum. But it wasn’t sufficient to just fuck you, he needed to do more than that. He needed to flood your senses and show you exactly what you’ve been missing out on.
His tongue circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, his ring and middle fingers going counter-clockwise on your entrance. He can hear the laboring of your breathing, the sharp exhale through your nostrils when he experimentally slides one of them inside of you. He starts to pump it slowly, building up the pace until he adds the other finger, curling them.
You whine when Changmin’s lips envelope your clit, suckling like a man starved. His fingers south don’t halt their assault, the palm of his other hand flattening on your lower stomach. You reach down to card through his hair, clutching the strands for support. He groans against your pussy, the vibrations contributing to the knot growing tighter in your abdomen.
He switches his tongue and fingers a moment later, lapping at your hole and swiping at your clit in a close ovular pattern with his thumb. You’re dizzy, lids fluttering shut and back arching off the cushions in a weak attempt to minimize the space between you. Changmin pins down your hips with his forearm, continuing making out with your cunt.
He flips the stimulation once more, mouth on your clit and fingers buried deep inside of you in an instant. He keeps his eyes on you, focused on every scrunch of your face and slacking of your jaw. The sudden difference in sensations has a loud moan ripping from your vocal cords, that knot coming undone almost too quickly for it being your first time in this position. You feel his lips turn up in a smile, like he’s proud of himself for doing the impossible.
Changmin pulls back slightly, his fingers still working you down from your peak. When he thinks you’ve calmed, he’s up and kissing you, petting your hair gently. “You did so well for me, baby.”
“I’ve made myself cum so many times before, but never like that— holy shit, Changmin…” You’re a little stunned and he finds it cute, despite you both being in such a compromising situation.
“I need you to give me one more, is that okay?” He lays you on your back, hovering over you. “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum on my cock.”
You pull him down for another kiss, pecking the side of his neck with a hum. “Want you to fill me up, too.”
The groan that leaves him is guttural, his forehead falling onto your collarbone. Dreams really do come true. He hikes up one of your legs, lining himself up with you. He guides his cock into you and watches you for any moves of discomfort. A whimper bubbles past as he slips in, bottoming out smoothly. Half of you still couldn’t believe this was happening. No fucking way was Ji Changmin on top of you right now, dick compressed in your cunt to the hilt.
He holds your knee to your chest as he begins to thrust his hips, driving his cock deep from the get go. Each motion jostles you further up the sofa, but you’re too gone to care. Your eyes have started to roll to the back of your head and you already feel that pressure rising in the pit of your stomach.
At this rate, you’re not sure you’ll last very long. You’re still extremely sensitive from your first orgasm and Changmin’s plowing into you like he might never get the chance to do it again.
“You’re so— fuck— you’re so tight, baby… Squeezing me in like you don’t wanna let me go,” he rasps, trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and carrying them down your jugular.
You moan something about how deep he is, about how you can feel him everywhere. It’s too much. It’s not enough. And despite him giving you everything he has to offer, you crave more. You’re yearning for more.
Something in you snaps and you’re cradling his face in your hands. “Love you so much, Changmin. Wanna be with you forever.”
His eyes widen at your off-kilter confession, but he doesn’t cease once. If anything, his speed increases as he kisses you passionately, noses bumping but so far on the spectrum from the others. This one is more emotional, more meaningful. It’s not long before he’s spilling into you, moaning against your lips. You follow closely behind, your second orgasm cresting like a tidal wave.
You stay like that for a minute, both of you soaking it all in. Your chests meet in the middle with each breath you take.
Changmin pulls out of you carefully, laying so you can rest comfortably on top of him. A smile inches across his feature, like he was on the inside of a joke you weren’t. You raise an eyebrow at him.
“What…”
“Nothing, it’s just,” he brushes some of your hair from your forehead to leave a smooch there. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you how I felt for a while now. I just wanted to assure that you wouldn’t scream in my face and run the opposite direction. But you went ahead and beat me to it.”
“You meant what you said about the other girls?” You nibble at the skin of your cheek, nervous. “You slept with them to distract yourself from me? Even Iseul?”
He nods, albeit a little shamefully. “Not my proudest moment, I’ll say. I could’ve gone about it a million other ways. But yeah, I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you just because I couldn’t get my feelings in check.”
“You’re stupid,” you laugh, cuddling further into him. “It’s a good thing I’m kind of into that.”
“Kind of?” He quirks a brow at you. “I don’t know, you were saying something about loving me so much and wanting to be with me forever earlier…”
You smack his chest playfully. “Shut up. That was a moment of weakness or whatever.”
“It’s okay,” he smiles at you fondly, as if you were the reason that the sun shone so brightly. “I love you, too. And I wouldn’t mind being with you forever.”
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