#wish i had space for an actual massage chair though but this will have to do…

[deus-ex-mona]

“i’m all alone, but i’m as happy as can be!”

#aka top 10 things i wish i could drill into my coworkers brains grrrrrrrrrrrrrrnrhrhbgbgbfbfbfnf #‘you should get a bf’ ‘when are you gonna get married and have kids?’ how about n e v e r #i just want to sleep when i’m not on the clock mans i don’t want to waste my precious sleep time on others #i mean. i don’t even leave the house on my days off. not to go shopping or anything bc sleep is more important~~~ #and stuff can be bought online anyways s o o o o o #g o d speaking of online purchases thoughhh this massage seat i bought online came in yesterday and it works amazingly well~~~~~ #used it for half an hour last night and i was relaxed enough to sleep for 11-12 hours straight #wish i had space for an actual massage chair though but this will have to do… #it’s been my dream to own a massage chair for the longest time…… but ig this massage seat is good enough…… #i can just slap it onto my desk chair and b a m ✨instant paradise✨ #speaking of instant though… one of my coworkers was commenting on my love for instant noodles the other day #‘you’ll ✨d i e✨ faster if you eat a lot of cup noodles yk?’ he said #so ✨o f c✨ my mouth chose to work faster than my brain when i replied with ‘i’m fine with that bc i won’t have to work then’ #he and another coworker laughed :( sadded #b u t i finally had my cup noodles that i ‘customised’ at the cup noodle museum today and it was good~~~~~~~ i have good taste (self praise) #the best part was the lack of spring onions!!!! bc screw spring onions really who decided that they should be included with most cup noodles #or just noodles in general? the texture sucks and they don’t even taste good man. why would you even add spring onions? #it’s number 2 in my list of most hated food toppings. it loses only to ikan bilis bc s c r e w ikan bilis or dried anchovies or whatever #they’re known as >:( i hateeeeee how takeout places will just assume that you want ikan bilis and lop on a huuuuugeeeee serving of them #atop your food as you desperately and futilely b e g them to stop #and when you try to pick them out they just!!!! keep turning up everywhere instead????? #like hello???? how did you manage to get to the bottom of the bowl???? you were only added as a topping!!!!!!! #also. their eyes are really creepy. and the heads get detached from the bodies all the time and just. seeing the eyes ruins my appetite. #wait this was supposed to be about my coworkers and their pushiness in a matter that doesn’t concern them how did we get so far off-topic— #chizuutan chizpost

[sttoru]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒.

‘malaysia, ah. . . yeah, malaysia —kuantan would be nice.’

☀︎｜nanami kento x female reader. fluff (or is it?) + heavy angst. jjk spoilers (season 2, episode 18) / chapter 120. you’re married. mentions of blood. sad / bittersweet ending. major character death. don’t show your friends who stan nanami this, they might jump from a building <3

sunny weather with a gentle breeze and the sounds of the crashing waves eventually landing ashore. the peace and quiet that most long for.

“kento, you’ve been reading for a while now.”

ah, and the voice of his lovely wife whom he cherishes most. a perfect setting — a safe space for someone who doesn’t know what right or wrong is anymore. for someone who’s tired of the way the world is.

time seems frozen when you spend it with the one you love most. and when you spend it somewhere you wish to actually be.

kento looks up from his book, eyes meeting the alluring clear stretch of ocean and the blue sky that held no clouds. his gaze then falls back down on the page he had last read — or, perhaps it was the previous page that he had been reading. or maybe the one before that. or perhaps he hadn’t even started the story.

he doesn’t know anymore. the pile of books that laid next to the rocking chair were all but a beautiful mystery. he had opened them, read them over and over, yet not a single word had been remembered.

kento doesn’t remember.

“kento?” your voice calls out once more. the sorcerer tilts his head back to look up at the one calling. there you were, standing next to him, hands on his shoulders with a gentle smile on your face.

you looked angelic. you looked like all he wanted. all he needed — a perfect complete picture.

kento hums and simply nods in response before looking down at the unknown novel in his hands, “yes, sorry, darling. i got a bit too caught up in the book.”

typical him.

a calming sound of laughter leaves your lips and kento instantly relaxes his shoulders — which he didn’t even know were tense in the first place. as if on cue, your fingers move to massage the muscles.

kento closes his eyes and sighs. he doesn’t bother putting a bookmark between the pages before closing the hardback. not like he needs it if he couldn’t even recall what he had skimmed through.

his eyes move under his eyelids — almost like they’re searching for something under the darkness of the curtains that were casted. the only thing he was focusing on right now were the noises on the beach and your sweet voice.

kento furrows his brows; the sounds of the crashing waves had soon overwhelmed the soft sound of your voice. a moment of peace was disturbed by the loud waves—waves that sounded more aggressive than gentle like they were seconds ago.

waves that sounded like continuous slashes.

a droplet of something warm falls on his skin and his eyes flutter open.

the sea was still there. the beach was still there. the house he had bought was still there. but most importantly, you were still there. though, there was an undeniable change in the atmosphere.

“you’re having a nosebleed.”

your worried comment makes kento stare up at you in confusion. a nosebleed? the pad of his thumb grazes over his upper lip. and there it was; the crimson stain slowly flowing down his finger, “oh.”

kento remembers. he remembers everything clearly. the sudden calmness in his surroundings that were once hectic; why he couldn’t recall what he had read; why the sounds of the waves had changed into something more ominous as the moments passed.

the realisation dawns upon him — and it hit hard.

“i’m tired. i really am tired.” the sorcerer mutters at last. his body was exhausted. his eyes were droopy. things were beginning to fade. the realisation was beginning to kick in. the effects of the hallucinations was starting to wear off.

he gazes at you one more time. his weak hand reaches out to yours and he interlocks your fingers. it pained him to see your eyes filled with sorrow and worry. even if you were but a fraction of his imagination.

maybe that’s how you actually are sitting on the couch in your shared home. maybe you are waiting on him to come back to you.

kento wouldn’t blame you if you did. he did promise that he’d be back, as did he do every other day. and he did come back as promised each time.

well, except for today.

“i didn’t know you were here.” the blonde sorcerer’s hoarse voice calls out once his peaceful surroundings had disappeared into thin air.

malaysia, kuantan — the beach — you. all but a nice dream. perhaps an alternative reality which he wished he could be in right this moment.

“yup. the whole time.”

kento looks down at the familiar face. the blue-haired executioner who was on the brink of finishing his lifetime once and for all.

one last sigh leaves kento’s lips; his life flashing before his eyes. both his regrets and satisfactions—his achievements and hopes.

and lastly, the moment of peace he had experienced before his time was over. you had helped him until the very end — giving him the peace he much needed during his suffering. a dream in the form of all he wished to have; of you.

the dream was a sweet replica of what could have been. but unfortunately, human dreams must always come to an end — and reality is what must be faced once they do.

that’s the way it is.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fic #jjk angst #jjk fic #jjk spoilers

[theninjasanctuary]

I'm still getting Tumblr glitches, as in, the end-of-year post I saved in drafts is nowhere to be found in the browser version, which is where I wrote and saved it, but is there on the app. Ehh.

Well, this one did not feel like a year where anything significant happened. Which I suppose is a way of saying I've had a decent enough year? As in, the world continues to burn, but I don't recall anything officially bad happening to me, despite all the whining and strong language I did in my posts. Nobody died, I'm gainfully employed and mostly bamboozling people that I can keep up. Looking at what I wrote to summarize the previous year, this one's been a breeze. Even though when I re-read what I've been posting this year - and I don't actually remember half of it -, it seems at least in the winter and spring, I wasn't having a great time between sleep deprivation, money woes and raising a sweet, but messy and needy cat; and from the summer onwards have not updated much at all, always complaining about stress. Well, for one thing, it is obvious I should reduce time spent on Reddit so there's more of it for everything else...

In no particular order: this was surely a better year from the health perspective. The last time I was ill was an annoying cold in early-to-mid February, where I actually needed antibiotics again because I tested positive for lung chlamydia, and have been generally just fine ever since, a welcome break after all the ailments 2022 threw at me. The achy wrist is still there and annoying, but I'm hoping it is fixable with the new treatment plan. And the toe I stubbed really bad in early September is still not a pretty sight, but in early December I finally started seeing a healthy pink regrowth emerge from under the cuticle, so the purple bruised part might finally be gone by, idk, April?

Could have used more exercise, as always, but I kept up with massage therapy and tried to keep up with physio appointments at least (there were some unintended breaks). And I've made some improvements about keeping my cholesterol level in check, and feel good about the new GP.

The cat is indeed no longer a kitten, but has grown into a fine adult, he's 1,5 years old now, weighs close to 6 kilos and is a pretty, floofy, bright boy with a friendly, curious personality. It has been expensive (getting all.the.things from zero, plus medical costs, plus food), and takes up loads of time, he nearly always delays bedtime so I lose sleep, and I've had to wash all the rugs, even replacing one with one that's easier to clean, because he either puked on them (his tummy is a bit sensitive apparently), or used the texture to scoot dingleberries off his floofy butt. Ehh. I'm now a lot less squeamish about cat poop, and since we are trying to keep his butt hair at least somewhat trimmed (despite resistance), there are fewer accidents, and he's learned to tolerate the occasional butt showers without clawing.

He's also grown less bitey when playing, and is still positive and confident, not holding any grudges. His favourite treat is freshly boiled egg (quail or chicken will both do, and he likes his portion slightly warm). He does not enjoy getting brushed all that much, but we keep a Furminator handy for quick swipes, because otherwise every damn thing is covered with cat hair, and the floors develop hefty, dark grey dust bunnies. Beyond demanding before-bedtime treats and play, he mostly lets us sleep without interrupting, as he's not particularly food-motivated, just gets impatient waiting for his morning cuddles sometimes. He only slept in our bed for a few weeks as a baby, initially between our pillows, then moved towards the end of the bed, but then decided he needs more space, and now sleeps where he feels like - sometimes on a chair in our room, sometimes under the bed, sometimes in whichever comfy spot elsewhere he prefers that night. I sometimes wish he was more of a snuggler, tbh, since he's so nice and soft with big plushie vibes. He does come asking that I pick him up for a cuddle and purr session when I get out of bed, or come home from wherever I've been, or sometimes before bedtime as well, and occasionally he'll have a cuddly kind of mood all day long, but overall, he's not a lap cat. Still, I lift and carry him around often enough that it might be contributing to my wrist issues. (Typical De Quervain's syndrome sufferers are mothers with young children.)

Work-wise, I've been feeling like a failure all year, despite actually getting at least some things done by winging it, and I feel I've been growing and learning with the new tasks I've had. Even so though, there's loads of guilt and stress, and I've often struggled with an irrational urge to avoid looking at my emails. It's not even that the workload is that much, it all boils down to my inability to focus. And I still haven't gotten any professional help with that, because my ability to go looking is limited (because I'm busy either stressing about work or procrastinating). And I still haven't seen an optometrist either, despite it being on the to-do-list since spring.

Can't say I've kept up on the home front that great either. My cleaning standards are slipping, particularly when it comes to dusting. There are just way too many things. And the inability to focus bleeds over to chores, things take way too long to get done or are delayed endlessly. I wish I could fix this. OTL

I keep procrastinating by browsing second-hand stores a lot. Made a switch to Sellpy as the first choice this year, since Momox changed their pricing policy and now Sellpy has the better deals as well as cheaper and easier shipping/returns, despite never having discount codes like Momox does. As for the score of items purchased, there were wins and losses, I did manage to get a few stellar items I wear a lot, but also returned lots of complete duds, either things that unfortunately didn't fit, or things I should not have expected to work in the first place, I guess. And I certainly kept a few items I don't use as much... if ever, as remains to be seen.

I see it would be better to tone this habit down to save both time and money, but since the shopping urges are at least partly hormonal, I cannot count on consistently making rational decisions. At least I'm not experimenting much with skincare at this point, mostly sticking to repurchasing staples. It still gets a bit expensive even so, and it has to be said that I've had an annoying amount of acne and picking issues this year despite keeping up with an elaborate skincare routine. All of this to be filed under *shit I still don't know how to fix*.

The travelling I managed this year was pretty nice in hindsight, a week in France at the end of January, then another in mid-August, then a weekend trip to Brussels, and an overnight in Helsinki to see a great live. I wish I could do more of this without financial stress, and worrying about leaving the cat (he's not taking separation super-hard, but still). The trip to Japan with friends we could not afford to take was a bit of a shitshow, btw: scorching temperatures, then a typhoon and then return flight cancellation, so stuck at the airport for 2 days before eventually getting rerouted.

Socializing: I think I did better than last year in this respect, I finally was in the mood for, and had the opportunity to throw a proper birthday garden party for myself, which was lovely. Additional meet-ups happened too, even if it would have been fun to have more. And having the cool coworker back at the office has been good, as expected. Now if I'd manage to actually get work done in reasonable hours, and feel good enough about my work output to warrant taking the time for fun, including hanging out with people, it would be even better.

Family: things are good with the boyf and most of the family, but I am stressed about big brother, his wife, and mom's will. Idk how any of this will be resolved. Ideally, I'd just buy the things I want from mom before inheritance ever becomes an issue, thus preventing any dividing issues, but I'd need to win the lottery beforehand...

I managed to do more gardening at mom's over the summer, which was rather nice. The summer wasn't as stressful climate-wise as feared, it was very dry in June, but enough rain from there onwards, and not too hot (I didn't get round to buying a mobile air conditioner nor heat-reflecting blinds, nor Birkenstocks, so this was very welcome). Still sad about losing a major feature of the entire garden, the big maple tree. Hoping to plant a replacement in the spring.

My aims for the next year involve being more responsible about money. It would be ridiculous to end up short on funds again when I'll be earning more than ever. The plan is to put more into the index fund retirement scheme, and I've started an automatic saving scheme as well (it rounds up all the card payments to 1 € up + I've added a monthly lump payment). I do hope to finally calm down about wardrobe upgrades, since I already have so much fabulous, joy-sparking stuff, and instead improve fitness a bit, so things will look better on me. I should definitely get more exercise anyway, and get some sort of a cheapish sports watch might be good. And I need to eat less sugar, and it would be good to get back to 8/16.

It also looks like 2024 will be one of the hardest work years of my life, and I have to manage to pull it all off for things to be easier in the future. It would be good if I just read books in my downtime instead of procrastinating on social media. Work guilt has meant very little reading just for fun this year, and that's not the kind of person I want to be.

As for what to look forward to, I will travel to France again in a few weeks, and probably to New York in June.

[tommyspeakycap]

andy robertson with your new baby?? seems like. an ADORABLE dad and you write the cuuutessttt fics so just anything with andy and your new baby girl would be so so so adorable pls and thank uuuu

baby girl

“Shh, shhh,” Andy coos softly at his tiny little brand new baby girl. The little pink bundle of warmth and love was making the beginning of some unhappy cries. The shirtless new father bends over to carefully scoop his two week old newborn baby to cradle gently against him. “Mama’s sleeping,” he whispers quietly as he begins to bounce ever so slightly with a sway to help calm her. “Oh aren’t so you bloody adorable.” He mumbles, his smile so huge it actually hurts his cheeks. “And got your mummies pretty eyes. Lucky you.” He chuckles, brushing a soft finger over her even softer cheek.

“Got your nose, though.” Your voice adds, thick with sleep. Andy sniggers, “Mama is not sleeping.” He corrects before he turns around to face you standing there, beaming tiredly at him. “You okay?” He asks you sweetly. You shrug your heavy shoulders with a sigh. “Sore boobs.”

Andy grimaces, furrowing his brows. He wishes there was some way that he could help you with all of these things that he just had no ability to actually help with. He can’t make your stitches ache any less, cant stop your boobs from burning and certainly can’t do anything about the fact your daughter is a very hungry little thing. The only thing he can do is make sure he’s awake at every possible opportunity to take her when you’re sleeping while he’s got the time to do so.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “Is there anything I can do?”

You shake your head, smiling softly as you walk over to them. “You could massage them for me?” You tease, wagging your eyebrows in a tiredly suggestive manner that makes Andy laugh and then hum softly. “I could do that.” He winks, closing the space to press his lips gently against yours. A little coo sounds from between you, though, making you both smile and break the kiss. “Nah, just need to feed her.” You shrug. Andy nods, passing her over into your arms.

While you take a seat down on that rocking chair to breastfeed your daughter, Andy leans against the chest of drawers that her changing table is on top of. The new father crosses his arms over his chest, smiling as he just watches you. It’s the most mesmerising thing that he’s ever counted himself lucky enough to witness. “You’re staring.” You note sweetly, raising your eyebrows and tilting your head at him. Andy simply shrugs and smiles even bigger.

“I just love you.”

~~

“This is Hampden Park.” Andy begins, walking out to the empty pitch in the middle of the stadium. “It’s where our national team plays. Daddy captains the side, can you believe that?” He gasps soft, smiling at his tiny baby daughter as she simply stares up at him with her big eyes that look so much like yours. “Yeah, me neither.” He laughs.

Andy looks around the empty stadium, spotting and maybe more laughably hearing John McGinn at the coming out of the tunnel to start stretching with Kieran. “That’s your uncle John singing, unfortunately. He’s funny though, i think you’ll love him but certainly not for his singing ability." He notes softly. John rolls his eyes as he walks up to the Scotland captain, taking this opportunity to get a good look at his newborn daughter. "She's gorgeous," John smiles, not even looking up at Andy as he follows his his prior statement, "Complete opposite of you mate, thank god for that."

That gave Andy his turn to roll his eyes, scoffing at the tease from probably his funniest teammate who laughs as he jogs off to go warmup with the rest of the guys who were now emerging from the tunnel.

"You are gorgeous." Andy says sweetly to his daughter, "Just like your beautiful mama, yes you are, yes you are." He babbles in his baby voice before he presses a gentle kiss to her soft forehead. “I hope you love it here as much as i do.” He adds, bouncing gently as he walks around so she remains as calm and quiet as she has since he brought her out here. You’re watching him from the side of the pitch, sitting with the other wives and girlfriends but you’re not focussing or listening to a word they’ve said. It’s impossible to take your eyes off of Andy and your daughter. He looks so content, so precious walking around talking to her. It’s so beautifully obvious how much he loves her and it’s the same way that everybody can also see how much he loves you.

“And one day,” Andy coos to that sweet, brand new baby girl, “If you want, you’re gonna lead out the woman’s team here and then you’re gonna lift the world cup trophy and i’m going to be right there-” He pauses to point out to the best seats, right where you are sitting. “Front and centre with your mama cheering you on eh? Doesn’t matter what you do, sweetheart. Daddy is always going to be right here cheering you on ‘cause you’re my baby girl and i love you so so so much.” He kisses her head again, looking at her like she’s the most precious thing in the world and truly, she is. She’s his perfect little baby girl. She looks just like you and makes his heart hurt from happiness just like you do. She is literally perfect.

“And you’re gonna be good for your mummy?” He muses, smiling at you as he walks towards where you standing now by the barricade waiting to take her back so he can go and warmup. “She needs her rest,” he says quietly, stopping a few feet away so he can look as though he’s just giving her a little kiss on his cheek when he actually tilts his head down so he can undetectable whisper, “has to be in a good mood when i ask her to marry me.”

His baby daughter just looks up at him with eyes wide in wonderment, very much like the way Andy looks at you. Seeing you as a mother, just getting to be part of witnessing the way you love her is more beautiful than he could ever have imagined and as Andy passes the nearly sleeping baby over to you, seeing the way your eyes light up and the pure joy in the way you kiss him before he leaves to warm up, he knows he’s more than ready to make you his wife.

#andy robertson x reader #andy robertson imagine #andy robertson imagines #footie fics #football fics #footballer fics #football imagines #footballer imagines

[buckyownsmylife]

It’s always shoot to kill - Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers smut

The one where Steve wants to watch Bucky fucking you, knowing that he’ll never be able to do it again

Warnings: dubcon in double instance, neither the reader or Bucky are completely on board with this, p in v, oral sex (f), lots of pining from Bucky, jealousy and possessiveness from Steve, voyeurism, kind of cuckolding too

A/N: I’d like to thank the amazing @angrybirdcr​ for reading this and giving me suggestions to make the story better for y’all! I had the best time brainstorming with Marie and I’m so happy I get to call her a friend now! To see more of the dynamic between those three, check out the other one-shots I have about them!

Steve’s P.O.V.

“Take off all your clothes, I don’t want him undressing you.” She looked hesitant again, the pretty little flower. Kinda like that day, so many months ago, when I dragged Bucky to watch us fucking so he would stop pining for her.

It didn’t work. I still caught him looking at her with wishful eyes, whenever he thought I was too busy to notice. 

I always noticed it. I always did, because my mind, my heart and my gaze seemed to follow her, regardless of how important any of my royal tasks could be. A part of me was always with her, and that part didn’t like that James obviously felt for her the same way that I did.

So I devised a plan. If forcing him to watch me fuck her wasn’t enough, maybe I could let him do it once, just once. That way, maybe, his infatuation would disappear, but even if it didn’t, knowing what it was like to have her and never be able to do it again would certainly kill him inside.

“Now, pretend I’m not even here,” I said, letting myself fall back against the same chair my brother had occupied that night, so many months ago. There was something particularly interesting about being in this position, watching someone that gave me so much jealousy at last have his way with my woman.

It felt almost freeing, somehow. Seeing my worst nightmare play out, knowing I was in control of it. Knowing it was only happening because of me, and I could put an end to it at any time.

I watched as Bucky seemed to hesitate, like he didn’t know where to start, or didn’t actually believe he could reach out and touch her. She seemed just as hesitant, fidgeting under his stare as she fought against the instinct to cover her own body.

“Go on,” I directed, waving towards her. “Tell her how she looks. Do I really have to teach you how to treat a lady?” His jaw clenched at that, clearly offended at my insinuation. “You’ve been wondering what she hides under those dresses all this time. There she is. At least look at her properly.”

I watched as he slowly came to terms with the reality of the situation. His posture changed, he stood up straighter, and now the way he towered over my wife almost seemed threatening.

He started from her feet, eyes slowly traveling up, briefly stopping on her breasts before they reached her face. “You’re so beautiful.” Words so simple, I’d said them thousands of times before. But hearing them now, coming from another pair of lips, had me gripping the arms of my chair.

I didn’t like the way he looked at her. Like she was something precious, something breakable. I knew she wasn’t - I’d been rough with her before and all she ever did was cry out in ecstasy.

She nodded once, like she didn’t know how to respond, eyes unwilling to leave his when he reached out to hold her jaw, but then she averted her gaze in an almost embarrassed manner, suddenly remembering what to say. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

It almost had me chuckling, if it weren’t for how his hand slowly dropped down, caressing the skin as it went. I watched as it ran over her collarbones before his finger rubbed on a nipple. I saw how she trembled but still tried to control her reactions.

He was hypnotized by then. I knew it, it was obvious by the darkness that had taken over his usually blue hues and the way he licked his lips before he leaned down and used them to engulf one of my wife’s nipples.

Instinctively, she offered her chest to him but tried to keep her gasp of surprise or desire in. Such a good little wife. My perfect queen.

She went willingly when he pushed her down on the bed, eyes burning with passion as he took in the image before him. “Did you ever think you’d have her spread out for you like that?” My voice resonated through the room, but instead of breaking him from his reverie, he didn’t seem to mind it at all. It was like all that mattered to him was her.

Still, he answered me. “No.” There was so much emotion in that simple word, so much hidden just underneath the surface, it had me readjusting myself in the chair, almost considering leaping across the room and prying him away from her.

But then he fell to his knees before her. “My queen,” he said, looking up from under his eyelashes. “Can I be so lucky as to taste you?” A pang of desire ran through my body as I watched her stutter out an acceptance.

And then he was between her thighs. I couldn’t see him through the barrier of her legs, but their sounds and movements told the story of what he was doing. Bringing pleasure to my love.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t know what to do. How should I behave? At the first touch of James’ tongue on my lower lips, a strangled gasp escaped me, and my hands flew up to find some sort of support on the sheets behind me. God, this was torture, even if I wasn’t the one who was being punished.

I almost closed my eyes to relish in the pleasure I was feeling. His touch was so different from Steve’s - softer and slower, even though there was desperation there.

But then I remembered what was actually happening and I snapped them open, turning my head to look at my husband’s watchful gaze. Unsurprisingly, I found him staring at us with those piercing eyes, his attention never wavering from James and me, but what was astounding was that he didn’t look angry or possessive.

Not at all. There was not an ounce of irritation in his beautiful features, just clear focus as he watched me unfold before his eyes, by the hands of his brother, that now roamed my body.

“Put her on top,” came his voice, clear as day and startling the man between my legs, who seemed to have forgotten about our audience. His head whipped up to see how I felt about my husband’s order, and that’s when I saw it.

His attentive blue eyes, usually so clear, had become dark as night. It was like he was a different person altogether. I could no longer recognize the sweet and caring man I’d once called my best friend…

… but then again, it’d been so long since I’d been close to him in any way.

“What are you waiting for?” My husband’s voice broke me out of my shock, but before I could fully recover, two strong hands had found a new resting spot on my hips as James easily manhandled me into a new position - on my hands and knees, over him.

The weight of his cock, fully erect against the inside of my thigh, sent a thrill through me that I had never anticipated feeling in his hands.

“Go on.” It was like he was waiting for the order because just as soon as Steve’s words disappeared in the air between us, he aligned his member and started to force me down on it. A gasp escaped me, and I had to hold myself against his chest to keep myself up.

Having James inside of me was a completely different experience than when Steve made love to me. Where Steve was long, James was thicker, stretching me in a way I’d never experienced before.

After the first plunge, it was clear that the man inside of me got carried away. He controlled my movements with iron fingers that pressed my flesh so tightly I was sure it’d be hurting for days after.

I could say the same about my insides. He didn’t show any mercy - in fact, I barely even recognized him and this animalistic side he was exposing as he fucked me, eyes keeping my own gaze captive as he grunted and panted underneath me like a man on a mission, if that mission was to ruin me.

“I want to hear you declare your love for her,” came Steve’s voice once again, breaking me out of whatever hypnosis James was performing. “Tell her everything. This is the only time you’ll be able to say how you really feel.”

The pain in his blue eyes was overwhelming. I felt tears rise up in my own eyes, threatening to spill and fall on his face, showing him just how confused I was about this entire situation.

Just who was Steve trying to hurt here?

“I-I’ve always wanted this. You have no idea just how much.” And in the way his voice cracked, I saw it. I saw just how badly he’d craved me, how hard he had tried to hold back from me.

“No one can ever come close to the space I’ve relinquished to you in my heart,” he said, barely over a whisper, and yet I felt like he shouted it at me, the way his hips rose growing quicker and rougher, and I bounced in his arms as he rammed into me. “And it will always be yours,” he assured me, prompting the tears to fall from my eyes, slowly trailing down my cheeks. “My heart will forever belong to you.”

I covered my hand as a sob almost escaped me, but maybe it was a moan, I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that he kept fucking up into me and I couldn’t hold it in much longer, couldn’t pretend I didn’t feel anything while my best friend was inside of me.

But when my moans broke free, my husband didn’t seem to mind. He actually leaned closer, resting his elbows on his thighs as he ordered, “She can get louder. Do it properly.”

And suddenly my world turned upside down because in a simple movement I was the one on the bed and James was hovering over me, never leaving my tight channel. His fingers found my nub, and he massaged it with an eagerness that showed me he wanted me to cum just as badly as I did.

“Cum for him, my queen. Show him how beautiful you are when you’re reaching your high.” It was Steve’s order that brought me to my release, my hands flying up to find a hold on James’ shoulder as I struggled to breathe or even think.

It felt like I was falling from the highest mountain without ever actually touching the ground. When I finally managed to focus again, it was through slowly realizing the way James’ cock was still dragging against my walls. 

I opened my eyes to find him with eyebrows furrowed and sweat sticking strands of his hair on his forehead, his arms trembling on each side of my head. He was desperately trying to hold on just a little longer, and that broke my heart.

I couldn’t close my eyes as he slowly but surely lost the battle against his body, hips quickening before they stopped altogether, and just before he pulled away, he whispered, “I love you,” giving me one last, chaste kiss on the lips.

I could still taste myself in them.

Steve’s stare was heavy on us as James slowly dressed. I wondered what was going on in my husband’s head. Did he think his plan had worked or had he realized it was a mistake all along?

It seemed like the King’s mind still hadn’t been made, as he stopped his brother just before he could leave. “Are you still in love with her?”

James let the question sit on each of our hearts and minds before he gave his answer. “Now more than ever.”

I couldn’t help but notice that he was still hard when my husband kicked him out of the room before turning around to see me, wrecked and dirty, all thanks to another man’s work.

“I hope you’re ready,” he warned, and I already knew I wasn’t. “I can’t wait to fuck his sloppy seconds.”

#my fics #bucky barnes smut #smut #bucky barnes #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #royal au #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #steve rogers reader insert #bucky barnes reader #steve rogers reader

[akumaalert]

not a request just sharing bc i couldn't stop thinking of just "what if lucky called heis good boy" like how he calls her good girl sometimes but like.. i'm pretty sure he would break

This was supposed to be a mini-fic....but...uh....it'll likely be the first chapter of "Divergence" instead LMAO But hope you enjoy!

Good Boy

Karl Heisenberg x Reader, Explicit

CW: Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Happy Ending, Virgin!Karl Heisenberg

An AU happening during chapter 19 of "Heavy Metal Lover" but can be read without reading the main story.

"Unfh..."

That had been the first noise from Lucky besides the scratch of a pencil against paper that he had heard in about an hour.

Stuck in his office with her as he searched for a misplaced - not lost, just misplaced! - core schematic, Heisenberg tried to ignore the nagging thought of how domestic the space had become. Lucky never moved his things - something he was infinitely grateful for. He could recall too well his ever boiling frustration at having his room "cleaned" when living in the castle. The maids were well-meaning, but always adjusting. The room he had held would have felt more his own had he been able to move his own furniture around without the chambermaids fawning over him.

"No, no, young Lord Heisenberg! This is all wrong...off you go...go play...we will fix this mess."

Now on his own and in his element of chaos, he felt comforted, even if secretly so, that Lucky never seemed to complain.

Comforted...but cautious.

The day at the stronghold seemed stamped into his memory...right in the front for all to see. It remained a wonder Lucky didn't see it on his face.

The knowledge.

The horrible, horrible knowledge.

Love.

Staring at an old newspaper clip-out that he had saved with a picture of a modern car on its faded pages, he absently pushed the glasses back up his nose.

It tired him - the constant need to flip back and forth between acknowledging his feelings and thrusting them as far down as he could manage. Drowning them out with that beautiful sound of cinching machinery. Allowing them to seep into him with every laugh from her lips.

Heisenberg was starting to fall in love with the woman. The woman he had failed to kill - the lucky one to survive his maze. The woman his mother expected him to impregnate in order for Miranda's mad vessel to be born and to be killed all in the name of misery.

Misery otherwise known as Eva.

Slowly but certainly, Lucky was driving him insane. Reminding him of things he could never, ever have. Teasing him over and over for days on end.

Heisenberg remembered all too well his reason for entering the office. He had nearly sliced his own arm clean off his shoulder when he lost himself to his situation. To the possibility that, despite his body being so ill-suited for the task, Lucky could have his child. Would want his child. His thoughts, as they so often did, snapped back to the need for freedom - for the need for the arms to come loose from his latest corpse to transform them into one of his many soldiers.

But the more he thought of freedom, the more she sat in the background of his mind.

The more she sat there, the more his tired musings began to stitch together.

The more freedom and Lucky - the two dreams of his world - became intertwined.

He had been thinking of her - of Lucky - beside him the day that he won freedom from the village.

Won freedom...and her.

"You did it, Heis! You did it!"

Lucky would never know how dear it was to him...the fact that her emotions ran so freely with her very being. Beaming. She would do nothing less than beam at him. Her eyes would glow and crinkle at their tails as they did when she gave him her most genuine smiles.

"You did it. You're free. Our...our family is free."

"...family?"

She would grab his hand. Just one. He needed the other steady on her cheek.

Lucky would bring that hand clasped in her own to her belly.

"Our family..."

"Our...another...another Heisenberg?"

In his dreams, she shyly escaped his gaze to nod.

"You...you haven't been alone. Not with me. Not with the start of our family. But now...now, Heis..." Her eyes popped back up all soft and sincere. "Now you'll never be alone again. Not with our baby Heisenberg on the way..."

The only break from his reverie was the slice to one of his favorite stained t-shirts. Only the fact that it was Heisenberg's powers directing the saw had it falling to the floor instead of through his tensed skin.

Heisenberg could only stand in shocked silence. The arm that had been spared from the violence came to grab his shoulder. Though no injury had occurred, he felt stabbed all the same.

Family...and joy?

Lucky...with him?

Another Heisenberg...alive?

A thought washed over him like ice entering his veins.

A boy or a girl...would we have a boy or a girl first?

First.

As if Lucky wished to be objected to more of his perverted and preposterous daydreams.

When he left the room, the metal was still shaking.

"Gotta get that fucking schematic...keep forgetting it...keep going to the office and...fuck...keep talking to her. Gotta stop fucking talking to her. Schematic. Get the fucking schematic."

Lucky had been asleep in bed when he first entered. A rushing relief to his soul. But as the search for the schematic went from flipping through one file to frantically reshuffling the wayward stack the paper should have been in, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would appear.

"Oh...ah!" Lucky yawned all cute and squeaky. "Good morning, Heis."

"Morning," he said flatly. "You...you move any of these lately?"

"No," she said sleepily. "I don't touch those...way above my pay grade. What are you looking for?"

"Core schematic," he grumbled. "Not fucking here...where the hell did I put it?"

Though Lucky made a very pointless questioning noise, she said nothing as she sat down and began her daily transcriptions. Hell, he had been grateful. She showed concern because she was simply a good person beneath all of the trauma and the terror she had reigned on his self-image. But she didn't pry or attempt to enter his space afterward where she would clearly only be in the way.

But that was before her second moan filled the office.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, never looking up from his stack of papers.

A frustrated sigh and a grumble came from the desk chair.

"Think I slept on my neck funny last night," she said. "Doesn't help that my posture is shit. Just making it impossible to find a good angle to work in."

Growing agitated at his fruitless search, Heisenberg whipped around to look at her. "Want some help?"

"Mmn?"

"Want a massage or something?" he offered. "A...ha! You'll find this funny. Supersized one up in the castle? Used to love to make me massage her neck when I was a kid. Fucking manual labor when I was barely old enough to write. Had maids to do it - an assload at that - and forced me to instead."

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucky frowned. "Was it...did she...did she hurt you? Like...if you didn't do it?"

"Ah nah," he said, taking careful steps over to Lucky. "Told you...when I was a kid, I was off limits. I whine about it now...but...well...I was a kid. Bitch loves kids. So I had to massage her back...but only part of this stupid salon thing we used to do together. It was nothing. Stupid. Just like her."

He did not know what to make of Lucky's face. Tilting her head, she steadied a look on him that could only be called curious.

"It's...it's a good memory? Of Alcina when you were small?"

Heisenberg scoffed.

"It's a memory," he said, standing behind Lucky with a wide stance and an even wider stare at her neck. "Not good or bad...just...there. Now...where's it hurt, kid?"

Raising a hand, Lucky placed her fingers on a section of her neck before swirling her touch.

"Ah...there...like just this one spot, but fanning out..."

"Okay...looks like your C7."

"My what now?"

Chuckling, Heisenberg moved her hand out of the way. "Your C7 vertebrae. Duck your chin down so I can get in here properly."

Doing as she was told, Lucky's head moved forward and Heisenberg placed his gloved hands against her neck. His thumbs encased the pained area and began to move in slow yet sturdy circles.

Lucky immediately began squirming.

"Can you maybe try without the gloves?" she asked. "Those are like...rough or something."

Casting off his gloves quickly, Heisenberg rolled his shoulders before trying again. "Wah, wah, wah...doing you a favor and you're out here complaining. That better, your highness?"

"Yes, actually," she said, relaxing. "And thank you. Asshole."

Puffing air out of his mouth, Heisenberg merely shook his head as he kneaded her skin.

"Mmn!"

Heisenberg tried to hide his stillness by immediately starting to massage her skin again.

But the noise could not be ignored.

"What was that?"

"Your hands...they're so warm. Fuck...feels good."

"Oh..." he said dumbly. Blinking down at her, he turned his head away as he kept his fingers in motion.

The fact that his cock had begun to waken in his pants was not lost on him.

"Are you using your electric powers? Is that why it feels so good?"

"Nah...really shouldn't do that on the living above the waist."

Above the waist...but below the waist...

"Ah," he continued, running his teeth over the scar on his lower lip. "Cause of the heart or whatever. Probably your brain too from this angle. Could fry both without meaning to. And I was working...earlier. Probably why they feel hot."

Lucky sighed as he continued to work her neck. His fingers were sweeping but slow. He had started off so intently and so rough. What had happened?

I felt her skin. Felt her beneath me. Felt her neck...for all she knows I could snap it right now and instead of being afraid she's welcoming me...she trusts me...trusts me enough to let me do this...

The next round of his fingers on her neck dipped into skin purposeful in their worship.

Her response was immediate.

"Oh...oh...good boy," she whispered.

To say he was lost for words was like calling water wet.

Though he kept his massage in a rhythmic round, his eyes were wide as they could possibly be behind his glasses. So wide that they hurt.

What the hell did she just do to me?

If he had to go off of physical injury, he would say she punched him in the stomach with all the force of a train running at full speed.

If he had to go off of an attack to his psyche, he would say she wormed her way into some long buried and forgotten wire that sent his entire brain into overdrive.

If he had to go off the erection now straining against his paints, he would say that he was royally fucked.

"You really are so good at this," she said, her voice still breathless. "Good boy...my good boy, Heis."

Heisenberg snatched his hands away as if Lucky were lava.

"Wait! No...what's wrong?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him.

If she looks down...if she sees...

"GOTTA TAKE A SHIT!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Lucky's mouth dropped open as she gaped at him.

Then she nodded with a laugh playing at her lips.

"Yeah. Go. Just come back and finish your massage."

Before he could finish blinking, he found himself storming down the hallway.

Well...intending to storm. His gait was impacted a bit by his dick standing at full mast and his hands hurriedly attempting to unbuckle the straps around his pants.

So FUCKING dumb. A shit? Really? he thought, visibly grimacing. It would have probably been less embarrassing to admit I was about to jack it to her calling me hers.

Hers...her good boy...good...I'm her good boy...hahaha...

What am I? A fucking dog?

...don't answer that.

Rushing into the break room, he considered the couch before catching sight of the bathroom. With a flick of one wrist as his other hand pulled his cock from his underwear and pants, Heisenberg slammed open the bathroom door.

He managed to slide his pants down his legs as he sat on the toilet and closed the door with the weakest of hand movements.

Finally free from judgment, Heisenberg hissed as he fumbled his glasses to the nearby counter and took himself into his hand.

"Good boy...her good boy...fuck...fuck yeah I am, baby..."

A groan and a grunt fell from his lips as he jerked his hand along his shaft.

All too often this act had been nothing but release from tension. An exploration so technical and so tedious as to be boring. But now with Lucky at his side and in his bed - however platonically she slept there - the images that plagued him seemed vibrantly real and tempting in their joyful teasing.

Imaginings - hopes and dreams and fantasies - that he could only cling onto in the moment.

The desk.

He would take her right on that same desk she was taking notes on.

"Oh, Karl," she would say, despite not knowing his first name. "Gonna be my good boy?"

"Yes," he said aloud, eyes closing and mind prickling with sights of her and waves of pleasure.

Lucky would be splayed on his desk - lying on her back and presenting herself to him as if she were a meal to be consumed instead of a darling treasure to worship.

"That's good...only good boys are allowed to fuck me. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes...yes...god fucking damnit. YES." Huffing and hating the tremble in his thighs, Heisenberg bucked into his hand. "Yes...only me...wanna be your good boy. I'll be so good for you. Only you, Mein Schatz..."

A dirty laugh from her lips. The Lucky of his dreams becoming more and more defined as she palmed one breast and teased her clit with the fingers of her other hand.

"Mmm...know what you're saying you know...my treasure...that's so cute...been feeling the same way about you lately...thinking of you...dreaming of you...my good boy want to tell me what else he's been feeling? Mmn? Big boy wanna tell me before you put your cock inside of me?"

Lips loose along with his pleasure, Heisenberg found he could not build his voice to say the words aloud.

So he mouthed them instead. Mouthed them and stuttered in his quest for pleasure as his hand curled about his shaft at the "lah" tipping silently from his tongue.

"Oh, darling..." A smile. She'd smile. Genuine and sweet and sincere and all for him. "I love you too, Karl."

"Mmnnn....ah...fu-UCK!" With a panicked inhale, Heisenberg quickly pinched the head of his cock to prevent his end from coming too soon. "No, no, no...not yet...not yet...please..."

Though the pleasure was unlike anything he had previously experienced and his calves clenched in protest of a release delayed, his oncoming orgasm stalled and began to fade.

"Such a good boy," said Lucky, eyeing him in his fantasy like she would look at a drink of water on a hot day. "That's right. You don't come until I tell you to. Understand?"

A nod of his head.

"Good, good boy. My good boy. Good Karl. Come on...think it's time you got your treat...here...I'll help you..."

With her fingers moving to fully expose the inside of that wet and preciously pink pussy of hers, Lucky looked up at him with a lidded look.

Heisenberg had no experience with another person when it came to handling his physical pleasure. Hell, with any pleasure or positive feeling at all. Except maybe the triumph of victory over others, he had never had the chance to experience happiness - true happiness and trust and faith in another soul.

Until her.

And for her...for her he would indulge and give himself freely...if only locked away inside of his mind.

Inexperience taking a back seat to passion, he pictured himself guiding his cock into her waiting and welcoming body. Maybe he would steady himself with a hand on her hip or simply with a heated stare into her eyes.

He all but strangled his cock to try to mimic a feeling he had never known and had never thought to miss before her.

"Uh-huh," whined Lucky in his dreams. "Oh...you're so big...fill me up just right. So fucking thick..."

"Hah...ah...your good boy big enough for you?"

"Yes...oh yes...yes...so big...such a perfect dick...please...please Karl...Heis...please, baby, please...Heis?"

When he began to rut into his own hand with a purpose, he felt flames like that of standing directly beside the blaring crucible dancing across his cheeks. Though some of his daydream seemed vague and hard to read, he had enough to know that he could not delay the inevitable for much longer. Lucky - the real and actual Lucky - was still waiting for him back in the office. Waiting and none the wiser to his desperate need for her affection. It sickened him - the want for anything and everything to do with her.

Sickened him...and sent electric shocks of white pleasure down his spine.

"So fucking perfect...you're so fucking perfect for me, Lucky...oh..."

"Heis..."

"Huh...ah...already so close...so damn worked up...can't stand it...can't stand you looking like that..."

"Like what?"

Heaving and heatedly squirming where he sat, Heisenberg noticed for the first time that one of his boots jutted up and down on the floor beneath him. As if his entire body refused to be still.

"Most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," he bit out. "Please...please, Luck...I know it's soon...but please..."

A tilted head and a gentle grin. A pointer finger that danced around her clit and drew his eyes away only long enough for her to breathe out shallow and short. His eyes snapped back to hers immediately.

"Please what?"

"Please let me come...let me come inside you...wanna...wanna take you...claim you...don't want you with anyone else ever again."

Glinting eyes and lush eyelashes.

"You're gonna be all that to me, Heis? Well...in that case..."

Her lips finding his own. His very first kiss - albeit imaginary. Her lips soft but without taste. His own lips puckering even as they trembled from the need for more.

"In that case," she continued, taunting him in his ear. "Come, Heis. Be a good boy and come for me."

Hindsight would have him chastising himself for not thinking to grab some tissue. In the moment, however, he was too busy panting and watching his cum dot the floor in thick strips. Heisenberg growled...tried to hold on to the image of her with one eye still closed.

Reality settled in on him. Settled in even as his stomach quivered underneath his shirt and his orgasm began to relax into his bones. It was pleasant and his every nerve seemed to stand on edge. Tingles of pleasure radiated from his chest to his feet flat against the floor. Gulping in air, he knew he had never come so hard before in his life. It was good...great even.

But it was not her. It was not enough.

Clean up was a quick and tedious affair. Lucky could not know what he had done in her quarters. The tissues he found too late to wipe his seed from the floor were tossed and flushed away. He checked the room once and then again once his shades were back on his face.

Finishing the belt at the top of his pants, he cleared his throat before exiting.

The television in the break room still hummed though it sat completely dead in the meager light from the ceiling.

Shit...glad she wasn't in here. Never had anyone here to care about when I got down to business...no telling what my powers do with electronics...

The schematic. He had to find that damn schematic.

Trying to level his breathing as he stalked the hallway, Heisenberg considered the day before him. Lucky had not wished to attend a revitalization attempt with him yet. While he didn't intend to push her into seeing something that might scar her again, it might be worthwhile to have her eyes in the room at some point. She hadn't complained about the notes yet. Maybe he should offer? Make it sound like a small deal and let her in when it was near completion? Give her a taste before exposing her to more?

Fucking stupid...it's all so fucking stupid...what happened to me? If she were any assistant, I would just drag her ass there and have her record the whole thing. Fuck me with all this concerned shit.

But she's not just any assistant...

Entering the office, he stilled at the doorway when he saw Lucky facing him from her chair.

"Uh...hey," he said, licking his lips. "Sorry about that. Took...ah...let's just forget it."

"Actually," she began. "I need to be honest with you. Because of what happened before..."

Eyebrows shooting up, he stood in silence before she continued.

"Um...so...I was sitting here...sitting here and trying to rub my neck or whatever..."

"Yes?"

"Well...the radio came on and it freaked me out a little bit..." She paused, her fidgety look dropping to the floor. "But...the more I listened...the more I...recognized your voice."

"My...my voice?"

"Yes."

Heisenberg could not move. He shouldn't be looking at her, but he was afraid if he blinked that the tension would break and she would begin laughing or cursing or, worst of all, apologizing.

"Umm...it...I heard you. And I guess you were...I guess it was real time." A tent of her fingers and a swallow in her throat. "I heard your comment and responded and...I think...I think you could hear me too. Possibly? You seemed to...seemed to be replying to what I said directly."

Shame. Shame for a million years fell on his shoulders that had felt so light before.

"Where?" he managed to say. "Where did you come in? What comment did you respond to?"

How she looked at him, he had no idea. She was far braver than he could ever be. Heisenberg planned to face down Miranda without a single hesitation one day on that glorious battlefield where his freedom could be won.

But now? Faced with Lucky standing and walking toward him with the full weight of her eyes upon him?

He looked away.

"You said...you asked me if my good boy was big enough for me."

The purr in her voice. The sound of her steps growing closer. The burn in his throat.

"After that," she said. "I called your name...I...responded to you and you to me."

"That didn't...I..." He shook his head. "I...umm..."

"Can I hold your hand?"

Head shooting up, Heisenberg caught her heated look. The same heated look she had worn in his dreams.

He nodded. Nodded even though he barely registered it until she took his hand and steps to press herself flush against him.

When she spoke, it was hushed and low.

For him and him only.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom...freshen up. Since we know you can communicate from the radio to the television...I want you to tell me when it's okay to come back here. I'm giving you two options."

Heisenberg hung on her every word and looked at her as if she controlled his every movement.

"The first...you can leave. Can give me enough time to go there...find what you were looking for...then tell me you're off to do whatever. I won't mention this again. We won't mention it."

Silence fell between the two of you. A crackle of the radio to the side of the room.

"And the other option?" he asked, voice nearly breaking.

A shy look. A happy tilt of her lips.

"The other option...you can rest for a bit before I come back here and make whatever fantasy you were having come true."

A mouth drier than dry left his tongue feeling too large. Too large and too needed to swipe across his lips.

"You don't have to answer now-"

"The second one," he said. "Second one. Want that one. Screw the first one."

A bright and happy smile. A smile that crinkled the tail of her eyes and lit up her face.

She was beaming at him. Squeezing his hand before parting from him.

Not for long...not for damn long if he could help it.

"You give me the word then, good boy," she teased, walking out of the room.

Legs nearly buckling and sending him to the ground, Heisenberg took uneasy steps to his office chair before throwing himself on it. His entire body buzzed, though it seemed far less like electricity and far more like promise and hope. Not love on her end...not yet. But a maybe. Potential.

More.

Grinning stupidly and looking at the desk, he made quick work of clearing the area for the fun he planned on having from his daydream to come true.

As soon as he picked up the recorder Lucky used to transcribe his notes, Heisenberg saw it.

That damned schematic.

His last visit to this same room. A note on said schematic stating "DON'T FORGET" in large words. A note he carelessly put there before guiding Lucky to sit down to look at her transcriptions and laugh with her over the sixth stable boy in one week to die of drunken stupidity.

Quietly and contentedly, he opened the desk drawer to stuff the schematic inside.

"Mmn...don't think I'll need you for a while yet actually..." Eyeing the radio on the wall, Heisenberg tossed his glasses to the table and tried to slick and perfect the wiry hair about his head. "Oh, Lucky, honey...room is ready whenever you are...and so is your good boy."

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heavy metal lover #divergence #good boy #asks #the alcina bit is carried over to hml #i can see her doing cute salon days with the kids #heisenberg complains about it now #but then? #highlight of his little emo life #smut

[seokahwrites]

NUISANCE | chapter 2 (or, i hate him so much my heart skipped a beat)

5.6k

back to nuisance masterlist

pairing.

| lawyer! jeon jungkook x lawyer! reader

summary.

| all you wished for was a relaxing two weeks in a big ass boat eating some big ass shrimps, away from the real world. but instead you’re stuck with your arch rival with no means of escape — and goddamit why does the bastard smell so good.

tags.

| 2 BROOKLYN 99 REFERENCES TELL ME IF U CATCH THEM; paragraphs dedicated to jungkooks back muscles; im so sorry like a few parts were really thirsty; but there’s a very sweet paragraph dedicated to jungkook’s smile; reader and jungkook bonding???; jealous reader; smug jungkook; love sounds like hate; a lot of plot convenience if you haven’t noticed

a/n.

| hello everyone! first off THANK U FOR THE MASSIVE SUPPORT ILY. i feel like this could’ve been better but i’m not sure how. but no they’re not moving too fast bc… well 😃😃 also i’m planning on writing more serious pieces after this series even though i’ve barely started :P anyways, i hope u all have an amazing day lots of love

“What kind of neanderthal doesn’t go outside for two days?

Jungkook asks through the open bathroom door as he’s sitting on his couch, your mouth still too foamy and minty to give him a quick-witted answer.

You spit into the sink and glare at him through the mirror, “I was being productive and I cooked horrible food all day,” you splash water on your face and pause at the door frame on your way out, “Unlike some people that spend their hours hunting for their next prey.”

You don’t stick around to watch the way he rolls his eyes, walking over to your bed to grab the orange wrap skirt and white top for today’s outfit. But you couldn’t really put it on since someone was still in the room.

There isn’t an inkling of a thought in Jungkook’s doe eyes, the time it was taking for him to get a hint was more than enough for you to pass your eyes over his black tank top, stinky green shorts and dark sandals. How did he look better than you in a tank top? Fuck him. Wait, no he doesn’t. Still, fuck Jungkook.

Once your eyes are back on him, the fiend has a shit-eating grin on his face as if he’d just caught you red-handed in the middle of a dirty sin — you were just judging him.

You raise your eyebrows in an attempt to maintain your composure, “Well?” And wave the clothes in your hands to help him understand the situation.

No sound comes from the ‘Oh’ of his lips, his small brain finally coming to terms with reality. But just before he heads out the door, “We’re having lunch at the deck,” and he doesn’t wait for an answer, slamming the door behind him.

Who the hell did he think he was?

Now, you didn't have to go along with Jungkook’s plan — hell, it was probably the last thing you wanted. However, does going to the rooftop deck to have a nice lunch and a-little-too-early drinks really sound like a bad idea?

And the answer to that question is what led you to pulling your clothes over your head and reassuring nobody but yourself that, “I’m only going because of the fucking food,” cursing Jungkook here and there too, of course.

Just before heading off, you grab the cruise’s complementary sun hat, a long string of pastel beads for your neck and your favorite pair of sunglasses — not that you were going to use them for more than keeping your hair away from your face anyways.

Breathe in, Y/N.

You’re out the door, “I’m ready.”

Your exposed skin stings as you feel Jungkook’s eyes go from your leg exposed from the slit of your skirt, to your fluttering stomach and slowly — as if he didn’t want to miss a single detail — up, up, up, until his gaze meets yours. And that look is back, the one he’s only ever used whenever he couldn’t hide what he truly felt for you: aversion.

Yet, instead of the slander you were expecting, Jungkook does nothing but shake away whatever was on his mind and lock the door. Beep, And he goes the entire way to the elevator without uttering a single word.

Still, even if the silence was deafening you don't make much of a fuss, only observing Jungkook’s silent figure as he stared ahead and around anywhere he wouldn't have to meet your eyes.

He was a pain in the ass even when he wasn't speaking.

Ding.

You’re the first to exit, part because you were excited to get a breath of fresh ocean air and part because you couldn’t stand whatever the hell was happening in the elevator.

There were half naked people everywhere, kids running around and chasing after each other through the zig zag of chairs and tables. From the wooden floor to the samples of blue and yellow on the umbrellas, cups and slides, the view was the very core of vacation.

Jungkook suddenly stands before your wide eyes and takes you by the wrist, taking the lead as he shoves his way to the stairs that lead to the highly-expected rooftop restaurant, the place safely guarded on the opposite side of all the commotion.

As your sandals flip-flopped against the wooden stairs, you start to see a flood of blue and beige chaise lounges, white coffee tables centered in the space of each one and the alabaster bar surrounded by people in all sorts of summer attire. Maybe Jungkook was onto something.

Speaking of, he grabs your shoulders — ruining the view as always — and pushes you down the first empty couch he finds. “Stay here, I’ll get us some food.”

You don't fight him on it, deciding to just let the sea breeze caress your face, closing your eyes and taking it all in. Things were nice.

That is until you look at the entrance and see Jungkook talking to the same raven-haired girl from yesterday. The sight bothers you and you can’t quite put your finger on as to why, perhaps it was because he could’ve at least had the fucking decency to not hit on people while he was ordering your food. God. Only he could put a stain to an otherwise perfect morning.

And you could’ve looked away, but just as a bee is attracted to pollen or a driver is allured with the sight of a car crash, you simply couldn’t — not that you were attracted or allured to Jungkook in any way, though.

The woman’s cotton cover up flowed with her hand as she playfully hit Jungkook on the arm. You envy her, you’d never touched an implant before. Jungkook crosses his arms at this movement, probably thinking his biceps were going to pop out even more. Your body threatens to convulse in second hand embarrassment.

But the lovebirds are interrupted when the cashier calls out for Jungkook, his order ready and trayed up. You look away and could only hope it was just in time for none of them to notice that you were ogling, but Jungkook’s mystery girl catches your stare and her angelic smile dissipates in front of your eyes. Chills, literal chills.

You feign surprise when Jungkook sits beside you, placing the tray of colorful drinks and drool-worthy pasta on the table with a clang.

“I hope the mimosas are a good enough treat for your highness,” he bows his head.

You can’t repress your squeal nor your smile as the glass meets your lips and you have a real summer drink for the first time in forever, the girl’s glare fading with every sip you take. Jungkook simply watches, amused when you down half of the drink in one go.

You’re content, only with a simple worry in your mind. “What time is it?”

Luckily Jungkook had brought a watch on his wrist, your phones long forgotten on the nightstand, “One something,” he grabbed both plates, handing over yours, “Why? Gotta run away from me again?”

You try to scoop as much chicken, sauce and pasta as you can twirl on your fork, practically salivating once you're munching down the food. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

Jungkook crosses a leg over the other as he eats the chicken from his own plate, “What are you up to today?”

Huh. You asked yourself the same thing. “I actually have no idea,” you admit, “I just saw the words massage and wine and thought ‘I have to go’.”

“Of course,” and he doesn’t sound the least bit surprised — or judgemental, at that. “You did the same exact thing at the last firm getaway.”

Your hand flies to your mouth, “Oh, God. Why would you remind me,” Jungkook is slapping his knee at a miserable attempt of stifling his laughter, “Nothing will ever compare to the misery of being surrounded by a bunch of sobbing tipsy widows.”

His laugh only booms alive and you try to convince yourself that it scratches your ears, but it doesn’t and you find yourself giggling as well. What the hell was in that mimosa?

“God, youre such a fucking idiot.”

“Lower your voice, boozer,” you slap his thigh — hurting you much more than him — and catch a few glares in your direction.

Jungkook drinks his entire glass, “Eh, screw them,” not sparing a second thought to the strangers, “Are you heading to the fifth floor again?”

The alfredo pasta in your plate has been reduced to nothing, “Yeah, why?”

“I’m heading that way too.”

You snort — you know, like a wild boar. “Gonna meet up with yesterday’s catch?”

He has a conceited smile on his face and you fear the next words to come out his mouth, “Maybe,” he places his plate on his lap and leans closer to you, his breath tickling your ear, “Jealous much?”

Scoff.

You push him away, drinking the rest of your orange juice. Scoff (again). You’ve never met someone so egotistical. How dare he?

“Don’t act like being seduced by an incubus like you is such a big deal,” you hope to poison him with your words but he only bites down a sweet smile, “And it’s not like she’s seen anything that I haven’t in the past two nights.”

Goddammit, Y/N. Where the fuck did that come from?

Jungkook drapes an arm over the couch, “Someone’s been enjoying the view.”

You try your best to scowl at the demon, but when your eyes accidentally tarry on Jungkook’s collarbones and arms — why is it always the fucking arms? — for a few moments too long, red paints your cheeks instead and you simply fiddle with your empty glass.

Jungkook’s victory weighs heavy on the lifted corners of his lips as you wait for him to finish the rest of his food — he ate like a five year old.

“This is where I leave you, I guess.”

The walk to the fifth floor was a quick one, you and Jungkook standing in front of the familiar entrance, that same chalkboard from yesterday scribbled with roses this time.

A woman is the one welcoming you at the door today, the same list and my-boss-forced-me-to smile on her face, just like yesterday’s guy.

“Ms. L/N,” she calls out as you and Jungkook come closer, “You must be the last couple to join us today!”

She manages to sneak her way behind you, pushing both of you into the dim room before her words could even reach your eardrums. Did she say couple?

Jungkook attempts to correct her, “I’m just here to drop her off—,” to no avail.

The woman has a menacing smile and look to her eyes that shuts the both of you right up, “The first activity was just about to start,” she rushes to the exit and shuts the door, but not before a friendly, “Have fun!”

Was this cruise actually full of psychos?

You and Jungkook are frozen in place, only noticing the handful of couples sitting on the floor, the petals spread across the room and romantic candles sticking out the walls, a moment too late.

“Welcome! Welcome!” An elderly woman approaches you, her short hair wrapped in a pink bandana, the boho print matching the rest of her clothes and chunky jewelry, “I’m Hattie, your instructor. Why don’t you two sit down so we can start?”

Though you're both in shock, none of you attempt to make an escape, taking quick but hesitant steps to the last empty space in the back. A flustered Jungkook is the first to talk once you’re sat down, “What the fuck, Y/N?”

Hattie seemed to have been saying something when Jungkook whispered a tad too loud, both of you putting on a smile when she looked. “I have no idea what’s happening either,” you grit through your teeth,

Once she looks away, you and Jungkook take a breather.

“I legit didn't see anything about onboard couple’s therapy, I was really tired,” you rub between your brows, “You can go, Jungkook,” your head gestures to the sealed exit, “I can take the embarrassment. Plus, that’s kind of the whole point.

“But that guard lady locked us in here,” his fading hope is visible in the way he buries his head in his hands, seemingly forgetting who he was with when he asks, “Am I really stuck here with Y/N?”

Are you fucking kidding me. You can’t believe you were empathetic with the monster for even a second. “Don’t be over dramatic, it’s only until six.”

His shock takes over his hands and the volume of his voice when he hits his legs, “WE’RE GOING TO BE HERE FOR FOUR HOURS?”

The murmurs and whatever that instructor was saying, are quickly silenced.

“We’re sorry,” you apologise on his behalf as he struggles with reality, “Please, continue.”

She coughs and puts back that old lady smile of hers, clasping her hands together, “As I was saying, we have three tasks ahead of us,” she puts up a finger for each one she lists, “A loving touch, a loving conversation and a loving drink.”

Her voice is drowned out by your dread, your eyes glancing at the couples holding hands and touching, whispering what were surely forbidden secrets into each other’s ears, the candle wax melting and falling in a picturesque way and how the music was crispy to the ears. It was all so… romantic.

And then there were you two idiots that stuck out amidst the crowd, both awkward yet number one is redder than the roses and number two was sweating like a hog. I’ll let you decide which is which.

Hattie’s words are what bring you back to the present, “For us to loosen up, we will begin with the loving touch session,” please say massage, “Each couple should head up to their respective massage rooms.”

At last, the sun is found in the storm.

You follow with an excited sway when Hattie finally comes to bring you to your room. She closes the door behind her with an, “Enjoy!”

A masseur is waiting on the opposite side of the massage bed with welcome arms, “Good afternoon, Mr. and Ms. L/N.”

Jungkook raises his hand, “I’m actually Jeon, she’s the only—.”

“My mistake, Mr. and Ms. Jeon,” Goddamit, Jungkook can’t you say anything helpful for once? “Which one of you will be massaged first?”

You practically leap to grab the robe in his hand before Jungkook could steal the chance, pointing to the jade door, “Is this the changing room?.”

The man nods, a little taken aback from your excitement.

You're out of your clothes and in the backwards robe in the blink of an eye, laid down on the bed in less than a minute, your head now resting on the top of your crossed arms.

“So, Mr. Jeon,” you feel a cold oil drizzle over your back, experienced hands spreading it across your back, “You’ll be placing your hands—,” wait, where did they go, “— right here.”

And just like that Jeon Jungkook’s hands were on your bare back, the concept of a loving touch finally flickering in your mind. His hands were a little more rough and shakier than you would’ve imagined.

Why was that going through your mind?

You should’ve been wishing death on him, yourself and everybody else in the boat, shouldn’t you?

“A loving touch is all about, not only a physical connection but really feeling your partner’s body, go ahead.”

Jungkook, being the pet he was, followed his orders and he did it a little too well, he slowly moved his hands from the knots on your shoulders to the very low of your back and you’d be lying to yourself if you said it felt horrible.

“It’s connecting on a whole new physical level with the other,” Jungkook’s hands travel to the dimples of your spine and linger for a moment too long, but they quickly come back up and focus on the crevices of your neck instead, each movement seemingly aiming for all of your stiff muscles.

Not too bad at all.

The masseur’s philosophical rant about touch and love is completely ignored, your mind hyper focused on every inch of skin Jungkook set his fingers on, his hands sailing further down the sides of your body, the extra attention he pays to your waist not unnoticed.

“Fuck.”

Indeed.

Oh, God. What did you just say?

No, no, no.

Perhaps it was just low enough for nobody to hear it—

“I guess that means you should switch now,” the masseur chuckles with a cringed tone.

It was not.

You prop yourself up and look at Jungkook who you could only hope wasn’t laughing at you, your eyes glassy and pleading for something unclear.

And the bastard was snickering, looking in no direction in particular with a blush to his cheeks and a mocking, lip-biting chuckle on his face.

Once you’re up and standing, it quickly dawns on you that it’s Jungkook's turn. Meaning you had to touch Jungkook and massage Jungkook and touch Jungkook.

The world did hate you.

Jungkook realises he was taking too long and mutters a quick, “Uh,” before pulling his top over his head and you shut your eyes — weren’t you Ms. Jeon, though?

The masseur has to call out your name for you to open them back up again, Jungkook laid on the bed with his head on top of his arms.

“I suppose you know what to do, Miss,” the man smiles.

“Yeah, Y/N,” he exhaled and you can hear his smug, “You know what to do.”

The square footage of Jungkook’s back intimidated you the tiniest bit now that it was splayed out before you, you must admit. Still, you place gentle hands on his back and you’ve confirmed once and for all that those bumps were indeed not from a disease but muscles. Rock hard muscles.

You don’t even remember you had to repay him the favor of embarrassing you — because yes, it was his fault — as you get lost in every dip and fold of his skin, your fingers moving on pure intuition.

The curve of his back, the ridges of his shoulders and the little jolts on the surface of his skin, you could feel all of it.

A hand to your wrist jolts you awake, Jungkook stirring with a glaze to his eyes as you both look up at the masseur, “It’s time for your next activity, Miss.”

Oh, God. What just happened?

You cough and don’t bother to excuse yourself as you leave the room, Jungkook grabbing your forgotten clothes and putting on his robe as he follows behind you.

You try to shake away the burning that creeps it’s way to your fingertips and cheeks as you sit back down on the floor. But it doesn’t work, your sweaty palms joining the party instead. Great. Just great.

Hattie’s voice saves the day, “I hope we’re all relaxed and ready to converse with our partners,” not at all, “If you could all just face each other, cross your legs and hold hands. This intimacy is important when facing important feelings and questions with your partner.”

As if Jungkook slathering oil on you like you were a nice roast chicken wasn't enough, now you had to hold hands with him. Is death still an option?

You’re facing each other, Jungkook’s palms up, “Shall we?”

Uneasiness settles in your stomach, a feeling you’ve never felt with Jungkook before. Sure, you’ve felt judged or uncomfortable but never truly uneasy. Maybe it was just your body reacting to the physical trauma you had to endure.

You nod.

“You know,” Jungkook seems to still be waking up, “You’re not too bad with your hands,” and he laughs.

But it’s a welcome sound that unbundles your nerves in the most peculiar way, your own smile coming back. “You’re not shabby either.”

“I could tell—.”

“I suppose you honeymooners didn’t hear my explanation,” None of you bother to correct her anymore as she places a deck of cards between you, “But all you need to do is pick a card in turn and answer the question. Don’t forget to look into each other’s eyes,” she winks and stands up, making her way to the front of the crowd.

“I guess this is when we start asking each other the questions,” the cringe in your tone is all that rasps your ears as you hold hands… with Jungkook.

“Go ahead,” his head points to the pile of cards in front of you but his eyes only look at Hattie and the way she seemed to ignore every other couple in the room except the both of you.

You breathe in as deep as you can, your hand grabbing the first question, your uncontrollable blush heating up tenfold when you realise this was probably even more intimate than the event-that-shall-not-be-named that occurred in the massage room.

Your mouth stumbles before properly saying, “How long have you been together?”

But Jungkook doesn’t seem as embarrassed as you, the same tint painted on his cheeks but he manages to laugh all the same, your chuckles joining his.

“I’d say about two years?”

Sly bastard. “I’d say two years too.”

He’s the next to grab a card, placing both of your hands on his left one before reaching.

“This is a great one,” he snorts, putting on a serious face when he replaces the card with your hand, “Are there any issues you’d like to bring up?”

You throw your head back just like the exorcist girl, and cackle— were you okay?. “Well, where should I start?”

This was actually kind of fun.

“Okay, but let’s be real for a moment,” he lightly squeezes your hands, “What is your issue with me?”

Or, maybe not.

“Well,” you curse at the old woman for putting you this close, your eyes left with close to no space to avoid Jungkook’s, “There’s just this way you look at me.”

Your gaze is back on the confused boy, the furrow between his brows strong enough to be considered a wifi connection. “What are you talking about?”

“Like—,” you try to come up with some way to explain, “—The first time we met, right? It’s like, you just go silent for a few seconds and literally look through my soul. It makes me feel like I murdered your entire family.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew wide with every word you spouted, the flush on his cheeks practically steaming from his skin.

Did he seriously not know? Oh, well.

“I’m just gonna go ahead and grab the next one,” you say to the top of Jungkook’s head since his face was pointed to his lap.

“Oh, God,” you squeeze Jungkook’s hands with a little more force than necessary, but at least it makes him look up, “You ready?”

Nod.

“What do you love most about your partner?”

Now that was a real couples’ therapy question. Great job, Hattie.

“I think you should answer this one,” you seem to state the obvious, “Since I was the only person to answer the last question.”

Jungkook’s shoulders fall from their perfect posture, “Fine.”

His eyes have that same glint you mentioned before as he scans you up and down. Was that the fifth time today? New record, guys.

“I guess,” he purses his lips with a slight smile, “She always knows how to make a moment memorable. Oh?

Your palms were sweating once again and you wouldn’t have taken note of it if you weren’t holding Jungkook’s goddamn hands at the moment. Why you of all people?

“Coming of a little strong, partner,” the nervousness in your giggly tone ever the obvious thing.

A small smile, “What about you?”

Oh, right. You needed to answer.

It wasn’t like you were an actual couple, “Uh—,” but why is the air between you so thick?

You struggle to find an answer and decide to go with the first thing that pops in your mind,“Well,” Shut up, Y/N, “He always manages to sneak his way in my thoughts.”

Why didn’t you shut up?

However, at this Jungkook smiles, but it isn’t the taut one you’ve seen hundreds of times before, no. Jungkook’s entire face scrunches up and the moons under his eyes seem to have constellations that creased outwards; the way his nose rumpled, his cheeks puffed up and his front teeth steamed the spotlight. Jungkook wasn’t smiling, the boy in front of you was beaming.

And he was beaming at you.

“Next one?” He asks, his face still shining.

You can’t even move at the sight.

Shuffle. “What is your favorite memory with your partner?” He puts it down, “I have like three answers for this one.”

The lightness is back in an instant and you keep that picture of Jungkook on the back of your mind, “You do?”

“Yup,” he pops the P, “First, at the last Christmas party, I go to take a piss at the men’s bathroom, as one does.”

“Please, don’t say it,” you groan and you can’t even hide your face because Hattie would probably slap your hands into Jungkook‘s.

“But, wait,” he feigns shock, “I hear someone gagging in a stall, more specifically a woman. And who else could it have been but the Y/N L/N.”

The almost forgotten memory of you retching your heart out in a smelly toilet and a suited Jungkook carrying you back to Seokjin comes back, and though it’s fuzzy and the mere thought of it is dreadful, Jungkook’s laugh is contagious, even to you now.

“Ah, I never thanked you for that.”

“You don’t need to—.”

“I didn’t finish,” you look at him disillusioned, “And I shouldn’t, because Mother Jin rubbed it in my face the rest of the night about how I was the boss and he was the lousy, underpaid assistant.”

“Classic Jin,” he chuckled. “Okay, second of all, when you threw a coke at my face two seconds after meeting me.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny, Jungkook,” your voice is dry, “But to my defense—.”

“I looked at you weird, totally a justifiable course of action,” he raises his brow, “What about you?”

“What about me?,” Your confusion is cleared up when you’re reminded that you were simply playing a silly card game, “I would have to say… Watching your boss throw a drink at your face after you asked her to make you a partner in the firm.”

Jungkook seems to have buried the memory, “What is it with you people throwing liquids at me?”

You put a thoughtful hand to your chin, “You just have a very drink throwable face.”

He’s quick to snatch your hand back into his and it doesn’t even ring in your mind, “Another one.”

Groan. “Fine, uhm—,” you purse your lips, “Honestly? Maybe, right after that when you were on the sidewalk crying and piss-drunk and you just kind of talked to me.”

Jungkook’s surprised expression has a genuinity to it, “Oh, no. What did I say?”

You shake your head as if to say ‘Nothing’, “You were just going on about how hard you’ve been working and you couldn’t even go out with your friends and you didn’t look at me in the eye even once,” you’re staring into the empty space, “You just said ‘this was a nice dream but I have to wake up now’ and blacked out.”

Your giggle is akin to a little schoolgirl’s and you look backat Jungkook, the night sky in his smile back once again. Hm. Cu—

Hattie claps and the noise bounces you back from your trance. You whip your hands out of Jungkook's hold, afraid they were going to end up drenched from your heart palpitations — Seriously, why was it so hot in the middle of the ocean?

You avoid Jungkook’s searching eyes to the best of your abilities. This could only be a fever.

“We seem to have reached the end of our loving session,” the biggest smile on her face, she can’t wait to get rid of us, “Each couple’s loving drink is awaiting at the exit. The robes are complementary, please do not forget your possessions and stay in love!” Thank God.

You’re on your feet in no time, practically jogging to the exit when Hattie suddenly grabs hold of you, making Jungkook stop in his tracks.

“You two kept on interrupting my class,” she narrowed her eyes but there’s a nicety to her, “But I let it slide, it’s not like I haven’t dealt with worse. Plus, you two have something special that most of the other couples in this room didn’t have.”

A woman scoffs at Hattie’s words when she passes by with her own wife.

Your lack of response is filled with Jungkook’s curious words, “And what is that?”

She leans in a little closer, “Shine,” she whispers this time, “A shine to your eyes and a shine to the way you dance around each other, it’s envying.”

The shine she was referring to was surely the dislike you had for each other. Surely.

You were so sure that you wouldn't stick around for another crazy word of hers and you go back to your almost-running pace to the elevator, not looking back to check if Jungkook had followed behind you.

Why were you so embarassed?

You reach your room in no time and hide yourself beneath the sheets. For a few moments you don’t move, as if you were waiting for something, or someone, to come knocking at the door; and when no one does, your chest weighs a little heavier as if you were disappointed.

“Are you telling me that Jungkook made you moan?” Jin’s voice shrill through the speakerphone, your knees to your chest as you sat at the balcony.

“That’s besides the point, Jin,” you groan, “But, yes.”

He hisses through his teeth, just like the snake he is, “Yeah, there’s no coming back from that.”

“Please,” you’re begging at this point, “Help me.”

“I don’t know what to say Y/N. The symptoms you described don’t sound like the flu, it sounds like raging thirsty hormones.”

Beep, you hear through the glass doors, making you turn, “You’re the worst,” the handle was rotating, “I gotta go, Jin. Love you, bye,” you whisper into the microphone as you grab the phone and make your way into the room for who knows what reason.

And there you were, like a fucking idiot, standing in the middle of the room when Jungkook walks in, scratching the back of his neck when you lock eyes.

“Hey.”

You bite your lip, “Hey.”

The air weighs down with words that wanted to be said and the uncertainty of what they meant, and nobody says anything as you fidget with your skirt Jungkook makes his way to his pile of clothes.

You watch as he digs his way and he seems to be looking for something.

Does he need help—

“Fucking hell, Y/N?”

Excuse me?

You come closer to his little circus act with your hands behind your back, “What?”

Jungkook stands up and you can feel his breath on the tip of your nose, “Where’s my shirt?”

Now, you were truly baffled.

“What shirt?”

He goes to the bathroom and continues his search for said shirt, “My hawaiian shirt,” his voice echoes, “It’s pink, it looks exactly like yours.”

Wow. And he picked on you for that on your very first night together. Wow.

“Why would I steal it?” You start searching through the pile of clothes on the chair, sure to find something.

“I didn’t say you stole it,” Jungkook is striding towards you, “You could’ve just gotten them mixed—.”

His sentence never finds an end when you stand up and turn at the very same moment he comes behind you, your bodies clashing and falling to the floor with a bang. Jungkook is on top of you, the only thing stopping your faces from touching being his upend arm, you don’t even notice your hand was holding onto it until you feel something flex beneath your fingertips.

Could this day get any better?

It takes a few moments for any of you to move, but when you do it’s up and rushing, both of you dusting off your clothes as if there was anything to dust off and staring intently at the ground.

“Uhm—,” Jungkook is the first to break the silence as he grabs something from behind you, “Found it.”

And you both wait for someone to say something else, still no one does and Jungkook puts the shirt back in the pile, walking towards the door.

But just before he could take those final steps, you grab him by the wrist and breathe out. You hated this.

“Look, Jungkook,” he does, “I’m really sorry for running off, I just felt really weird, you know?”

He early waits for you to continue.

“It’s just—,” you let go of him, your fingertips burning from the touch, “—today was a lot. I think we’ve never had real, sober time together that lasted for more than an hour and there was so much touching and talking,” you find yourself rambling, “It was just, really overwhelming because we’re not that close, “So, let’s just go back to insulting each other every two seconds and have a good dinner?”

He seemed to be expecting more, but if he was he doesn’t say a word about it and puts on a happy façade, “Only if you promise to not moan in the middle of our meal.”

Your expression falls flat. “You know what, forget it—.”

“Fine, fine,” he puts his hands up in defeat and unlocks the door, “They’re serving sushi tonight,” he doesn’t wait for you as he heads to the elevator, “So hurry up, dumbass.”

You smile, tucking your hair behind your ears.

Dumbass.

taglist. (open)

| @fangirl125reader / @vantxx95 / @jinpanman / @ggukkieland / @miniiimee / @giadalin / @mrcleanheichou / @btsmylife21 / @primadonnasdream / @paizthemaiz

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[theraspberryler]

Slime Primers

Another fic done! I actually really like how this one turned out, I am unbelievably soft for this pair. Based on this prompt here!

Summary: Tommy is stubborn and won’t admit that he may be in a mood, but Charlie is a teasy bastard and decides to put an end to it. 

~This is a tickle fic! If that’s not your jam then please move on!~

TW - none I don’t think, let me know if I need to add any

The Tommyinnit was absolutely not in a lee mood. You’d have to be crazy to think that a big man such as him could even get lee moods. In fact, he was so not in a lee mood that Charlie’s teasing looks and wiggling fingers weren’t even affecting him in the slightest. 

Totally. 

Tommy huffed and looked away from the other’s stupid grinning face and dumb wiggling fingers, turning his attention back to the ores he was smelting. Now, usually a task as simple as smelting ores wouldn’t really require much attention or effort, but Tommy had a rather complex system of eight different furnaces lined up, and he was constantly going to each separate furnace and collecting the one or two smelted iron ingots from them, crafting them into blocks, and then carefully arranging them in the double chest sitting next to his furnaces. 

When Wilbur walked by and asked him what the hell he was doing, Tommy had replied in a very usual Tommyinnit fashion that he was working on a craft of true expertise and precision, and that it was, in fact, very important. He immediately glared daggers at Charlie, sat on the other side of the room, who snickered in response to Tommy’s explanation. 

Because what Tommy was refusing to admit, was that early on in the day, Charlie seemed to almost instantly catch onto his (not!) mood, and took it upon himself to be the most teasy, annoying little shit he could, and Tommy was finding anything and everything to distract himself from the butterflies he felt in his tummy whenever he saw Charlie’s wiggling fingers, or heard his teasing remarks. 

Tommy knew that he was just making this more difficult on himself; Charlie knew him well, and had witnessed Tommy in multiple lee moods before. He knew exactly what got to him, and practically had every spot and reaction to every little thing memorized. But Tommy was proud, dammit, and he wasn’t going to make Charlie’s job that easy! (Well, that, and Tommy may have enjoyed the way Charlie has always been the best at getting the best reactions out of him, and wanted to prolong the fun.) He was gonna have to try harder if he wanted to break The Tommyinnit!

So, there they were, Tommy fussing around the furnaces desperately trying to fight down his embarrassed flush, and Charlie lounging around on one of the chairs in the room, immensely amused by every little squeak Tommy let out when the boy foolishly spared a glance over his shoulder at the other. 

But, Charlie did have to admit, he was pretty surprised by how long Tommy had managed to keep this up. He was poking fun at and teasing the boy for the better part of the last two or so hours, and while Tommy did look like a blushy, embarrassed mess, he still hadn’t cracked. 

Though Tommy had been holding out well so far, Charlie was always up for a challenge. Especially if said challenge involved breaking through the stubborn, cocky personality of a particular blond teenage loudmouth. 

“You’re looking awfully red, Tommy, maybe you should take a break from working over the hot furnaces, yeah? I’m sure the iron would smelt just fine on it’s own.” 

“Fuck off,” Tommy growled under his breath, willing himself to not react as he saw Charlie shift in his seat in his peripheral vision, despite his heart rate picking up at the downright evil looking smirk on Charlie’s face. He forced the image out of his head, busying himself with emptying the furnaces again as he felt his mind begin to wander. 

“Really, Toms? That wasn’t very nice. You know there’s no point in resisting, because at the end of the day I’m still gonna get to scribble my fingers all over your sides, and how I’m gonna press my thumbs in between every single space in between every single ticklish little rib. And no matter how long you prolong the inevitable, you’ll still be stuck in my grasp until I decide that you’re done, no matter how much you kick and squirm.”

Okay

Fuck

Fuck Charlie Slimecicle and his stupid face and his stupid dumb teasy words, and Tommy could feel his insides turn to goo as he set down the iron ingots in his hands, covering his face and letting out a dramatic whine.

“Awe, why don’t you just come here Toms, make it easier for yourself, hm? We both know you want to bud, come on” Tommy whined again, shaking his head and wishing the ground would just swallow him whole. He didn’t think his legs would be able to carry himself over to Charlie even if he tried, so he found himself sliding down to the floor, wrapping his arms around himself. 

Luckily, Charlie seemed to understand the predicament Tommy was in, and decided to have a bit of mercy as he walked over to the other, sitting down on the ground next to the younger boy. 

“Hey, Toms.” Tommy just shook his head again, unable to stop the nervous giggles from leaking out of his mouth, and slumped down until he was practically laying down, despite the fact that Charlie literally hadn’t done a thing. 

“Shh, it’s alright Tom, come here,” Charlie said in a sweet voice, opening his arms for the other. Tommy briefly peaked out from behind his hands only to quickly return them to his face. He took a few deep, stuttering breaths, before deciding fuck it. Without moving his hands from his face once, Tommy sat up and shuffled into Charlie’s arms, immediately burrowing into the other’s chest. 

Charlie smiled at the adorable boy that was practically in his lap, wrapping his own arms around him and rubbing his back. Tommy jumped at the contact despite Charlie not having any intention of tickling him yet, his anticipatory giggles flowing freely from him. 

“Ready?” Charlie asked in a soft voice, and Tommy, not quite ready to attempt to use his words, just nodded in response, bracing himself.

So, Charlie wasted no time in sliding his hands up Tommy’s red and white t-shirt, unleashing all his fingers along the blond’s sides. He figured the boy had waited long enough, not having the heart to drag it out any longer. 

Tommy squealed before snorting, honestly not expecting Charlie to go all in right away, leaning further against the older boy and allowing himself to laugh freely. After being in a constant state of anticipation for the past couple hours, he really didn’t have the energy to attempt to hold his reactions back. 

Charlie felt himself melt at his sweet, unrestrained laughter. This was the exact reason he enjoyed messing with him like this, there were very few things that brought him more joy than Tommy allowing himself to act like a kid and be happy without worrying about his ‘image.’ 

Tommy hiccuped as Charlie trailed his fingers up to his ribs, planning on keeping true to his previous promise. 

“You know the drill by now Toms, I’m gonna go to each individual little rib you got, and every time you try to push me away we start over. Ready?” Tommy didn’t bother trying to hide his excitement, both boys knew how much he’s always enjoyed this game. Tommy put enough space between the two of them that Charlie could reach the front of his ribs with relative ease, but still facing towards the other so he could keep his face pressed into the crook of his neck, his arms winding themselves around Charlie and gripping the other tightly, in order to keep himself from pushing him away. 

Charlie cooed at him for obeying so quickly, making sure to let Tommy know how good of a job he was doing. At the praise, Tommy’s giggles went high pitched and he arched his back, grabbing a fistful of Charlie’s shirt and rubbing it between his fingers as a way to stimulate himself, and help keep him from squirming around too much. 

“Alright, here we go! Ready?” Charlie pressed his thumb into Tommy’s bottom leftmost rib, massaging into it. Tommy snorted, breaking into pitchy, childlike, loud giggles that were regularly interrupted by snorts and squeals. 

Tommy did a pretty good job of staying still for Charlie, his only real movement was the jolt he would give every time Charlie moved on to a new rib. 

By the time Charlie reached Tommy’s top left rib, Tommy had all but gone limp in his hold, his body shaking with adorable, happy laughter. And by the time Charlie had gone to each and every one of his right ribs, Tommy had tears in his eyes from laughing so much, hands repeatedly clenching and unclenching Charlie’s t-shirt as a way of grounding himself. 

Charlie took in Tommy’s disheveled, tired state and figured he should probably wrap it up for the day. 

He effortlessly scooped up the still giggling boy in his arms, who instantly allowed him to and wrapped his arms around his neck. With one hand still supporting Tommy, Charlie used his other to take the unsmelted iron out of the furnaces, not wanting to leave them running while no one was in the room to watch them. He carried Tommy back towards his room, using his hip to push the door open and closed. 

By the time he set Tommy down on his bed, the boy was already fast asleep. Charlie gently untangled Tommy’s arms from around his neck, and stood there for a moment, feeling his chest swell with pride as he watched Tommy’s relaxed, sleeping face. 

Before he left the room, he made sure to snap a picture, turning the lights off and gently closing the door, taking one last glance at the sleeping boy, making sure he was still alright. 

Slimey Boi

*attachment - one image* 

suck on that soot, I’m clearly the superior brother

Wimblur Suit 

I hate you

so fucking much 

*Wimblur Suit saved one (1) image*

#tickle fic #mcyt tickle fic #mcyt tickle #lee!tommyinnit #lee!tommy #ler!charlie

[tinysushimark]

My Everything (HRJ)

1.7k words. (Fluff)

Sometimes you wished you could run away from college and then run a café and live with your boyfriend.

You looked up at him, he was playing on his phone, why was he so relaxed? He has finals too next week. "Renjun! Don't you have to study?" You said.

"I'm done with my course." He said looking back down at his phone.

You sighed, he was always one step ahead of you, even when you were in school he used to teach you things because he was done. Now, even in college he was done before you. Even though you had different majors, you had the same college and fortunately, your classes took place in the same building.

A sigh escaped from your lips as you looked at the amount of chapters left. "What's wrong baby?" Renjun said, sitting next to you.

"I have 3 more chapters left, and exams are next week." You said. "Anything i can help with?" At this you snickered.

"Babe you're an arts major, how are you going to help me with Company Law?" You smiled and looked down.

"I am smart." He said.  "I never said you're dumb."

He stood behind your chair and started massaging your shoulders and neck. "Renjun what the-" He shushed you. "Get back to work." He kept massaging your shoulders.

"Renjun stop. That fucking hurts."

"You're stressed it's all pent up-"

"I told you to fucking stop it." You shouted at him, shooting a death glare.

"Why are you being so mean? I'm just trying to help." Renjun spat at you.

"You're clearly not helping, so how about you leave? You're just adding on to my stress with your completed course." You shouted at him.

He picked his bag up and slammed the door on his way out, making you flinch a little.

Asshole, that's the only word that came to your head once he left. His temper is very very short. Sometimes you wondered why you dated him and got annoyed at him. You had noticed how nowadays, the way he dealt with you had started changing.

He'd shout and slam doors. He never did that before but he was doing it nowadays. He is definitely bored of you and wants to break up with you, this is what you thought.

He on the other hand was very stressed, it wasn't about studies, it was about his family. After he left for college, he got to know about the fights which happened back at home. His mom and dad were fighting a lot more than when he was back at home. It had driven him off the edge that he wasn't there to stop his parents. He was an only child, so he'd end up persuading them to stop fighting, but he couldn't do it from here, in college. The only person who'd listen to him was getting annoyed at him too, you. He thought that he was the problem, probably everyone around him has problems because of him.

You weren't able to complete your course because Renjun decided to stay the nights in between semester and took you out so much. If he would've told you to study, you'd be revising by now. He forgot that you leave everything for him. He hadn't told you anything about what was happening back at home. He applied to the same college as you because he didn't want to lose you but he slowly understood that he was just a distraction for you.

Renjun didn't speak to you the entire week, and the week after that. You were done with your exams but still no contact or trace of Renjun.

You called him multiple times those weeks but he didn't pick up, knowing that he was probably busy revising, you left him alone. You needed the space.

After your exams were over you went to his shared flat, one of his flatmates saw you in an alleyway and smiled at you. "Mark, have you seen Renjun?"

"Renjun went to college, he must be back by now though." Mark said.

"Ok, thanks."

"If he isn't home, you can just wait on the couch, he'll be back soon I think." Mark said.

You nodded, bidding Mark a goodbye and walking to their apartment. Renjun had told you the password to the apartment, all his flatmates knew that he had a girlfriend and they didn't mind it. They were friendly and got along with you.

When you unlocked the door and got in you saw a girl in the kitchen, around the same age as you.

"Oh Mark you're back?" She said and turned around. "Hello." You said and she smiled at you. "Who are you by the way?" She asked you, the question took you aback.

"I'm Rejun's girlfriend." You said, her mouth formed a small Oh. "What's your Major and Year?"

"I'm a final year in BCom."

"I'm a first in year Mass Media. Oh by the way I'm Mark's girlfriend."  She said and passed a cup of coffee towards you. "Renjun isn't home, how about you wait here till he's back? He said he wanted to get some groceries." Mark's girlfriend said. She was younger than you and Mark. Mark was doing his post graduation and she was in her first year. You and Renjun were the same age.

When Renjun had moved in only Mark was living here, before another guy named, Jeno had moved in. You had found yourself a reasonable one flat apartment but slowly it's cost was rising which was a problem for you, but you kept living in it.

"We're looking for a flatmate." Mark's girlfriend said, trying to break the awkward silence. "Oh, where do you live?"

"The apartment above."

The both of you started talking about college and she told you details about the flat and the empty room. It seemed decent and you thought about it. "Can i see it?" It was a chance to be closer to Renjun, he wouldn't have to commute so much to see you.

Renjun came back home an hour after you had arrived, Mark and his girlfriend kept you entertained. They made you coffee and spoke to you.

When Renjun came home, you saw his red face, which was puffy.

He saw you and stood at the door frozen. Slowly tears started to fall from his eyes and your movements were quick. You ran to him and hugged him. He fell on his knees near the shoe shelves and you hugged him. He cried into your arms and you soothed his back.

"What's wrong Jun?" You asked softly. Instead you got a louder sob for a reply.

His grip around you tightened and he cried for a few minutes before pulling away and pushing your hair back from your face.

"My parents are getting divorced, and i thought i lost you because you lost interest in me-"

"Renjun I love you." You said hands caressing his cheek. "Why didn't you tell me about all this?"

"I didn't want to burden you, and I thought you'd get affected."

"Renjun, if it's bothering you and is a problem to you, it's my problem too." You said smiling at him.

"They've been fighting a lot lately, since i came here."  Renjun looked down at the floor. "I wasn't there to stop them."

"Renjun, its not your fault." You put your hand under his chin and made him look up at you. "It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself."

"But I should've been there and because of me you weren't able to complete your course on time, its all my fault."

Your boyfriend who was almost a head taller than you, suddenly seemed like a small lost child who you wanted to coddle and sing to. He looked so troubled and sad that your heart hurt. It wasn't his fault, he blames himself for everything.

You remember the time when you were cutting vegetables and got a slight cut, he blamed himself for it, saying that he knew that you dont know how to use a knife so he should've been the one cutting the vegetables.

He was harsh on himself and as much as you believed you could change it, you couldn't but you wanted to.

"Renjun, its not your fault that i didn't study, it's my fault. That's on me."

"If I hadn't stayed the nights, you'd be done."

"Renjun you stayed over the weekends, i always had weekdays but i ended up wasting them, it's on me." You explained to him.

"What about my parents? That's totally on me. I shouldn't have left them knowing how hostile they are towards each other."

"If they were hostile towards each other did you ever consider that they were both stressed together. They didn't want to be together Renjun."

He finally looked at you, eyes dejected.

"I want to break up with you."

"Why?"

"I'm nothing but a distraction to you."

"You are my driving force. You're like a miracle to me. I wish you could see that."  You connected your foreheads. "You're the person i look forward to each day, knowing you'll provide me comfort and that you'll be there to listen to me."

"And i wish i could show you how much i feel for you, It can't be expressed in words." You whispered, planting a small kiss on his cheek.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on and  for keeping you in the dark." Renjun said.

You nodded. "You're not gonna hear the end of it, they annoyed me so much over the phone about who'll keep the pearls and me." Renjun said. "Honestly, your mom deserves the pearls." You said looking into his eyes.

A small giggle came from his chest. "Yeah she does."

That's when the door opened and Jeno entered. "Renjun, its dirty here-"

"Oh hi Y/N!"  Jeno smiled and waved at you. Mark slowly pulled Jeno, "You're ruining their moment dude." Mark muttered under his breath.

All of you laughed and ate ramen for dinner, enjoying each others company.

"Renjun, Mark's girlfriend told me there's a room upstairs that's empty. I was thinking i should move in there." You said when he brought you to his room.

"Actually, i was about to ask you if you wanna move in together, Mark wants his girlfriend to shift downstairs, we can have the entire apartment to ourselves." Renjun smiled. "Plus my house is closer to our college."

"Yes, I'll move in with you."

New beginnings awaited you two, all full of happiness and sunshine with a few rainy days, but no storm lasts forever, all of them pass, and bring along sunshine again.

Read More: Masterlist

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #superm #hot sauce #nct jisung #hendery #nct u #nct drabbles #huang renjun #nct renjun #renjun #renjun icons #renjun fluff #mark lee #00 line imagines #nctfics #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff

[hongism]

as you wish - jaehyun smut

pairing: jaehyun x female reader

genre: ceo!jaehyun, assistant!reader, smut, absolute filth guys

word count: 3544

warnings: daddy kink, semi-public smut, choking, thigh riding, facefucking, deepthroating, throat bulging, oral sex: male receiving, oral: female receiving, sir kink, size kink, unprotecc sex, cum eating, cum swallowing, creampie, fingering, filth, absolute filth, fucking filth y'all, corruption kink, overuse of baby girl and princess, possessive!jaehyun, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, dom!jaehyun, sub!reader, teasing, breast play, nipple play, pussy slapping, overstimulation, praise, basically both have a pain kink, reader cries bc jaehyun's big dick is that good, this is not a proper boss assistant relationship like y'all no, but do i care? fuck that no I don't, yes this is kick it jaehyun, no don't come for me jfc this warning list is LONG

summary: maybe you and your boss don't have the most professional relationship, but he's so good at fucking you that you don't think twice about it.

a/n: ...don't ask. this is gratuitous smut and absolute filth and I have zero shame, so don't ask pls this is for @parksfilter​ @franklytae​ and myself. also thank you dearest fram for this sexy ass banner :3

…

...

“Sir? Your 4 o’clock appointment came by early.” You step into the dimly lit office to find your boss sitting behind his desk, as usual, eyes glued to his computer even as you speak. “Mr. Jung,” you speak a bit louder in hopes of catching his attention. Sure enough the man glances up at you, dark eyes finding yours as he looks at you over the rim of his glasses.

“Yes, Miss L/N?”

“Your 4 o’clock.”

“It’s 3:36, Miss L/N. Not 4 o’clock. You’re early. As is my client.”

“Well sir, Mr. Kim asked me to remind you that you were rather late to the last meeting.” You grin at your boss, teeth shining through the smile. His lips quirk into a small smile. “So, Jaehyun, who’s fault was that?”

“Yours actually, Y/N. Someone was taking her sweet time… taking care of business. Go tell Mr. Kim that I will see him at 4 o’clock and no sooner.” Jaehyun pushes his chair back from the desk, eyes still not leaving yours, and steps around the side of the wood. His fingers run along the surface. He barely traces it, a delicate touch that makes you think of less than holy things. “I meant now, Miss L/N. I only have 21 minutes to conduct certain business with you.”

“Of course, Mr. Jung. I’ll be back shortly.” You turn on your heel, spinning to face the door, and step out with haste. Jaehyun’s eyes follow you as you go, you can feel the heat of his gaze on your backside. The door clicks shut behind you though and blocks the feel of his eyes for the time being. “Mr. Kim!” You greet with a wide grin. Said man’s eyes flit up to yours as you smile down at the place where he awaits you.

“Is Jaehyun ready for me?”

“No, actually. He asked that we wait until 4 o’clock precisely. He has a bit of paperwork that needs to be concluded before your meeting if that’s alright?”

“I thought you were supposed to mention his previous–”

“I did, but as you know, I answer to my boss’s orders only. I’ll come back to bring you in at 4 o’clock, Mr. Kim.”

“Ah, I see, Miss. As you wish.” The man sitting before you nods his head once at you.

“Actually sir, it’s as Mr. Jung wishes, but I’ll pass on the message.”

Your heels click against the hard floor as you walk away from the businessman. A smile still plays at your lips because you know what’s waiting for you behind your boss’ door. You don’t bother knocking before stepping back into his office. One hand trails over the dark wood, slipping over the lock and twisting it to the right, then you turn to face Jaehyun.

“Miss L/N, what did my client say?” He asks from his place in front of his desk. The suit fits him too well, and you see that now that he’s standing before you in full glory like this.

“As you wish, Mr. Jung.” You walk towards the man, hand on your collar, and pop the top three buttons of your blouse open.

“Hmm, I quite like the sound of that, Miss L/N.” He reaches out to snatch you by the waist. “Wearing a red number under a white shirt is a bit risky, don’t you think?”

“Do you think so? Maybe you’ll have to punish me for it then… sir.” Jaehyun’s hand trails up from your waist, delicate touch brushing the valley between your breasts. Goosebumps rise across your skin as he touches you. He hums at the sight, lips quirking into a small smirk at the same time, then glances up to your face before speaking again.

“Something tells me you’d like to be punished though, princess.” You roll your eyes at the comment. Stopping your gaze on the wall over to your right, you check the clock.

“19 minutes, Jaehyun.”

“Careful with that mouth, princess, or I’ll just go ahead and cancel the meeting altogether.” Jaehyun leans forward to press his warm lips against the column of your neck.

“You wouldn’t,” you whisper before letting your head fall back under Jaehyun’s ministrations. He chuckles against your skin. It sends ripples of pleasure through you, and you are forced to bite back the moan threatening to climb out of your mouth.

“As you wish,” he mutters back before leaning away from you. Twisting, you try to pull away from the man, but he locks you in place with his thighs, squeezing you between them before you can step back. He turns to his phone and taps away at some buttons while keeping one hand firmly on your waist. “Mr. Kim! Yes, yes, it’s Jaehyun. I hate to do this so last minute, but we had some paperwork complications come up just now. Would we be able to push the meeting to 5 o’clock? Yes? Wonderful. Again, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” The call ends a moment later, and Jaehyun returns to smirking at you.

“I cannot believe you,” you hiss out. Your boss merely laughs. One hand slips between your legs to push them apart. The tight material of your skirt stops him from continuing the motion. You have to smile at the almost annoyed gleam that crosses Jaehyun’s eyes as he realizes the obstruction; however, it doesn’t last long because he pushes the material up over your thighs and ass for better access. You sink down onto Jaehyun’s thick muscled thigh before you know it.

“I have a lot of paperwork to attend to since my assistant got snippy.” Jaehyun’s teeth drag across his lower lip. He rocks his thigh upward. Pressure hits your clit, bringing a sharp wave of pleasure over you, and you grab him by the shoulders to stabilize yourself. “Fuck yourself against my thigh, baby girl. I wanna see my good little girl get off on Daddy’s thigh.”

“F-Fuck–” you gasp as Jaehyun rocks against you, not giving you a chance to speak or breathe before he yanks you closer by the collar.

“That’s an order, baby girl.”

“Yes–yes sir.” You slowly drag your body forward, letting the feel of his muscled leg against your core wash over you. Jaehyun’s fingers work at the rest of the buttons on your blouse. He works them open deftly before reaching around your back to pop the clasp of your bra. You do him the favor of yanking both your blouse and bra off. They’re thrown somewhere behind you, but you don’t have time to glance back and check because Jaehyun’s lips are latching around one of your nipples without warning. You instinctively buck against him. “Fu-uck.” A small whine leaves your lips as Jaehyun’s tongue swirls around your sensitive bud. He gives a sharp suck to it. You watch the skin rise up under his lips, teeth sinking into your lower lip. His other hand finds its way to your other breast and massaging it with his large hand. He pulls off with a cocky grin to his lips.

“You sound so innocent and needy. No matter how many times I corrupt you, you still act all innocent.” Another whine slips out, Jaehyun’s long fingers toying with your nipples as he speaks. “Listen to yourself. I want to ruin you. Turn you into my own little slut.” Jaehyun pushes up, bringing you with him, and you yet again have to brace yourself on his shoulders.

“You haven’t ruined me yet, sir.” Lifting a hand to Jaehyun’s face, you trace his sharp jawline with your index finger. The light touch coaxes goosebumps out of his skin, ones that rise to meet your finger as you move along his features. “But I would quite like it if you did.” Your words come out like a purr. They have a visceral effect on Jaehyun, his whole body lurching forward and pushing your back to the edge of his desk roughly. The sensation sends ripples of pain through your body only for a moment before it passes and leaves you quivering in excitement underneath him.

“Turn around. Now.”

You don’t wait to be told twice and spin as quickly as you’re able to given Jaehyun’s close proximity to you. A hand comes down against your ass. The skin ripples under Jaehyun’s touch. Even with your underwear, you’re certain that his touch will leave a nice handprint across your skin. Besides the underwear doesn’t last long. Jaehyun yanks it down with one hand, the other finds your bare back and pushes you until your face presses against his desk. Something is digging into your stomach – probably his stapler or something of the like – and you try your best to wiggle it out of the way. Jaehyun must think you’re attempting to misbehave though because his hand comes down against your ass again. The sting is sharper this time now that you aren’t wearing any underwear, but you revel in it nonetheless.

“Da-addy, something’s hurting my side,” you call out to the man behind you.

“Oh? I should’ve cleaned the desk off beforehand. My apologies, baby girl.” The hand on your back snakes it’s way up to your head, latching onto your hair and yanking your body back. A wanton moan escapes at the sharp tug. Jaehyun ignores your whining in favor of sweeping his belongings to the side, leaving an open space for you to fall back against when he releases your hair. “I’ll make it up to you, princess, don’t worry.”

“I never do,” you giggle back. You can see his form out the corner of your eye. He must know that you can as well because he’s making a show out of taking his jacket off and rolling his sleeves up his forearms. You have to bite your lip to keep a moan from slipping out. Then, Jaehyun dips out of sight.

Cold fingers brush your slick folds, toying with the wetness pooled at your core. You gasp and lurch further forward on his desk, blindly grasping for some sort of support as he pushes two digits in without warning. The stretch is sudden and a bit uncomfortable at first, but soon he’s working you open like it’s common practice. The pads of his fingers toy around your sweet spot, teasing and prodding but never fully touching it, and you buck your hips back against his fingers in attempts to get him to hit that spot. It almost works, but Jaehyun crooks his fingers inside you at the same time. The suddenness of the action catches you off-guard. It also brings you to your first orgasm, walls clenching around his thick fingers, pulsing and tightening on him as you ride out your orgasm.

“Naughty naughty, little girl.” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. “Roll over, face up.” Your mind is a bit muddled and fuzzy already. Jaehyun smacks the flat of his hand against your wet pussy, and it brings a jolt through you, an encouragement to get moving and roll over faster. Apparently, it’s still not fast enough for Jaehyun because he yanks you forward by the legs until your cunt is right in front of his lips. You nearly clench your thighs around his head just at the sight of him between your legs like that, but you resist the temptation in favor of throwing your head back in pleasure. He drags the flat of his tongue against your sopping folds. It’s slow at first, almost teasing in the way he laps at your heat, but he seems to realize that the two of you are still on a time crunch. Next thing you know, his tongue is prodding at your entrance. He builds up a quick rhythm, no longer wasting time in fucking his tongue in and out of you, and you reach down to grab hold of his hair. Fingers intertwine with his dark locks, and he groans against your pussy. The vibrations go straight to your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. It’s enough to send another orgasm through your body, and it’s like little jolts of electricity shoot through you, making you see stars.

“O-Oh fu-fuck Jaehyun, fuck fuck. Fuck, Jaehyun, ju-ust like that, please. Yes, yes, yes,” you ramble, already halfway to losing yourself in the pleasure despite barely getting started. Jaehyun chuckles against you, sucking at your sensitive clit as he pulls off you.

“It seems that someone forgot what my title is.” A hand slaps your cunt. The sound that resonates is a wet and disgusting one, one that has you writhing under Jaehyun’s touch and has him slapping your pussy again when you fail to respond. “Get it right, slut. You have two options. Say them both.”

“S-Sir!” You cry out when his palm hits your clit again. “Sir an-and Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Jaehyun coos and rewards you with a small kiss pressed to your clit. “Up. I wanna fuck your pretty little mouth.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, chest heaving as you look up at Jaehyun, who’s getting to his feet himself. The sight distracts you a moment. His hair is ruffled and unkempt thanks to your touch, tie off-kilter and loose, lips and chin glistening with your juices, and it’s such a breathtaking sight that you lose your train of thought. “I said up.” Jaehyun pulls you back to reality by tugging your body forward, fingers clenched around your hips and pulling you off the desk. You nearly fall face first into his crotch, nose actually bumping the bulge in his trousers. He’s nearly bursting out of his pants. You grin at the thought of the large present hiding behind the material and resituate yourself so that you’re more comfortable on your knees before him.

“Yes sir,” you murmur as your fingers work his buttons and zipper apart. One sharp tug to the band of his pants and underwear is enough to spring his cock loose. He’s quite blessed, to be frank – thick and long, such that you have to use two hands to cover his whole length.

“Don’t just stare at me, baby girl.‌ Get to work.” You do as told, moistening your lips, then take the head of his cock into your mouth. He hisses at the contact. Your eyes snap up to his face as he makes the sound and gauge his reaction. He looks pleased already, tongue toying with the corner of his mouth while watching you bop your head up and down along his member. You hum around him. “F-Fuck, baby girl, let me fuck your mouth. Let me fuck it, shit.” His hand works its way into your hair and tightens around it. He lets you pull off to catch your breath once, a thin line of saliva connecting your lips and his shaft, then he pushes it back into your mouth. It fills you up before you’re even halfway down his member.‌ He keeps pushing and pushing though, and you thank your lucky stars for the lack of a gag reflex because you feel his cock press its way into your throat.

Jaehyun hisses above you. You can’t look up at him, too focused on his member, but he keeps groaning and hissing so much that you have to glance up at his expression. His eyes aren’t locked on your mouth or his cock, rather he’s looking past both things. The hand in your hair shifts, a light touch tracing down your skin until it reaches your throat.

“Fuck, you’re so tiny that my big cock bulges in your little throat. That’s the hottest shit I’ve ever seen, baby girl. Look at you.” Jaehyun’s hand slips back up to your hair and latches on. He braces himself on it, thrusting slowly in and out of your mouth. He presses into your throat with each thrust. The corners of your eyes are moist with tears, and they’ll begin to fall before he cums, but you try to focus on breathing around his fat cock rather than the tears. “You take my dick so well, princess. You’re doing so well, fu-uck. Such a good little slut for Daddy, aren’t you?” You can neither nod nor hum in approval around him, his cock filling you up too much to do either. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to expect an answer though. He keeps fucking your mouth, pace speeding up more and more as time goes on, and breathing is becoming more and more of a struggle. Still, he’s close and hot cum spills down your throat a moment later, nearly choking you from the sheer quantity of it and the lack of air in your lungs. Bringing a hand up to his hip, you drum your fingers against his bare skin three times, a small signal that you need him to pause for you. He pulls out immediately. “Are you alright, love?” He asks as you gasp for breath. The hand in your hair reaches around to cup your chin, lifting your face to his. Jaehyun stoops down to be eye to eye with you. “Color?”

“G-Green,” you gasp out. A small smile spreads across your lips as you see the relief in Jaehyun’s eyes. He must still be concerned though because your tears are already falling. “Fuck me, sir. Fuck me please?”

“Absolutely, baby girl. How do you want me?”

“Fuck me from behind. Bend me over your desk?” You plead as Jaehyun drags his fingers over your tear stricken cheeks.

“Ask nicely first, baby girl.”

“Daddy please bend me over your desk and fu-uck me like the little slut I am,” you beg, writhing under him.

“There we go, slut.” Jaehyun pulls you up by the arms and drags you over to his desk. You whine as he roughly pushes you up against it, letting him manhandle you into the position he wants you in, and there’s a sick sort of pleasure in letting him move you around like you’re his toy. Your face meets the cold wood of his desk again, cheek pressed to the surface so that you can look back and see what Jaehyun is doing behind you. His member is already hardening again, thanks to some help from his messy jerks, and within a few moments, he’s pressing the head against your wet hole.

He starts with a slow push. Despite his preparations, your cunt is still extremely tight around him. He takes extra care in thrusting slowly into you until he’s buried all the way in you. You whine at the sensation of being completely filled up by Jaehyun, coupled with your sensitive state from already orgasming twice. He goes slow at first; shallow and dragged out thrusts until you both get used to the sensation. Then, his speed picks up, thick member dragging across your slick velvety walls. Moans tumble from your lips without ceasing. You can’t bother being quiet as the sensation of Jaehyun’s cock in your tight pussy is too good for you to think straight. He groans as your walls tighten around him, clenching in rhythm with his quick thrusts.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby girl. No mat–no matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always so tight. Is my cock the only one you take? Are you my dirty little slut?”

“Yes, yes, Daddy, yes. I am sir, I’m yours. Only yours. Fuuuck I’m all yours.” Jaehyun’s thrusts speed up as you speak those words.

“That’s right, baby girl. All mine.” He’s already starting to falter with the rhythm of his thrusts, and with the way his cock is curving against your g spot, you know that you’re going to hit another high any second now. “Cum for me, baby girl. Cum around Daddy’s cock, yea?” You release a whine. Jaehyun gives a particularly harsh thrust, and it’s enough to send you over the brink and into another wave of orgasming. Your sight all but goes white from the sensation, stars in the corners of your vision. Jaehyun follows close behind.‌ Your walls tightening and pulsating around his member brings him to another orgasm himself. Hot seed pushes into you, filling you up, and you moan at the warmth in you. Jaehyun pants above you. Sweat on his brow, white shirt clinging to his body and showing the tan skin underneath, he cages you in with his arms.

“Damn,” you exhale as the orgasm passes.

“Damn is right.” Jaehyun pulls his softening member out of you. The absence of his cock immediately makes you feel cold, especially as you feel his cum sliding out of your pussy as well. “You did so well, baby girl. So so well.”

“Thank you, sir,” you mumble, too spent to say anything else.

“Now I hate to break it to you, but there’s a 5 o’clock appointment I need you to go fetch for me.”

“Oh fuck off!”‌ You call out, huffing as Jaehyun’s hands run over the curve of your ass. He chuckles to himself. “You can go get him yourself and explain why you’re late.”

“That’s for my assistant to do.”

“Your assistant seems to do a lot of things for you,” you counter.

“She’s quite good at her job, I must say. Now, let’s get you cleaned up and dressed properly again?”

“As you wish, Mr. Jung.”

...

a/n: ...i have no words tbh buuuuut i hope you guys do!!! please let me know what you think and share your feedback with me!

all these works are copyright 2020 calypso, jungtaeyoongles, all rights reserved.

#nct #ksmutclub #kwritersworldnet #jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun oneshots #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun #nct fic #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct smut #nct 127 smut

[maplecornia]

chapter 33

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 1.86K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear | @mangminnie | @pixiekooo | @cana

"Everyone welcome Lin Yen. She will be your trainee from this day forward."

It's happened.

You're finally a trainee.

Your dream is finally coming true.

So why do you feel uneasy?

Looking up at Jungkook who walks just a few paces ahead of you for the millionth time, you swallow hard.

How did this happen?

.

.

.

"Well I've already said it once, I have too much on my plate to make time for her."

When BangPD said he was taking you to a meeting discussing your training, you didn't expect to find the rest of BTS there. Nor did you expect Yoongi to be glaring at you the entire time.

Avoiding his clear distrust, you tighten your jaw. You thought yesterday he and you had come to a mutual understanding, and at least respected the other...

Glancing his way you try hard not to shiver at the bone-chilling stare he sends your way.

Clearly, it seems nothing has changed.

Jin, noticing the exchange, rolls his eyes and nudges your arm. You turn to where he sits beside you and he gives you an encouraging smile. "Ignore him, Yen. He still hasn't gotten used to you here."

Well, that much is obvious.

But you do appreciate the way Jin is trying to look after you so you return the smile with a small one of your own. Glancing back towards Suga you try not to sigh.

Actually, you don't think he necessarily has a problem with you as a person, there seems to be more that's going on with him. Things that don't include you, but are targeted towards you. Almost as though he were dishing his frustrations out on you.

"If we look at this objectively, Suga, Jhope, and I would probably have the least time out of the rest of you to train her." Namjoon pipes up, his fingers tapping impatiently on the table. No doubt he has things to be doing as well but is too polite to voice his frustration at being kept from his work.

You glance towards him quite sympathetically. When you got here this morning, he was still working at his studio, multiple coffee cups and empty plates of food and snacks scattered around. You wish you could help him in some way, but the best help you probably could do is give him some space.

"Couldn't she pick up producing skills as your assistant?" Jungkook questions and Namjoon almost sighs as he massages his temple.

"It's not that simple..."

"And it's not as important."

At BangPD's interjection, the rest of the room turns towards him.

"Yen is training as a vocalist. She won't need to learn rapping skills, nor focus too much on producing at the moment. The only things she needs to worry about are singing and learning simple dance techniques."

You nod, opening your mouth to try and agree, but Yoongi cuts you off.

"Perfect. Then you won't need me."

As he pushes back his chair, standing to leave, you feel that you should be the one angry. Honestly, did you ask for his help? You've done nothing towards him for him to be treating you this way. Plus it's not okay for someone to just dish their frustration out on you. Even if you are the easiest target.

Don't be involved at all, see if I care.

However, before Yoongi can exit, Namjoon's stern voice holds him back.

"Enough Yoongi. I know you do not agree with this decision, but it has been made. This concerns all of us." Suga turns to him, opening his mouth as though to tell him off, but Namjoon raises his eyebrow.

"Unless you are no longer a part of BTS?"

At the rising tension in the room, you almost shrink into your chair. You almost think Yoongi will destroy RM with the voracious glare he wears on his face, but after a moment of silence, he walks back to his chair and sits down.

An uncomfortable silence ensues, and you can't help but feel as though you were an unwanted third party. How that is possible at a meeting discussing you, is as confusing to you and it is to anyone else.

"I wouldn't mind being her mentor."

Flinching in surprise, you turn to the person who spoke up beside you.

Jungkook.

"Jungkook, are you sure?" Hoseok asks him, and Jungkook turns to him with a smile and sparkling eyes. He seems to be filled to the brim with excitement, as though he could run laps around the building five times without breaking a sweat.

"Of course, I'm not the main vocalist for nothing. Plus, I'm center, so I'm fairly experienced in dancing and other positions." When he glances your way, you blink in surprise, blushing at the fact that he caught you staring.

"Actually, I was kind of hoping I could be her mentor." Confused and slightly touched at his behavior, you try hard to suppress the heat rising to your cheeks. He smiles before looking away from you and towards the rest of the table.

"After all, I'm the one who fought for her to become a trainee, it's only fitting. Isn't it?"

.

.

.

In the end, it was decided that Jhope and Jimin would be your dance mentors, Taehyung, Jin, and Jungkook would help with vocals, and when they could, Suga and Namjoon would teach you as much as they could about production. All of them would advise you on publicity and BangPD will help you closely when it came to details about your training and possible debut.

But Jungkook would be your main mentor.

Glancing his way, you wonder where he's taking you. After the meeting, he requested you follow him, and you thought he just needed to talk to you for a moment. You didn't think he would take you halfway around the building without so much of an explanation. You furrow your brow, pondering the multiple different things that have happened already, and it's only 9 am.

You could go for some caffeine right about now.

"...Yen?"

"Hm?" Dazedly, you nod your head his way, your mind not completely there with him at the moment. Jungkook smiles, almost affectionately.

"You didn't hear anything I just said, did you?"

Balking, you feel it as your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you chuckle nervously, avoiding his gaze.

"Uhm, no. I didn't. I'm sorry." You mutter and at your expression, he can't help as his grin grows wider. He finds within him a sudden urge to squeeze your face, and then immediately chastises the idea.

Boundaries, Jungkook.

"Jungkook?" you ask, breaking into his thoughts and he tries to ignore the way his heart bursts when you say his name.

"Yes?"

"What did you mean back there?"

"About what?"

Hesitating, you wonder if you should complete your question. But, seeing his curious wide eyes, you know you can't take it back now.

"When you said you fought for me to be a trainee."

"Oh, that." Clearing his throat, Jungkook avoids your eyes and he stumbles for the words to your question.

Taehyung told him not to say anything, but that doesn't mean that Jungkook can't tell Yen he was there.

"I'm the one who gave your recording to BangPD."

At the explanation, you look towards him with wide eyes, your heart pounding hard in your chest.

"So does that mean..." he smiles, probably guessing your next words and you find yourself dumbfounded.

He's the reason you're even a trainee.

He was there that day, he heard you sing.

Blushing you slap your hands on your cheeks, trying to hide the red that blossoms at the revelation. He chuckles at the attempt, which only worsens the embarrassment.

"How...?" you wonder, half under your breath.

"I was walking by the studio and heard your voice." When it's clear you still don't understand, he leans down, so that he's eye level with you only needing to whisper for you to hear him. "You had left the door open."

"Oh."

At your meek and small voice, he can't help but laugh as he pulls away to open a studio door and enter. Still trying to piece together the situation, you follow him, but stop when you recognize your surroundings.

"Is this..."

Turning to you from where he stands next to the chair amid the room, he smiles.

"So you figured it out." Stunned, you watch him as he takes in the room as though it were the birthplace of something amazing, something beautiful and sacred.

In a way it is.

It's the place he discovered you.

"This is where I first heard your voice."

You're afraid to move, afraid to speak.

When will there come a time where you believe all of this is real? More than a dream? When you look at Jungkook, his smile, that strange look in his eyes...You feel as though it's okay after all to trust that it's real after all.

That he's real.

"This is the birthplace of your dream."

You can't help but snort, and he looks towards you. You know he's trying to be sentimental, but...

"A little dramatic don't you think?"

He smirks at your comment, before turning back to the room.

"Is it? I find it fitting. Almost as though we've come full circle." As he raises those doe eyes back to you, you can feel your heart skip a beat. "I mean, who would've thought the same girl who spilled coffee all over me would change my life with her voice?"

Though it's a sweet sentence, you can feel the shameful embarrassment rising in the back of your throat as you shove his shoulder. He laughs at your reaction, holding up his hands in surrender.

"I was hoping you wouldn't remember." You nearly pout, turning your face away from him and crossing your arms in indignation in a childish way to punish him for teasing you. He chuckles at the attempt, but soon finds his laughter dying out as he stares at you.

Taking you in as though you were the most precious thing on Earth.

Maybe you are in his eyes.

His eyes soften and his lips part almost indistinctively as he reaches out to take your chin in his own hands. Slowly, he angles it towards him so that your face is mere inches apart from his, close enough that if he wanted to, he could place his lips on yours without even trying that hard.

Eyes wide, you stare into his as he smiles that same strange smile.

Maybe it's not that you don't know what it is, maybe it's that you don't want to try and figure it out. What lies in his eyes is something you'd rather keep hidden.

Right now, that's the only way for you to be okay.

Nevertheless, you don't want to push him away.

His eyes lidding as he brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear, he whispers in your ear once more. The delicate lure to it, the deadly husk, and almost indistinct heat almost makes you shiver, and you can feel yourself tense as though preparing for something that will never come.

"How could I forget?"

note: oh, so many jungkookie moments sajdlkfsjfk, dw though we will get more of the other members soon! i know i do a lot of the maknae line, but the hyung line is coming soon (more specifically we'll see some more jhope and jin, since we don't really see them now ;-;)

chapter 34 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

#{infinite stars} updated! #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction series #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #kim taehyung #ot7 #ot7 fanfic #bts ot7 #bts ot7 fanfic #wattpad #wattpad writer #ao3 #ao3 writer #bts x reader #bts x female!reader #writer #bts fluff #bts angst #fluff #angst #series #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 6)

<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>

Join the taglist in here (Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87)

“What did you fuck up?”, you heard Loki’s sharp whisper through the earbud, while you frantically searched through papers and papers and some more papers.

“I didn’t fuck up. I have the guy. I have information”, cleared Bucky. “Hey, DON’T MOVE”, he shouted at the kidnapped, cocking his gun. He cleared his throat before talking again. “Good and bad news”.

“Must be Christmas”, you said.

“No, Christmas is when you only have good news”, said Bucky.

“Not in my family. Generally, there was only bad news and food. Food was the good news”.

“I love how professional and focused on the mission you two are. Stark would be so proud”.

“Wait, I’m invested now. Tell me more about your family, y/n”.

“For the Norns, I don’t have much time. The information, Barnes”. You could hear Loki's footsteps resonate. According to plan, he should've been walking through a hall full of burocrats, so he was right; he did not have much time.

“Okay, so, I know who has the stick”.

“Good”.

“He’s dead”.

“Not so good”.

“Not really, no”.

“What do we do now?”.

An alarm on the building had set off and every door locked down, with a man on a speaker announcing the disappearance of an important object followed by an awfully accurate description of the three of you.

“We run, that’s what we do now”.

You didn’t have to say more. Bucky threw himself off the window before it finished closing. You looked around desperately, trying to find a way to free yourself from that office. Two security guards entered the room screaming for you to get on the floor, and instead you made an unstable wall with the desk and chairs, avoiding getting shot and giving you enough time to figure out some sort of weapon to take them down.

The watch was already used, the knives were useless if they had guns, you didn’t have a gun yourself (silly you), and the parachute was apparently not working anymore, so you couldn’t jump off the window like your teammates. Damn.

“By any chance”, you whispered through your microphone “could you tele…”, but Loki gave you no time to finish the sentence and teleported himself to the office, still in the shape of a security guard.

“My dearest friend”, he said to one of the shooters, opening his arms welcomingly, “how’s the family?”.

“What the fuck, Robert?” asked angrily one of the real guards. “How did you…”.

Loki kicked off his gun and touched his head with a halo of green lights, making him fall unconscious to the floor. He looked up and down at the second security guard and formed half a smile.

“And what about your wife? Is she well?”.

“You ain’t Robert, ain’t ya?”.

“Mmh, nah”.

You grabbed the second security guard from behind and made him trip, immobilizing his arms and legs, and held his own gun to his head. Loki watched you amused, and then transformed back into himself.

“Oh, there you are”, you greeted him. “Did Buck say anything about the walking dead?”.

“The… what?”.

“The man with the stick. If he’s dead, who activated the alarm? Someone has to have it”.

“He didn’t say anything else. Can’t you track it down?”.

“If I could, why would we have done all of this for?”.

“Point made”.

“I need to get back to our room, take some things off the checklist before going all in for a new plan”.

“Alri…”, he started saying, but his gaze fell back on the immobilized guard you were holding down. “What are you planning on doing with him? He saw our faces”.

“If you let me live I won’t talk about this at all”, he pleaded, face squished against the floor. “I have kids, please”.

“He’s lying, he has no kids”, he said with a neutral face, and you looked at him trying to tell him to communicate telepathically. Surprisingly, he understood. “What?”.

“I’m not killing him, what do we do?”.

“Just kill him, what’s all the fuss about?”. You looked at him horrorized and he rolled his eyes “alright, just threaten him enough”.

You let him go, still pointing the gun at him, and gestured to the door so he could leave. When he reached for the door knob, you shot twice at the wall, mere inches from his head, and he froze in place.

“Talk and I’ll find you”, you threatened.

“I won't say a word, I promise”.

You looked at Loki and he nodded, letting you know the man was telling the truth. You kept your eyes fixed on him while he ran away, terrified. Must be new, you thought. Loki grabbed your waist.

“What the Hell are you doing?”, you pushed him away.

“Teleporting us, as you asked”.

“You have to grab me to do that?”.

“I don’t have to. It’s so you get stability”.

“Oh. Give me a big bear hug, then. No, better, let’s cuddle” you spat with sarcasm. He sighed annoyed, massaging his temples.

“Fine. I’m not even touching you”.

As he teleported both of you, you felt your whole body tear its own cells apart and dissolve, and then regenerate them. Your head spinned like it never has, and something hit your head; but you weren’t sure if it was the floor, a wall or the roof, for your sense directions were nowhere to be found. You took a few seconds to compose yourself before opening your eyes once everything stopped moving. When you finally managed to realize where your head even was, your eyes met with Loki’s, who was holding back a smirk with his arms crossed.

“Reconsidering that cuddle next time, are you?”.

“That was… hilarious. Such a shame I missed the previous part to give me context, though”, said Bucky from the counter of the hotel room, munching on some chips. “Look, the tiny fridge had these. You were right, they’re actually great”.

“Yeah. Grab whatever, they’re on Stark’s”, you said, still with your head a bit fuzzed. Loki offered his hand to help you get up but you did it yourself. He sighed.

“How do you fit your clothes with that huge ego of yours?”.

“I don’t, I walk around naked”, you answered, opening the nearest laptop and starting to work on the checklist.

That night was like the last one. Dark, silent and with your head full on the work. Bucky was barely snoring, and Loki was sitting on his bed reading a book. Every once in a while you glanced up your work to look at how painfully beautiful he was. You hated every thought about it, of course, but you couldn’t deny his sight grew on you a bit. He was an asshole, of course. A parasite on your head. An inconvenience. A distraction, sometimes. But the warm light of the bed lamp and the shadows it formed on half of his face enhanced his features, almost like a sculpture, a piece of art.

While you thought of that you checked on his expressions, making sure he wasn’t listening to your highly embarrassing thoughts.

After a few hours, Bucky had already woken up and you were still spread on the floor, surrounded by the files and laptops from before. The light conversation had caught half the attention of the God, who was still reading peacefully. He seemed so calm you wondered what kept him up anyways.

“You think he still has it on him?”, asked Bucky, changing his shirt.

“I think it’s a possibility. I’m tracking his body down. Should be in the morgue by now, maybe they haven’t taken off his clothes yet. But if not, the security cameras would have recorded who took it from the body”.

“Groovy”.

"Oh my God, James".

"What?".

"What does groovy even mean?".

"You know... it's like saying cool beans".

"Coo... alright".

After a while, you collected all the data you needed for tomorrow. You were so exhausted your eyes were getting dry and blurry. Loki was still reading in that same place, not even fazed by the amount of hours that had happened. You got up to clean the dishes from the last meal, and he lifted his gaze up from the book.

“Wait”, he stopped you. With a wrist movement, the dishes got as clean as they could get and arranged on the shelf. You chuckled.

“I wish I had that ability”.

“Are you going to sleep now?”.

“A few hours”.

“Sleep here”, he said from his bed. You looked at Bucky’s; he fell asleep back again.

“You haven’t slept yet. I don’t want to occupy your bed”.

“I won’t, don’t worry”, you nodded, kind of worried he might pass out of tiredness in the middle of the mission. Why the hell was he not sleeping? “If it doesn’t bother you, I’d rather finish this book on here too”.

“I think there’s enough space”.

He moved and gave you space for half of the tiny bed, and you laid by his side with your arms crossed and a leg on top of the other. He went back to his book, and even though he was sitting and your sight couldn’t reach the pages, you were sure it was in Old Norse.

“What are you reading?”.

He didn’t answer right away. Doubtfully as in to share it with you or not, he then proceeded.

“Hamlet. It’s a translation in Old Norse from an author I adore. I’d say it’s an even better version than Shakespeare’s”.

You felt yourself about to smile. You tried not to, but you probably did. That was your favourite piece of literature of all times. You wondered how could that have gotten to Asgardian hands, and why would he (certainly a Midgardian hater) want to read Earth’s literature. You were so curious in that version. Was it really that good, that would be better than Shakespeare himself? Sadly, you didn’t even know how to say hello in that language.

“Do you like it so far?”.

“I’m re-reading it. Brings good memories”, he said with a subtle smile he had hoped you wouldn’t notice. But you did. Something in your chest warmed up a bit and you shook it off. No, no. Not feelings. Don’t confuse your physical attraction, don’t feed your touch starved soul. No. You had to repeat to yourself a couple of times. You were just very, very tired.

“Brings good memories to me too. I love this book”. You figured it was alright to open up a little. The situation was relaxed enough. He wasn’t snarky or avoidant. He looked… melancholic. Sad, even. Like a facet of himself he didn’t allow everyone to see.

You connected with that. Maybe you could even relate to him in some way. For years, you had a feeling of something not adding up quite right. A longing for something you couldn’t exactly pin up. Melancholy for a blank space.

But there you were, barely knew him for three days yet felt close enough. Not too much. Just a feeling. Just the traces of something that maybe happened in another life. But in this one, you would get the mission done and leave. So don’t get attached, you ordered yourself.

“It’s a really good version”.

“Wish I could read it but I don’t know Old Norse”, you said slower than you intended. Loki chuckled at your tiredness. Maybe you could push your curiosity a little further. What was the damage? That he could just say ‘piss off’ or something like that? “What good memories does it bring to you?”.

He sighed and muttered almost to himself “I used to read it to my beloved”.

You almost gasped, surprised he actually answered you. You didn’t ask for more. It was already a lot he had just trusted you with. He told you he had a beloved. You didn’t even know he had a lover, but of course he had. He was nearly a thousand years old; why wouldn’t he? Did he lose that lover, in past tense?

Curiosity grew bigger on you, but fear pushed you aback. But the questions floated around in your head as a lullaby. Your head started to weigh a little more on the pillow and everything happened slightly slower. Loki closed the book and left it resting on his lap. He whispered “I feel you have questions”, and you denied it with your head. Your eyelids fell heavier than before.

“I’m mmnmnnhnm”, you managed to sort of say before getting knocked down by sleep. You heard his laughter, but nothing more after that.

#loki #loki of asgard #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki mcu #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x y/n #bucky barnes is an old man omg

[honeymoonjin]

pairing: jimin x yoongi || genre: smut - nsfw 18+ word count: 6.7k warnings: dom!jimin, sub!yoongi, exhibitionism, BDSM, sub!jk feature very briefly, masochism, pain play, impact play, spanking, orgasm control/denial, untouched orgasm, frotting (i hope that’s right, i had to google it), crying during sex but in a fun liberating way u feel me, praise, mean-mugging, pet names

summary: jimin is used to keeping his professional bdsm life and his domestic married life separate, but when his husband yoongi comes in after a hard day at work, he wants to blur those lines. 

A/N: i wrote this for the lovely and talented @joonsbean​ so thank her for inspiring me to actually write something, also this is unedited bc i just sat down for 6 hours to write this and i am not willing to stare at it a moment longer

---

After a particularly resonant flick of the whip, Jimin eyes the way Jungkook's calves tense, left foot tapping the floor in an uneven stutter. He's starting to really feel it now.

He absentmindedly reaches his hand out to smooth the reddened flesh of Jungkook's ass, gently cooing at him quiet enough that his rapt audience won't hear. While the eager submissive was the biggest masochist of the regulars, and he was likely miles away from safewording, as a friend Jimin knew the long-haired boy had three hours of lectures the next day. He'd probably relish the sore ass and take it like a champ, but Jimin was soft on him, so he knew it was time to wrap it up.

Tilting his chin towards the dark, almost purplish streak just above Jungkook's thigh, he raises his voice to address the onlookers. "As you can see, when there's only one fall, like with a whip or a switch, the impact feels a lot sharper and concentrated. The thinner it is, that effect is only amplified. For that reason, I really recommend against switches and whips as a first-timer or if you're testing it out." Jimin can't help but beam at the way every person in the crowd listens to his spiel with clear enthusiasm. He got off on this kind of spotlight in a different way to the usual exhibitionism. Sharing his passion never failed to cheer him up. "Even though floggers can look more intense, as we saw when we were starting out, the impact is more distributed, more of a thud than a sting. Now," he breaks off, giving Jungkook's tender ass a final playful swat, making the boy jump, knuckles white as they clench the back of the chair he's bent over, "let's give our little prince a big round of applause for being so helpful for us today."

Jungkook positively keens at the cheers and wolf whistles that erupt from the crowd of at least thirty, his back arching and face buried between his meaty upper arms to hide the blush. Jimin gently massages the heated skin one last time, whispering instructions to head off to the side where his usual dom, Namjoon, was no doubt waiting.

The two had been playing for almost a year now, but Namjoon was still hesitant to venture into the heavier sadism that Jungkook sometimes needed, and the three of them had found a happy medium where Jungkook helped Jimin out with demonstrations, and Jimin indulged Jungkook's occasional desire for more intense pain play. As a thank you, Namjoon even helped Jimin out with his taxes just the month before, and Jimin quite often allowed them to reserve their favourite play rooms out of courtesy. A mutually beneficial arrangement, and it certainly came in handy to have Namjoon deal with aftercare while Jimin still had his demonstration to wind up.

Swinging the chair that Jungkook was previously bent over, Jimin takes a seat facing the audience and quirks a brow. "Alrighty, before we wrap up and I set you back into the wild, any questions?"

This line always had very different responses. Once, on a basic self-bondage informational session, there were so many single kinksters interested that there ended up being almost an hour of questioning, followed by an impromptu tutorial of safe handcuff use. More commonly, Jimin fielded a few confirming questions about what he'd shown, or something related but not overly relevant to the main topic at hand. More often than not, though, he'd find a string of people awkwardly hovering around him after the crowd had dissipated, too nervous to ask their question in front of the others.

This time, however, a single hand is thrust into the air, coming from the rough back third of the gathering.

"Yes?" Jimin calls out, squinting past the few stage lights and into the darkened crowd. He can't quite make out the face, but as soon as the rumbly voice begins to speak, he doesn't need the visual to recognise it.

"I was just wondering," his husband calls out, "could I speak to you in private?"

Jimin is so startled to hear Yoongi that for a moment he freezes on stage, totally silent. Never once had his husband of four years step a single foot into the dungeon Jimin worked at. Not intolerant of the kink world, Yoongi was simply paranoid about being recognised - a renowned human rights lawyer showing up to a BDSM dungeon dressed in leathers was a tabloid field day waiting to happen - and was happy for Jimin to continue working there whenever he wished.

Now, though, that unspoken rule that had kept these two worlds of Jimin's separate had shattered with a single question, and he felt cold shock drip down his spine.

"Uh," he begins eloquently, blinking himself out of it and plastering a collected smile on again, "of course! I'll be right with you once the show ends."

Jimin closes the session in a daze, answering a few questions about physical aftercare and the best materials and brands for impact play equipment on autopilot. It feels like an eternity passing in a single second, and before he's even processed it, the audience have moved on, and his husband is placing a gentle kiss of greeting on his temple, the same way he would when he'd get home from work in the evenings.

Mere minutes after he'd been in his usual dominant persona, Jimin feels himself melting like candy floss in Yoongi's arms, wrapping around him in their usual casual intimacy. "How are you here?" Jimin asks softly, snaking his arms under Yoongi's slate grey suit jacket, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, even through the expensive cotton shirt. "You're still dressed for work, baby."

Yoongi tenses slightly, gazing around the room. A few people are still milling around in small groups, chatting, but this close to the stage, him and Jimin are out of earshot. Still, he speaks lowly, dipping into the Daegu drawl that only makes an appearance when he's too stressed to think clearly. "I took a sick day. Or, I suppose, sick afternoon," he corrects, brows pinched together. "Had to get out. Can we- Is there a place we can have some privacy, please?"

Wide-eyed, Jimin jumps up out of Yoongi's embrace. "Oh, definitely, sorry!" He tamps down his rising concern by hooking his arm around Yoongi's, locking their fingers tightly as he leads his husband out of the auditorium and down a hall.

Being a matinee opening, the dungeon isn't too packed. Jimin prefers working the day shifts, likes that everything feels a little more personal and open. Nights, especially themed ones, get so busy that the gear and rooms have to be booked sometimes weeks in advance. Jimin does his fair share of DMing (they need all the help they can get) but doesn't like to run any scenes himself in the relative chaos.

But at 2pm on a Tuesday, it's easy enough to slip into one of the private rooms, switching the sign to occupied. There's no lock on the door for safety purposes, but nobody will dare enter while it's taken.

Yoongi steps in, eying the room with surprise. It's a relatively open space, with the walls lined with bookcases on one end, and a large wooden desk with some filing cabinets on the other. The desk itself has a comfortable-looking desk chair, and the opposite side has a single leather armchair like something from a therapist's office.

Although there is a wide window, it's covered with blinds, and Jimin knows from experience that it opens directly onto a brick wall for privacy. Instead, the room is lit from above with ceiling lights that are adjustable by a dimmer. Jimin leaves it bright.

Yoongi slowly makes his way to the black leather armchair, sitting down on it and leaning forward to inspect the desk. Absurdly large, it is mostly uncovered except for a diary with some unreadable scrawls on it, an ancient laptop that doesn't turn on, and a ruler. "Is this your office?" Yoongi asks incredulously.

Jimin cackles before he can help himself, moving forward to perch on the edge of the desk in front of Yoongi. "Does it look like I'd get anything done here? It's a play room, baby."

"Play room?" his husband replies dully, but Jimin doesn't miss the way his eyes are zoned in on Jimin's body, the intimidating leather jacket fixed with a tightly buckled belt around his waist, the skintight black jeans that barely contained his thighs, and perfectly glossed black dress shoes, his calling card amongst the typical stomping boots or knife-thin stilettos that most other doms wore. He always got dressed at the dungeon, leaving the house in unassuming sweatpants and a hoodie, so he gets no little satisfaction in relishing his husband's first reaction to the getup.

"That's right," he confirms with a smirk, crossing his legs. "We have five of them at the moment, though the sixth one is almost ready for use. This one is for your typical CEO or professor roleplays, we have a medical one, an interrogation one," Jimin rattles them off on his fingers, watching the way Yoongi's eyes bug out at each addition, "just a basic bedroom one for the vanilla stuff, one that actually looks like a dungeon, and the new one is gonna be an outdoor one."

"Outdoor?" Yoongi asks with a unsteady voice, before shaking his head to clear the thoughts. "Anyway, here is fine, I just- I had to get away from work, Minnie, and I... I was thinking..."

Jimin frowns in sympathy, leaning forward to stroke the back of Yoongi's hand. "I can leave early, I don't have anything else booked today, I was mostly planning on sticking to the social lounge-"

"I don't wanna go home," Yoongi slips in hurriedly, flipping his hand on the arm of the chair to link their fingers together tightly, though his eyes don't leave Jimin's for a second. "I know that you like to keep this job and our own love life separate, and I'm not going to force you, but- I came here because I want to submit to you."

Jimin's eyes widen, his breath catching in his chest. A switch at heart, Jimin had always found it a nice balance to indulge his dominant side here at work, and return home for Yoongi to take care of him, and it had always worked well. Even before they were serious, right in the early days of fucking like rabbits and pretending they weren't entirely smitten, Yoongi had always easily taken that more dominant role, though most of their sex to this day was far less kinky than the kind of demonstrations Jimin ran here. What Yoongi was asking wasn't just to be pampered and taken care of, but to be taken control of. And Jimin couldn't deny the ball of heat that was quickly building inside of him at that thought.

"Baby," he sighs, forcing himself to keep professionalism in mind, "I can't- We can't do anything here without you filling out some paperwork. The list of kinks and limits at the least. Not just as an employee, but as your husband, I gotta keep you safe."

"I know," Yoongi insists, and he frees his hand from Jimin's grip just long enough to plunge a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out a tightly folded piece of paper, handing it to Jimin.

Oddly enough, the folds are worn, not crisp, and as Jimin unfolds it, the text - printed in 12 point Times New Roman, because of course Yoongi would type it up with perfect formatting - has lost the freshly-printed gloss.

"I've been working up the courage to come here for months, Jimin-ah," Yoongi explains in a shy but determined voice. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to feel pressured at all either way, but please know that this is something that I've researched, and that I'm serious about." His solemn expression turns slightly cheeky, almost impish. "You literally make a living domming people, Minnie. I've been fantasising about it long before I even realised I wanted it."

A thrill of arousal runs through Jimin, straight between his legs, and he tightens his thighs, taking a settling breath. "Oh, baby," he coos, eyes dropping to read Yoongi's well-documented and organised list of kinks and limits, scanning over some surprising - and not-so-surprising - tidbits, "I'm gonna take such good care of you."

The air rushes out of Yoongi's lungs as he unconsciously scoots forward in the chair, leaning in. "Do we- Do we just start now, or do you need to go get some-" he breaks off, blushing violently, "some equipment?"

Jimin breaks into a broad smile, eyes crinkling as he steps forward, steps close, ringed fingers slipping into Yoongi's hair on either side, tipping his husband's face up as his chin rests on Jimin's lower abdomen. "Oh, my big boy wants to play with some toys, huh?" Jimin can feel when Yoongi swallows hard, his eyes not glossy with subspace, instead keen and sharp with pointed desire. "Don't worry, baby, this room isn't as empty as you think."

When he steps away, dropping all contact, Yoongi slumps like a puppet with cut strings, catching himself before he slips off the chair, instead lying back against it, chest heaving beneath the starch white of his dress shirt.

Jimin makes his way first to the bookshelves, looking back over his shoulder to catch Yoongi's reaction as he finds a notch in the framing and pulls, revealing that they aren't real shelves at all, simply disguised cabinets that swing open to reveal the hidden delights inside. The three closest to the desk are filled with clothes of all sizes, office-wear spanning pencil skirts to neckties to blazers, a few frumpy pieces that remind Jimin of dorky professors, even some school uniforms, cut far shorter than regulation.

With a grin, Jimin pulls at a pleated plaid skirt, smirking at Yoongi. "In the mood for dress-up, baby? Show off those pretty legs of yours."

Yoongi, still with some wits about him, narrows his eyes with a mock scowl, his disapproval clear.

Jimin sighs out wistfully, but lets it go. "Another time, maybe." Ignoring Yoongi's light scoff, he nudges the doors shut with his foot one at a time and moves to the last one, where the facade of stacked books hides a series of hooks nailed into the back wall.

Jimin doesn't need to even face Yoongi to know he's squirming in his chair - the squeaking leather gives it away. Strung up are floggers, whips, switches, and neatly coiled bundles of rope, catalogued by length. His husband had expressed interest in both impact play and bondage, several different types of both, and so it's no surprise that the sight of those fantasies had Yoongi breathing heavily. He leaves that cupboard open.

"There are so many things we could play with in here, baby," Jimin assures, patting the folded piece of paper that he'd slipped into his own pocket, "and your list was pretty extensive, so before we get started, any particular preference?"

Yoongi swallows again, hair slightly rucked up from Jimin's hands. Jimin can't wait to see it totally mussed up, see his husband in ruins, see him love it. With wary eyes on Jimin as he moves behind the desk towards the filing cabinets, Yoongi nods. "The- what you were doing with that guy on stage. I- I want that."

Jimin blinks, turning his back to his husband to mask his surprise, fingers hooking the edge of the top drawer of one of the cabinets, each one labelled alphabetically. "Is that so? We did a lot on that stage, baby, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

Yoongi is silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound as Jimin carefully slides the drawer open, revealing neatly sectioned rows of anal plugs. He grins. A for Anal, B for Bondage, C for Chastity. The designers really took their job seriously, and he could appreciate the humour in it.

He lets Yoongi take his time, knowing that saying something is often the hardest part. Instead, he notes the location of the drawer marked P, and turns back to his husband.

Looking incredibly small, tucked up on the intentionally oversized armchair, Yoongi clears his throat, making shy eye contact. "The paddles," he says in a high tone, like he's unsure he's even using the correct word, "I want you to- to hit me with them like you did him."

"You want me to spank that pretty little ass of yours?" Jimin confirms, loving the way his husband goes bright pink.

"Y-yeah," he replies breathily, dropping his gaze. "Will you?"

Despite the raging fire inside him, Jimin's heart leaps fondly, so in love with his husband and all his endearing mannerisms. "Of course, baby. But let's start slow, hm? Gotta make your first time special, don't we?"

Yoongi laughs, then, full of air and barely audible, his lips lilting in a small smile that still shows his teeth.

Jimin tilts his head to the side. "What?"

With a tiny head shake, Yoongi contains his grin. "I just really wanna kiss you right now."

Jimin is moving before he's even finished speaking, his hip barely missing the corner of the desk in his haste to join his husband, knees straddling his lap without hesitation, holding those soft cheeks in both hands as he presses his lips firmly against Yoongi's, eyes fluttering shut.

Their parting kiss before Yoongi left for work this morning feels too long ago, and for a moment their new arrangement is forgotten as they fall into their usual motions, years of marriage making every inch of Yoongi's lips feel familiar, the bump of their noses and brush of eyelashes like home even in such a different environment.

With no rush, Jimin lets himself indulge in it, burying one hand in Yoongi's hair, carding through the choppy black locks that are no longer gelled back. His other hand slides down Yoongi's jaw, neck, and chest, tugging at the knot of his tie to loosen it. He makes no effort to be gentle, and his husband just groans into Jimin's mouth at the rough treatment.

It's all too easy to shift into his dom space, a practiced scale of gradually increasing intensity. It begins with the tie, but soon enough Jimin punctuates their ongoing kiss with hard sucks and quick nips of teeth, Yoongi tipping his chin up to drown in it more. Testing the waters, Jimin rocks his hips once against Yoongi's taut crotch and yanks once on a fistful of hair, baring the pale expanse of Yoongi's neck.

The debauched lawyer bucks beneath him, hands flying to grip tightly at Jimin's waist. His long, beautiful fingers and wide palm have always made Jimin feel weak at the knees, and feeling them grasp at him not in command but in desperation feels addictive.

"You like that?" he breathes, voice low enough to almost growl, and Yoongi shivers as he nods his affirmation. "Good," Jimin praises, and dives down, teeth grazing down the sensitive skin of Yoongi's throat, skimming until he feels the throb of his pulse point. Yoongi can't risk marks at work, certainly not in court, but it's a Friday, and Jimin is feeling more possessive than usual. He nips lightly but laps at the skin thoroughly, knowing the best he can get away with is a reddened bite mark which would fade over the weekend. The hickies were best saved for other areas, he knew.

Yoongi is panting like a horse now, air punched through his nostrils as he bites down hard on his own swollen lip. Jimin knows the effect he has on his subs, and grins against the glistening wet skin of Yoongi's neck at the hardness that has grown between his legs. "Wuh-want more, Minnie," he gasps out, "need more."

Jimin hums, making sure Yoongi can feel the vibrations in the hollow of his throat, sliding up to press kisses to that hyper-sensitive place just behind Yoongi's ear that always made him tremble.

It doesn't disappoint, Yoongi letting out a shaky breath as his arms wrap around Jimin's waist, trying to bring him closer.

Jimin doesn't let him, though, pulling back to sit on his haunches, running a thumb down Yoongi's reddened lower lip to watch the way it springs back into place. Yoongi sits still, eyes cloudy as he lets his dom for the night play with him. The thought pleases Jimin; that Yoongi truly was wanting this, truly was willing to give up control to him.

He spares a glance down between his own thighs, where the cool grey of Yoongi's slacks makes no attempt at hiding his bulging erection. Pouting in sympathy, Jimin reaches out with a single finger to trace the outline, watching the muscles in his husband's thighs tense as he fights to stay still. "So hard already, baby," Jimin drawls, "do you think that pretty little cock of yours can wait its turn while I spank you, hm? Can it be patient for me?"

Yoongi flushes, whining Jimin's name under his breath. "Yes," he admits, huffing out a reluctant sigh.

"Yes what?"

Yoongi grimaces at Jimin, but the dom just raises an expectant brow. "Yes, my- my pretty little cock can be patient for you," Yoongi murmurs in the quietest voice he can manage, cheeks red hot.

"That's my boy," Jimin beams, rewarding his husband by popping the button and pulling down the zip on the fly of Yoongi's slacks, releasing some of the pressure. Yoongi groans, deep in his throat, but his relief is quickly thwarted once Jimin stands up off him.

Making his way back to the filing cabinets, Jimin quickly slides open the one labeled P. Splayed out neatly lie five different paddles. Three are plastic, one a basic rounded shape, another that same shape only with several small holes drilled through for a sharper impact, and a final one a rectangular shape. The next one is hard wood, heavy, Jimin recalls, and the one tucked at the back is a softly upholstered pleather one for beginners. Then there's the ruler, of course, though that's a little cheesy for the current mood.

He assesses the five inside at his leisure, knowing every moment of anticipation will feel like an eternity to his husband, and finally makes a choice. He slides the cabinet drawer closed.

Yoongi makes a wounded, cut-off noise in his throat, but Jimin sends him a firm gaze.

"I'll give you what you want, baby," Jimin assures, wetting his lips, "but first I want to feel you myself. Pants and underwear off, jacket off, I want you bent over my desk."

Yoongi sucks in a sudden breath, but stands up on wobbly legs and slips off his blazer. It's probably too expensive to be dumping it on the chair behind him, but Yoongi clearly isn't worried about that as he kicks off his shoes and pants too, only hesitating once his fingers are hooked on the elastic waistband of his underwear.

"Off," Jimin demands harshly, "I won't ask again."

This time Yoongi obeys without delay, and Jimin takes great pleasure in watching the way his husband's cock leaps up once it's freed, pretty and pink and wetter than he'd ever seen it before. Though Yoongi always tended to top, his cock was smaller - more slender, at least - than Jimin's, but he loved it, loved that a hasty three fingers was enough prep on those times that they just couldn't wait to devour each other.

Now, though, with mussed hair and wrinkled shirt, naked from the waist down bar a pair of black ankle socks, Jimin's husband looked positively adorable in the most erotic way, and Jimin wanted nothing more than to make him wait, make him work to cum.

When Yoongi folds himself over the desk, side-on to Jimin to make use of the length of the surface, his hands awkwardly hover on either side of him, keeping himself slightly upright still. The back of his shirt is just long enough to cover the tops of his cheeks, and the sight of his rounded ass and dripping cock peeking through is enough to make Jimin actively restrain himself, taking a moment to breathe and appreciate this opportunity.

He steps forward, planting a hand between Yoongi's shoulder blades and presses, slow enough that Yoongi has time to move his face to the side to avoid banging his chin, but firm enough that there's no resisting. Yoongi goes willingly, however, his back arching as the table is just lower than his hips. Like this, no fabric obstructs Jimin's view, and he hums, pleased. "Good boy."

Yoongi trembles, his legs tight together and knees shaking just slightly. He's nervous at the vulnerable position, but no less aroused for it.

With the tip of his shoe, Jimin guides Yoongi's legs apart, until his socked feet are wider than his hips, until he needs to lean his weight onto the desktop to keep stable.

"That's it," Jimin praises, "my perfect little slut. So obedient."

Yoongi's right knee buckles at the exact moment that he hears the pet name, and Jimin grins. The piece of paper in his pocket had a long list of suggestions for names he was okay being called, and the dom couldn't resist picking out his favourite. The perfect mix of praise and degradation, it flowed so well on his tongue; the smooth, melodic sounds punctuated by the sharp hit of the t. Slut. Jimin muffles a groan, pressing on his own straining erection.

Unable to help himself, he reaches out, both hands grabbing at the plush ass cheeks in front of him, spreading them to watch the way Yoongi clenches at the sudden exposure. This must be what he looks like when they play together, Jimin thinks. He wonders if Yoongi is enjoying the change in pace just as much as he is.

"I'm going to start you off with just my hands, baby," he introduces, running a palm under the hem of his shirt and up Yoongi's spine to watch the way he shivers. "I'm sure you're well aware of the traffic light system, hm? Tell me what the colours mean."

Yoongi shifts, fingers curling uselessly against the tabletop as his eyes remain squeezed shut. "Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green means go," he recites, the exact phrasing off the dungeon's website, and Jimin bends down to press a single soft kiss on the top of Yoongi's ass as a reward, making him twitch violently. "Fuck, Jimin-ah," he sighs, arching his back even more.

Jimin grins. "Good. I'm adding another colour, just for you," he explains. "Gold. Can you guess what gold means?"

Yoongi swallows, shifts his weight, and shakes his head.

Jimin digs his fingers into the flesh of Yoongi's ass, watching them pillow in roughly. "Gold means more. Gold means harder. Okay?"

Yoongi nods quickly, hair even more tangled with every movement.

"Good boy," Jimin croons, and without further comment his left hand rises and comes down in a single strike.

Yoongi seizes up for a second at the shock of it, but there's no power behind the hit, and his brain realises a moment later that no pain follows the loud noise. He huffs in need and pushes his hips back, silently asking for more. "Gold, g-gold," he mutters offbeat, already panting.

Jimin hums in pleasure, and swats his right cheek this time, feeling a sting bloom across his palm. Still not nearly the hardest he can go, it's clearly not enough for Yoongi, as he remains stoic, waiting for more.

The next time, Jimin lets his hand really catch the air on the way down, but he doesn't stop at one hit, raining down three in quick succession on the same spot. Yoongi breathes through the first impact, freezes in surprise at the second one, and an unbidden moan falls out of his mouth at the third.

"Mm, that's better, isn't it?" Jimin muses rhetorically, soothing the slightly pinked patch of skin with his warmed hand. "Just need a bit more pain to let go."

"Please," Yoongi breathes, "jus' keep going."

"Bossy," Jimin teases, "I'm meant to be giving you orders, baby. If you don't quit it, I might not give you what you want at all."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, ple-please hit me again," Yoongi begs mindlessly, and Jimin can't help but indulge him, his husband sounding so pretty when he whines.

When he returns to spanking again, it's in earnest. Instead of pausing to check in each time, he relies on his husband's telling cues to moderate it, as well as the sweet pleas of gold, gold every time Jimin spent too long between swats.

Much like the rest of him, Yoongi's ass blooms candied pink, and with every strike, Jimin can't help but venture further, wanting to colour him in all over. The spanks that fall on Yoongi's upper thighs make him restless, squirming and moaning wordlessly. The ones that land on the fatty portion of his ass have him sighing happily, crooked smile slicked in drool against the wood of the desk.

The two of them slip into an unspoken rhythm for a while, alternating these hits on either side, of varying number and intensity, until Yoongi has almost fallen into a trance of sorts, mouth hanging open slackly as a whine or moan or whimper is falling out of his mouth with every single thwack.

Jimin's arm begins to tire, and just as he pauses to shake out the joints, Yoongi pants a, "wait, wait," making him pause.

It takes a moment for Yoongi to catch his breath, but Jimin waits patiently, scanning his ass and thighs for any sign of something that could be causing undue comfort, but he comes up short. With a weak, slurred voice, Yoongi lets out a sob. "I wanna use the paddle, Minnie, I wanna feel it," he pleads, "I've h-had enough of the spanking."

Jimin furrows his brows in concern, massaging out the sore tissue as Yoongi goes lax beneath him. "If you've had enough, baby, we should stop. I don't wanna push you."

Yoongi actually tears up, biting hard on his lip as he shakes his head. "Please, Minnie, just a few times, I just need it to be- to be heavy. I don't know, but I need it. Gold, please gold."

"Okay," Jimin is agreeing softly, squatting down to press reassuring kisses against the hot flesh, feeling his own palm stinging. He leaves only to slide open the drawer of paddles, selecting the wooden one. He knew from subspace himself that sometimes those base, thoughtless needs stemmed from something deeper, from an emotional need tangled up daily life. Once, in the early days of doing demonstrations at the dungeon, Jimin had gotten stage fright and done such a poor job of a fingering tutorial that the sweet sub he was working on didn't even cum. He'd come home to Yoongi bawling in humiliation, and his husband had lain him down on their bed and made him cum so many times that he couldn't even think, couldn't move a single limb. Now, Jimin had no doubt that the need to feel a heavy impact had something to do with the reason Yoongi had taken an uncharacteristic sick day.

Talking about it wouldn't help, would only break the escapism of the scene, so Jimin just runs the face of the wooden paddle over Yoongi's sore ass, letting him grow accustomed to the feel and texture. "Just two hits," Jimin declares, "one on each cheek. No more. Focus on them, baby. Eyes closed, just feel them."

He waits until Yoongi settles, spreading his legs wider with wiggling toes, and catching his breath, one hand pressed over his teary eyes.

Jimin swings the paddle backwards, not up, and lets it impact on Yoongi's left cheek first, a wet, strangled moan leaving his husband's mouth at the thuddy feel. The wooden paddle didn't hurt like spanking or a lighter paddle. It was about the weighty feel of it hitting your skin, a light hit so as not to cause bruising.

A line of tension disappears between Yoongi's clothed shoulders, the sweaty fabric clinging to his back. He's calmed down, fully, waiting patiently for the second strike. The second Jimin rains that final hit, he drops the paddle onto the carpeted floor, exhausted himself, and moves around to the side of the desk, bending awkwardly over it to press his mouth to Yoongi's, who makes a muffled sound of surprise before responding in turn.

Jimin's hand is curled around the nape of his husband's neck, keeping him close as tears mingle with spit, their kiss salty and desperate.

He feels a vibration between them before he hears anything, has to focus hard to hear Yoongi as he chants over and over like a prayer, thanking Jimin.

He slows the kiss after a sweet eternity, letting their heartbeats return to normal. Jimin's own eyes sting, love and concern a potent combination, but as the adrenaline settles back to normal, Yoongi calms down too, and seems to come back to himself.

He pulls away to let out a tired breath, laughing voicelessly. "Fuck," Yoongi curses with eyes still closed in bliss. "I get it now."

Jimin beams, a chuckle leaving his own lips as he sees the peace on his husband's face. After a moment, though, a frown appears as Yoongi furrows his brows. "What is it?"

"My dick hurts," Yoongi whines, managing to get his elbows under him to lift his chest from the table, head in his hands.

Jimin startles, standing bolt upright as he rushes down to look for any injury. "Oh shit, did I hit it?"

The laugh returns, bubbling out of Yoongi as he turns himself with great effort onto his back, chest still rising and falling dramatically. "No, Jimin-ah, don't worry," he assures, wincing when his ass-cheeks meet the unforgiving surface of the desk. "But if I don't cum soon, I think it's gonna explode."

Jimin's mouth falls open, relief and disbelief flooding his veins equally as he's faced with Yoongi's cock, so flushed with blood it's almost purple in places. "I- Okay, do you- do you want me to get you off, or do you want to keep playing?"

Yoongi looks at him like he's insane. "I mean... Preferably both, Minnie."

After the moment of scare, it takes surprisingly little time before that thrum of arousal is dialed up again, and Jimin smirks, running his hands up and down Yoongi's inner thighs to watch the way he naturally and obediently parts them for him.

"Do you know what I realised, baby?" Jimin coos, stubbornly avoiding the weeping cock in front of him. Yoongi mutters a weak response. "I realised that so far I've been doing all the work so far, haven't I? That isn't really fair, wouldn't you agree?"

Wary, Yoongi pauses and nods, the blur of tears long since replaced by the haze of arousal, of subspace beginning to creep in once more.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Jimin drawls, flattening a hand heavy on the soft flesh just above Yoongi's cock, making the man moan and wriggle to escape the pressure. "So I think, if you want to get off, you should put a little work in yourself. Make some effort, baby."

Yoongi takes a few heaving breaths, before slowly, so carefully, lowering his hand down to wrap around the base of his cock, immediately groaning at the touch. He's leaked so much precum that it takes a single shaky stroke to coat the sensitive skin, and a relieved smile spreads over his face at the thought that he's finally going to get off.

But where's the fun in that?

"Don't you think you're being a little selfish?" Jimin spits stiffly, and flicks once at the very tip of Yoongi's dick.

His husband practically howls, curling up with a depraved cry. "Wha-at?" he sobs, hand trembling as it hovers on his thigh, fighting his desire. "What do you want, Minnie?"

"How sweet of you to ask," Jimin praises in a sugar-sweet voice, reaching down to unzip his own jeans. "Those hands are big enough to fit the both of us, aren't they?"

Blearily, Yoongi looks down as Jimin slips his aching cock out from his pants, fitting himself between Yoongi's spread legs so that their bobbing lengths bump together.

Even that contact is enough to make Yoongi hiss, but he's desperate and so he nods quickly, fingers trembling as they grab Jimin's cock, pinning them together in his grip. He pauses, panting as he stares up at Jimin for permission.

Jimin smiles placidly, bending forward to press a single chaste kiss to his husband's lips. "I don't want you cumming before I do, okay?" he asks sweetly, though the threat is thinly veiled.

Using the strength of his abdomen to lift his upper half off the desk, Yoongi stabilises himself with an elbow while his other hand jerks the two of them off together, thumb running over the sensitive heads, paying extra attention to Jimin's.

"That's it," Jimin groans, biting hard on his tongue. Truth be told, it was hard enough for him to hold back, feeling threads of an orgasm already knitting together in his stomach. But he's not willing to let go of the pretty sight of Yoongi just yet, so debauched and far gone as he shivers with every stroke, torn between making Jimin cum and preventing his own climax.

After mere minutes, Yoongi has collapsed back onto the desk, ankles curled around Jimin's back to hold him close, hand shaking violently.

"Please," he begs occasionally, but the moment his hand slows down to give himself a break, Jimin pinches his inner thigh in warning. They both knew marks there were allowed.

It's not until Yoongi is quite literally biting down on his own knuckles to hold back an orgasm that Jimin can't keep himself from cumming anymore.

Greedily, he runs his hands over Yoongi's sides, skimming the shirt up to put his chest on display, flicking at the delicate pink nipples. Jimin cums so hard he almost buckles forward onto Yoongi, spurting white all over Yoongi's hand and cock.

He holds himself up shakily, spouting praises to Yoongi as the wave of pleasure rushes through him, making his toes tingle and his fingers curl, scratches down Yoongi's chest and stomach.

"Oh, god, I'm gonna- Mi-Minnie, can I cum, oh fuh-fuck, no!"

One last liberty taken in his time as Yoongi's dom, Jimin pulls himself away, pinning Yoongi's wrists to the table and watching as his cock, dripping white, bobs desperately in the air, seeking friction.

Yoongi babbles pleas and curses, hips jerking, but it only takes Jimin leaning down, blowing a single thin stream of cool air over Yoongi's cock for Yoongi's thighs to tense. He cums, untouched, shuddering and seizing on the table as Jimin takes mercy and wraps his hand around him to stroke him through it.

"Look at you," Jimin croons in wonder, watching cum spill between his fingers, the two of them mixed together indistinguishably. "Baby, you look perfect like this. Please tell me you want to do that again."

Yoongi makes a strangled, guttural noise as he goes limp on the table, legs dangling off the edge. "Fuck, not right away, you demon," he protests grumpily, "now come kiss me again."

With a fond beam, heart so full with love and post-orgasm endorphins that he can barely handle it, Jimin tugs him up by his forearms and joins their mouths together, Yoongi's one dry hand tangling in his hair as he smiles into the kiss.

It takes only a few moments, however, for the sticky reality to sink in, and soon enough Yoongi is parting, letting his forehead rest against Jimin's. "I don't suppose there are any wet wipes in here?" he ventures.

Jimin chuckles, leaning back. "Cleaning materials in the desk drawers," he divulges.

With crazy sex hair and wide eyes, Yoongi makes quite the picture. "Fuck, I love this place. Let's try the interrogation one next time, yeah?"

#bts smut #bts fic #jimin smut #yoongi smut #yoonmin #yoonmin smut #yoonmin fic #jimin fic #yoongi fic #dom jimin #sub yoongi

[wholesomemendes]

The Winter Ball Date

College/Friends to Lover Au

Summary: When one year you get asked to the annual Winter Ball by someone other than Shawn, the two of you realize what you’ve been looking past for years.

Author’s Note: Long time no see! This is part of Julia’s Winter Writing Challenge by @wondershawns and I am so excited to have participated! My setting prompt was “A knock on the window” and the line “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this”. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, I love hearing any type of feedback and I love you all x

Word Count: 8.4k

Presents, Christmas music, your mother’s famous cookies on your tongue, all playing one by one in your mind. The feeling of just being home again instead of in a small, stuffy dorm seemed so close, yet so far away and you couldn’t help but wish that this last month would fly by. A soft nudge to your foot broke you out of your thoughts, “What’s got you in a daze?” You blinked your eyes rapidly to focus your thoughts to the present once again, turning your gaze to the curly haired boy next to you with a bright smile on his face. 

“I’m just thinking about Christmas and being home again,” you sighed dreamily, your head coming to rest on your hand. 

“Christmas is over a month away, you’re better off worrying about finals if you’re thinking that far ahead,” he laughed as a hand came up to lightly push your shoulder.

You cast a harsh glare at him through the dim light of the library, “It’s never too early to start thinking about Christmas. Aren’t you excited?”

“Of course I’m excited.” Shawn leaned back against his chair looking into space, “I get to go home and see family and I only have to worry about my sister instead of a bunch of rowdy frat boys.”

You let out a chuckle at his words, “Aren’t you also a rowdy frat boy?”

“You wound me.” He dramatically placed a hand over his heart, “Besides, I’m more excited to annoy you every day over break.”

“You already annoy me every day.”

“Maybe, but it’ll be much more convenient than me walking all the way across campus to get to your dorm.” You couldn’t lie that he did have a point there. The two of you had been best friends ever since the day your family moved into the house next to his in middle school. You had been inseparable ever since, choosing to go to the same college a few hours from your houses and meeting almost every day since you had joined as freshman. Three years later and nothing had changed, except for how tall Shawn had managed to grow in those years and how the both of you definitely had matured in both personality and appearance since you were in middle school.

“How fortunate for me then,” you laughed, turning your attention back to the abandoned textbook in front of you. 

Shawn’s eyes remained on you, cocking an eyebrow your way, “What, you’re not looking forward to my random visits?” 

“Oh no, I am so looking forward to being woken up in the middle of the night because you can’t sleep.”

“Hey that was only twice!”

“Two times too many if you ask me,” you mumbled under your breath, however the smirk on your face told Shawn that you meant for him to hear it. He simply pulled your chair closer to him and rammed his knuckles into your head until you were laughing and begging him to stop. 

____________________

“You’re coming to the game tonight right?” You had found your way into Shawn’s bed after a full day of classes with your head on his chest, a random hockey game playing on the television across from the two of you. Shawn’s arm provided a comforting warmth as it laid across your stomach, pulling you into him, and each pass of his fingertip onto your skin made you relax further into him. The cuddling wasn’t anything new to the two of you, even the electric feeling you felt from his touch had almost become normal to you. Almost.

“Of course I am. I’ve never missed one, have I?”

“You’re right you haven’t,” he smiled down at you, a stray curl falling in front of his face, “Just wanted to make sure my good luck charm would be there.”

You reached up to brush his hair out of his face, but Shawn quickly grabbed your arm, playfully biting your finger until you pulled away and your wrist was left in his grasp. “I refuse to believe I’m your good luck charm.”

“We’ve been undefeated for three years, hun. You’re my good luck charm.”

“But-”

“Nope, shut it. Don’t want to hear a peep from you.” He pulled you tighter into him before placing a delicate kiss to your hair, “Remind me to give you my jersey for tonight. Want to make sure everyone knows whose good luck charm you are.”

“You’re such a goof.”

____________________

Shawn won. Again. It was no surprise, especially since the team they were up against were no good, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t incredibly proud of him. He absolutely amazed you every time he went out on the ice and you couldn’t help but wait impatiently in the main corridor of the arena. Students rustled around you as you waited though you paid them no mind, simply choosing to admire the banners on the wall instead. The sudden increase in noise caused you to turn your head towards the locker rooms where a certain curly-headed boy was leading a pack of freshly showered athletes. You sprinted past the crowds of people in his direction as Shawn dropped his bag, opting instead to pick you up in his arms as you ran straight into him. You wrapped your legs around him like a koala with your head buried into his neck, breathing in the strong, heady scent of his shampoo. “There’s my good luck charm,” he sighed into your hair and you laughed, only causing a brighter smile to form on his face.

“You were incredible, Shawn. You’re constantly impressing me out there.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, lifting his head to look you in the eyes, “Always means the most coming from my number one fan.”

You flashed him a smile that mirrored his as he slid you down to the floor, making sure that you were always close to him even while others were surrounding him. Your eyes stayed trained on him and the aura that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. They followed the path of his jaw, his neck, to his broad shoulders he always made you massage for him. But before you could finish admiring him, you felt a presence behind you and a slight grasp on your arm. You turned only to be met with a tall figure with beautiful green eyes and dirty blonde hair. He seemed to be about Shawn’s height, maybe an inch shorter, and although his smile wasn’t as bright as Shawn’s was, it still managed to take your breath away for a moment. “Hi, I’m Grant,” the man introduced himself, extending his hand for you to grab, “Are you Shawn’s girlfriend?”

You turned your focus back to Shawn who was currently in the middle of a conversation with a couple fraternity brothers and sorority sisters before coming back to this new mysterious man. “Oh no, we’re not, we’re not dating. We’re just best friends.” Grant seemed to have some distrust in his eyes at your words, his eyebrow lifting up slightly in question. “I’m Y/n by the way.” Grabbing his outstretched hand you let yourself appreciate the polite person in front of you.

“I’m sorry I assumed you’re dating. I’m in the frat with Shawn; we’re not good friends or anything but I’ve seen the two of you around in there.” Suddenly your mind clicked to where you had seen him before off of the rink. Most of the boys on the hockey team all resided in the same fraternity so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to you to learn that you had been in the same house as Grant multiple times. “You two are really close, I can’t be the only one that has mistaken the two of you as dating.”

“Yeah…,” you trailed off, sparing a glance back at Shawn, “It happens a lot more than you think. But I promise we’re not. I’m as single as one can be.” Grant’s smile seemed to grow at your words and his shoulders relaxed an inch. 

“Well in that case I actually wanted to ask you…”

“What’s going on over here?” A heavy weight slid across your shoulders, effectively pulling you into a warm body you immediately recognized. You rolled your eyes at the interruption. Perfect timing as always, Shawn. 

“Nothing, just introducing ourselves to one another,” Grant replied, that smile that you were beginning to grow fond of diminishing slightly. 

“Good, was worried that my good luck charm was switching sides.” Shawn sent a pointed look your way with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Good luck charm?”

“Why do you think we haven’t lost a game yet?” Shawn questioned, reaching out to pinch our cheeks, “It’s this little one right here giving me all the luck.” You swatted his hand away bitterly, but his smirk only grew. “Well I’m sure this has been great. Grant, I’ll see you later at the frat and you missy, we have a celebratory dinner to catch.” He maneuvered his way through the people calling his name, bringing you right to his classic jeep.

“You’re horrible you know that right,” you huffed as soon as you got into the seat.

“What ever could you be talking about?” he said innocently.

“If you keep acting like this, I’ll truly never get into a relationship.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Says the one that literally interrupted an entire conversation I had barely even started yet.”

“I was simply worried about you.”

“Mhm, sure.” You stared out the window in protest, not even moving when you felt his hand on your lower thigh.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you liked Grant. I was just looking out for you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I like him, I’ve known him for all of five minutes, but it would be nice to maybe explore some options without my personal bodyguard getting in the way.”

“Once again I’m sorry that I got in the way then. I guess Grant is not the worst guy you could have chosen out of the bunch,” he trailed off as he pulled into the diner parking lot the two of you had been frequenting at after almost every hockey game, “Now let’s put this behind us. I’m really craving some fries and a milkshake.” 

____________________

The brisk wind of the courtyard made you tighten your jacket around yourself in a poor attempt to keep the chills away. A sigh of relief escaped your lips once you rounded the corner of the lecture hall you had previously been in, leading you through a row of buildings that temporarily protected you from the harsh weather of Toronto. You kept your eyes trained in front of you, desperately trying to will your feet to somehow move faster to get you to Shawn’s frat house for your usual post-class wind down.

“Hey Y/n!” You whipped your head around to see the source of your name, but after coming up empty handed in the small crowd of students behind you, you shook your head, convincing yourself you just imagined it as you continued your walk. “Y/n, wait!” Pausing this time, you turned your body around completely only to be met with the sight of Grant maneuvering his way carefully around the other students. Upon seeing you stopped, his face light up and he started to jog his way towards you until he was close enough for you to feel some of his body heat. “Hey.”

“Hey, Grant. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. Sorry to catch you at such a bad time, but I didn’t know when I was going to see you again,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I also didn’t want to wait too long to ask this because I was afraid I’d miss my chance.”

“What’s going on?”

“Are you going to the Winter Ball with anyone?” The Winter Ball was the annual end of the semester party Shawn and Grant’s fraternity held every year that was incredibly exclusive. The only way to get in was if one of the members took you as their date, which meant that almost every girl was dying for someone to ask her. 

At that moment your gaze fell to the beautiful bouquet of red roses that were present in his hands before your eyes lifted to meet his that were so full of hope and nerves. “As of right now I am not. Why do you ask?”

“That’s great! I mean, that’s not great that you’re not going with anyone, but great because I, um, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go with me?” 

You flashed him a bright smile as he handed the bouquet towards you, “I would love to go with you, Grant.”

“Really? That’s, that’s amazing. I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I.” 

He wrapped his arms around you in a quick hug before moving the other way, “I hate to leave right away, I’d love to stay and talk, but I really need to get to class.”

You waved him off, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah of course,” he began walking away until his eyebrows raised and he came back, “Wait, can I actually get your number?” You saved your number into the contacts of his phone and gave him a wave, heading your way back to the line of frat houses you were looking for. The butterflies in your stomach were doing front flips as you tried to will the humongous smile off of your face. A guy just asked you to be his date to the Winter Ball. A really cute, sweet guy just asked you to be his date to the Winter Ball. Never in a million years did you think someone like him would even imagine asking you to be their date yet here you were, the most delightful smelling roses in your hand and a fluttering feeling in your body. You hardly comprehended that you had already stepped foot into the frat house until you were opening the door to Shawn’s room and falling onto his bed next to him with a dopey smile on your face. 

Shawn looked over at you questioningly from his phone, ‘What’s going on with the flowers and the face?”

“Shawn, you won’t believe it!” you practically squealed, turning onto your side, “Grant just asked me to be his date to the Winter Ball!”

“The Winter Ball?”

“Yes! Isn’t that the best thing ever! I’ve never been asked before!”

“What do you mean? You’ve been my date every year.” If you hadn’t been so caught up with the giddiness in your chest you might have been able to notice the fleeting look of sadness in his eyes as he spoke.

“That’s not the same though. I wasn’t really your date, we just went as friends.”

“Yeah, but you were still considered my date.”

“Still, it’s not the same thing.” 

A small moment of silence took over the room before Shawn cleared his throat. “So...you said yes?”

“Of course I said yes, I’d be stupid not to.” 

“Oh.”

You watched as he focused back on his phone, a tiny frown on his face that you could hardly notice, “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing. I’m glad you’re so happy about this.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mendes, what’s wrong?”

“Just wondering what I’m going to do about a date this year.”

“That’s what you’re upset about?” you looked at him incredulously, “Please, you’re one of the most sought after guys in this school. You could go up to any girl on this entire campus and none of them would even hesitate to say yes.”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” you scoffed, “What about Jessica? I’ve seen the two of you talking a lot at post game parties and everything. You two look like you get along.” 

“Yeah, I could always ask her,” he sighed, “But Jessica isn’t going to drag me into my room at four in the morning asking me to sing her a song on the guitar so she can fall asleep.” He sent a teasing smile your way as he referenced your habit of pulling his hand through crowds of people until you got to his room when you felt too tired and wanted to go to sleep.

“I’m sorry, Shawn. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You thought for a moment, “I know! I’ll buy you pizza from your favorite pizza place! You know, the one across from the campus coffee shop where they put extra cheese on top.”

“That’s not my favorite pizza place.”

“But every time we go there you say…”

“I only say that because I know it’s your favorite pizza place.” His gaze fell soft upon you, “Don’t get me wrong it’s not bad, but I don’t have a favorite and I know you’re more likely to go there if I said it’s also my favorite.”

“Oh,” you looked down at your hands, “Well thank you.” Shawn hummed in response, his eyes traveling back to his phone. “You can still come over beforehand to get ready together like we always do.”

He let out a sad chuckle, “Don’t think Grant would much like that, honey.”

“That’s too bad if he doesn’t like it because it’s important to me that we get ready together and you’re the first person to see me all fancied up.” 

Shawn swore he felt his heart stutter in his chest, “If you want me over, I’d be more than happy to get ready with you.”

“Perfect, it’s a date.”

____________________

You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt when you noticed that Shawn had been a little more distant with you in the past week. Your texts sat on delivered for longer, you were no longer going over to his room after every lecture due to him “being busy”, and the nightly FaceTime calls were no longer nightly. You blamed it on hockey practices piling up and finals getting closer but in reality, you knew that wasn’t the case. There was only a week until finals, and therefore the Winter Ball, when you finally ran into Shawn again on your way to a class, very obviously catching him off guard. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been really busy lately,” he told you, but you knew him long enough to tell that the way his eyes wouldn’t maintain contact with you was a telltale sign that there was more to the story.

“Don’t worry about it, just miss you is all. Did you find a date yet for the ball?”

“Oh yeah, I asked Jessica like you told me to.”

“That’s great! Are you doing anything later today?”

“Uh, I don’t know…”

“I’m going dress shopping for the Winter Ball if you want to come with me like you always do.”

“Uh…”

“Come on, Shawn, you’re not going to break tradition are you?” 

He desperately wanted to respond with, “You already broke a tradition by ditching me without warning and going with Grant,” but he bit his tongue. “Sure,” he replied with a heavy heart, “I’d love to help you pick out a dress.”

“Yay! Why don’t we go right after class?”

“Ok, I can pick you up at three?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you later, Mendes!” You left a searing kiss on his cheek before rushing off to class, leaving him staring after you longingly.

____________________

“Any ideas on what you want?” Shawn trailed behind you like a lost puppy as you skimmed your way through the many clothing racks. 

“Not really. Just want something that says ‘Please don’t regret inviting me. I swear I’m a good choice.’”

He couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips, “I don’t think you need a dress for that. You do that by yourself.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile, “Thank you, but I don’t know if everyone feels that way.”

“Well they should,” he mumbled, his fingers mulling over the beautiful items of clothing. A deep maroon, velvet dress caught his eye immediately and he pulled it out, examining it carefully before nodding his head, “Try this one on.”

“Hm,” you turned to look at him as he studied the dress, “Oh, that’s gorgeous. I’ll try it on if you want me to.”

He nodded his head before turning back to the dresses silently, not making any other comments as you looked around. Once you were satisfied with the dresses in your arms, you headed towards the dressing rooms, looking both ways to ensure that no one was around before pulling Shawn into one with you. He turned around as you changed; sure he had seen you in bikinis before and you were both sure that on more than one occasion when you were drunk that you had both changed in front of one another, but he still had enough respect for you to turn around whilst you put the first dress on. 

The first one was a simple black dress with long sleeves that you thought would be nice for the cold climate that came with living in Canada and although it was flattering, it didn’t feel like anything special. You turned to Shawn with a sigh, “What do you think?”

Personally, from the second you told him to turn around, Shawn swore he had seen an angel. The way the dress hugged your curves had him twitching in his pants and he had to swallow thickly in an attempt to control his thoughts. “I, um, I mean you look beautiful. I like it.”

“Really?” you asked, admiring yourself in the mirror, “I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel special to me.”

“Why don’t you just come back to that one then. I think it’s really pretty on you.”

“Yeah, you’re right I’ll just do that.” Four dresses later and you still hadn’t found the dress for you. There was a dark green one that you didn’t feel complimented your skin tone well enough (Shawn begged to differ), a black one with a plunged neckline that went way too far down for your comfort zone (Shawn was glad he didn’t have to protest against that one, he didn’t particularly like the idea of all the drunk, disrespectful boys in the frat seeing that), another black one that went too far down your legs (even though Shawn argued that it would keep your legs warm), and a light blue one that didn’t really fit your feeling of winter (Shawn almost lost his mind when you had bent down in front of him in that one to pick up a loose string that had fallen off of it). 

Finally, you had reached the dress Shawn had picked out for you, just as you were beginning to lose all hope of finding a dress. The moment you slipped it on you knew it felt different than the others: it fit you perfectly with a plunging neckline that showed just enough, the fabric wrapped along the middle to the bottom to accentuate your waist, your curves were shown in a way that it was flattering, but not too overwhelming, and the maroon color complimented your skin beautifully. You couldn't lie, Shawn had somehow managed to find the perfect dress for you. “Ok, you can turn around now.” 

He slowly uncovered his eyes and faced his body towards you, his mouth immediately going dry at the sight of you. The combination of your body in the dress and the gorgeous smile on your face was kryptonite for him and he couldn’t help but wish even harder that he was the one who was lucky enough to be your date for the ball. He motioned you towards him, rubbing his fingers along the fabric of the dress in a way that sent your stomach flipping. “This the one?” he asked, looking up at you with bright doe eyes. You nodded slowly, watching him tug his bottom lip between his teeth. “Grant is very lucky to have you as his date, honey.”

You paused. The thought of Grant taking you to the ball instead of Shawn had completely escaped your mind and in that moment you regretted ever agreeing to changing your date this year. “Yeah, um, right, I hope he likes it.”

“If he has a brain in that head of his then there’s no doubt he’s going to be blown away by you.” He gave a gentle smile your way before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and tapping your hip lightly, “Now go and get changed so we can go cash out.”

You nodded your head as he turned back around, silently smacking yourself in the face for the sudden butterflies that were forming in your stomach. Since when did he have such an effect on you? And why was he doing it so easily?

The moment you got to the cash register, he immediately pushed you out of the way and gave his credit card to the cashier before you could even pull out your wallet. “Shawn, why did you pay for that? I was going to…”

“Calm down, honey,” he laughed at your outburst as he opened the car door for you, “Think of it as an apology gift for me not hanging out with you as much as I usually do this week.”

“But…”

“No buts, it’s already done.” The car engine roared to life and all you could think about while you sat in the passenger seat of his car was how you were going to be wearing a dress that not only did Shawn pick out, but also bought for you while you had to act like you weren’t constantly thinking about him as you stood next to Grant the whole night. Shawn had made sure that you were completely and utterly screwed.

____________________

“Are you almost done?” you heard Shawn’s impatient call from your bedroom. You were living in a larger suite with a bunch of other girls so you were lucky enough to have your own bathroom attached to your room. Shawn had gotten ready in the bathroom before you but you refused to look at him until you were finished as well, not wanting to ruin the surprise. So he sat out there waiting for you while you fixed your hair and makeup relentlessly, watching the time pass by ever so slowly.

“Give me one more second!” you called out to him, adjusting one final strand of hair. You checked your makeup one last time before opening the door, revealing yourself to a Shawn who was sat perched on the end of the bed, phone in hand. 

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, his mouth dropping open ever so slightly, “Damn, you look just perfect.” 

You willed the heat in your cheeks to go away, “Thank you. You don’t look half as bad yourself. Quite dashing if I say so.” It was true, he was wearing a simple black button up with black dress pants that fit to his thighs perfectly as he stood up in front of you. His outfit shouldn’t have looked as attractive to you as it did, maybe it was something about the way he had the top few buttons open to reveal the small amount of chest hair he was currently sporting or the way his hair was styled to perfection with your favorite curl hanging out in front, but your heart couldn’t stop fluttering at the sight of him. And then it dropped the moment you realized that you weren’t the girl that got to walk hand in hand with him that night.

“Before we go I have something for you.” Shawn turned towards his bag where he pulled out one single rose for you, “I know I’m not your date this year, but it felt wrong to break tradition. Besides, needed to make sure a beautiful girl like you got a flower in case Grant dropped the ball.”

You were suddenly extremely aware of how close he was to you, his nose almost touching yours. His eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment, so fast that you couldn’t even tell by the way you were so focused on his breath hitting your lips. “Thank you,” you whispered, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I definitely should have.” His eyes went to your lips once again, this time letting them linger slightly longer so you got the hint. Your hands were trapped holding the rose against his chest as his hands ghosted over your hips, fingertips teasing the fabric of your dress. Shawn tilted his head ever so slowly, nudging your nose with his until your lips parted with a breath.

The sound of your phone ringing broke the two of you apart in a hurry as though you were both afraid of being caught. You scrambled away from him, heading to your dresser to grab a hold of your phone, Grant’s name lighting up the screen making the guilt in your stomach grow. “Hey, Grant, what’s up?”

“Hey are you going to be here soon?” his voice filled your ear.

“Yeah, I’m leaving right now.”

“Perfect, can’t wait to see you.”

“Can’t wait to see you either,” your voice came out soft before you ended the call, bringing your phone down slowly to face Shawn. He had the same conflicted look in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher as he held eye contact with you. 

He let out a deep sigh, picking up his bag that was on the floor, “We should probably go.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, but made no move to head towards the door.

Shawn came over to you, placing his hands in his pockets. “Grant’s waiting for you.” You nodded your head. “Jessica’s waiting for me.” You nodded once again. He let out another sigh, putting a soft hand on your cheek and a kiss to your hair, “We need to go.” You watched as he walked towards the door, looking back at you once he reached the doorway, and you had no choice but to follow suit.

____________________

Oh my god, I almost kissed Shawn. We almost kissed and we would’ve kissed if Grant hadn’t called me. Oh my god Grant. Why didn’t I think of Grant when I was with Shawn? Shawn’s my best friend, I can’t like him like that. Does he like me like that? Can you imagine if he liked me like that? 

“We’re here.” You looked over at Shawn who hadn’t uttered a single word to you the entire way here and was already proceeding to get out of the car without you. The door slammed shut and you winced, not understanding why he was so angry about what happened. Did he really want to kiss you that bad? Your heart couldn’t help but beat faster at the thought of him wanting to kiss you, but you willed it away, instead choosing to clamer out of the car after Shawn and attempt to focus your thoughts on Grant who was without a doubt waiting behind that door for you. 

“Shawn, wait up!” you called out as you ran after him, almost catching up to him as he reached the top of the steps before your heel got caught on the step and sent you tumbling forward. The second a squeal left your lips, Shawn’s arms were already around you, effectively saving you from a face plant on the concrete. You looked at him breathlessly, trying to compose yourself after what felt like a near death experience, “Thank you.”

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes. Even when he was combating his emotions he still cared so deeply about you.

“Yeah I’m fine. I wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for you though…”

“Y/n, there you are!” Grant opened the door, with a wide grin on his face, but upon noticing the position you and Shawn were in, his brows furrowed, “Are you two ok?”

“What?” you looked between the two of you, “Oh, we’re perfect. Just took a little tumble up the stairs is all.” Shawn pulled you up with an arm around your waist until you were stable on your feet before immediately retracting as though you were made of fire. 

“Thanks for saving her man,” Grant told him, clapping his shoulder as he snaked an arm around your waist, “Jessica’s been asking about you in there by the way. Told her you’d find her when you got here.”

“Right, thanks.” Shawn awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck before excusing himself to push past the two of you into the house.

Grant leaned in closer to you as you both watched Shawn leave, “Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about him,” you reassured him, “Why don’t we get something to drink?”

“Sounds perfect.” Grant took your hand softly into his, leaving a light kiss to your cheek and leading you into the noisy house.

____________________

It had been hours since you arrived at the loud, people filled house. You had barely seen Shawn the whole night; you thought you might have seen him and Jessica making out in a corner at one point, but the multi-color lights in the house didn’t exactly make picking people out of the crowd as easy as it usually was. You had spent the entire night with Grant attached to your hip, whether it was while you were getting a drink, talking to friends, or dancing, he was always right by your side. His hands were currently on your hips, chest pressed to your back and peppering gentle kisses to your exposed neck as you swayed in rhythm to the beat of the song blaring through the speakers. The two of you hadn’t kissed yet, but with the way the drinks were affecting you, you doubt that statement would stay true for long. You were nursing your almost empty drink, the description of the contents long forgotten, all you knew was that your body had a nice tingly sensation running through it and your head was feeling just foggy enough that you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were willing to make some decisions you definitely wouldn’t make sober. Grant pressed a longer kiss to the back of your ear before whispering into it, “Stay here. I’m just going to run to the bathroom.” 

You nodded your head in his direction, taking the time to look around at the people around you. After waiting a few minutes for his return, you became bored and took it upon yourself to get yourself a new drink. You had been here enough that even drunk you knew your way to the kitchen so you easily maneuvered through the clusters of couples until you pushed open one of the entrances to the kitchen. No matter how much you desperately wished you couldn’t recognize the brown haired boy that was in there with you, there was no amount of alcohol that could make you forget his defining features. At the sound of the door closing, his head perked up to look at you and you became painfully aware of how the two of you were the only ones in there as you stared into his honey colored eyes. “Hey,” you breathed out, stepping closer until you were practically shoulder to shoulder with him. 

“Hey,” he bumped your shoulder with his, “Long time no see.”

The loopy smile he gave you told you that he was also feeling the alcohol, but probably only as much as you; the man knew how to hold his drinks. “Whatcha doing in here?”

“Told Jessica I’d get the both of us something more to drink,” he motioned to the two cups in front of him, “What about you? Where’s Grant?”

“Bathroom,” you replied, leaning back onto the counter, “I got bored waiting for him out there.” 

You lifted up Shawn’s hand that was resting next to you and began tracing the pattern on his fingertips. “What are you doing, love?” he laughed, the pet name slipping out as they usually did when he had some alcohol in his system.

“Playing with your hand.” You locked hands with him while he moved in front of you to make it all the more easier for you to continue your task. His large body trapped you against the counter, but you hardly noticed until his breath fanning over your face tore your attention away from his hand. “You’re very handsome you know,” you smiled, releasing his hand to run your finger over the light scar on his face, “So pretty.”

He let out a breathy laugh as he moved his now free hand to the counter to fully lock you in between his body, “That’s funny coming from someone who looks like those goddesses we used to learn about in school.”

“I don’t look like a goddess…” your voice trailed off, too occupied with outlining the features of his face.

“Yeah you do. Look like the prettiest one...what was her name again?” He smirked down at you, knowing Greek mythology used to be one of your favorite topics in school.

“Aphrodite?”

“Mhm, that’s the one. Swear you’re a real life Aphrodite.” He moved in closer to you, brown eyes boring into you and forcing your gaze back into them. He heard your breath catch in your throat as his nose touched yours, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing...you’re just close is all.”

“I am close,” he whispered, biting his lip when he felt the hand you had on his jaw move to his neck. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you do if I kiss you right now?”

Your wide eyes batted up at him innocently from where he was towering over you, your heart absolutely racing, “I’d kiss you back.” 

And with that his lips connected to yours feverishly, his body pressing to yours harder. His lips were soft and you could taste the alcohol from whatever drink he had been sipping on before that made him intoxicating. He licked tentatively over your bottom lip, practically groaning into your mouth when you immediately opened up for him. You tasted so sweet to him, so sweet that he swore he could easily become addicted to your taste. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a soft moan from you that made his grip on the counter tighten and his hips push against yours harder. You could feel a bulge pressing against your lower stomach and you couldn’t help letting out another moan that Shawn eagerly swallowed into a kiss. Pulling him closer to you by his hair, he took that as a sign to thread his right hand through the base of your hair, the other hand reaching down to harshly pull your leg around his hip. Your hips bucked against his as his tongue fought yours for dominance that you easily gave him. 

Just as his hand was about to run up your thigh, the door to the kitchen burst open and Shawn swiftly moved completely away from you and back in front of the drinks he had originally come in for. You almost whined at the sudden lack of content, but the look of shock on the stranger’s face shut you up. It only took one look at your wide eyes and swollen lips and the sudden wrinkles in Shawn’s shirt for them to hastily exit the room with an apology spilling from their lips. 

The second they were gone you made your way back to Shawn, who was breathing heavily as he stared at the counter. You placed your hand on his chin, bringing his face back to you. Using your thumb to swipe at a rogue smudge of lipstick that had transferred onto him, you looked at him carefully, swallowing thickly when he placed a gentle kiss to the pad of your finger. You looked him in the eyes for the first time since your heated moment and while you could only see what you believed to be lust in his eyes, he saw yours change from lust to fear and to what finally made his heart drop: regret. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, successfully dodging Shawn’s attempt to grab your arm.

“Y/n wait!”

“I’m sorry, Shawn.”

“Please!” was the last thing you heard before you shut the door to the kitchen and rushed through the crowd of people. Your breathing was becoming erratic the deeper into your thoughts you got until you felt you were on the verge of a panic attack with no one to save you.

“There you are,” Grant sighed relieved, causing you to jump when his hand wrapped around your arm, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” 

“Sorry, I was bumped around in the crowd and got lost trying to find you again,” you lied, trying to avoid his eyes.

“That’s alright, I’m just glad you’re here,” he smiled at you, his brows furrowing while his hand came up to your lips, “Hold on your lipstick is a little smudged.”

Your eyes grew ten times wider, “Um, I think I must have just messed it up while I was drinking or something.”

“Ok, do you want to go dance again?”

“Yeah, uh, that sounds great…” your eyes met a frantic Shawn’s as he searched for you in the crowd, “You know what, I actually think I’m going to go home.”

“What?” Grant asked, confused as he followed you through the people.

“I just don’t feel good all of a sudden, it has nothing to do with you I swear. You’re amazing, I just need to go.” 

“Stay here overnight, don’t go home.”

“Grant, I don’t feel well.”

“I know, I don’t want that. I mean you’re gorgeous and everything, but if you’re not feeling well then obviously not. It’s just, I’m not in the right mindset to drive, it’s frigid out there, and a drunk girl all alone in an uber sounds like a horrible idea. So why don’t you just stay? I’ll sleep on the floor so you can sleep in my bed.”

“I don’t know…”

“Please, I just want you to be safe.” 

Your eyes lingered over to wear Shawn was still watching you, this time with Jessica in front of him, obviously trying to get his attention onto her. “You know what...sure. I’ll stay.”

A bright smile formed on Grant’s face, “Perfect, let’s get you all settled then.” He grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs toward his room, Shawn’s eyes following you with a heavy heart.

____________________

The next morning you bumped into Shawn in the hallway as you were exiting Grant’s room wearing his clothes he had let you borrow to sleep in for the night. Neither of you said a word as you silently made your way past him and down the stairs towards Grant’s car while Grant came strolling out of his room with his classic smile on his face, having no clue how heart broken Shawn felt when he gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

____________________

It had been a week since you last spoke to Shawn. Not a single message or interaction between the two of you. You didn’t know what you would say if you even had approached him, but you hadn’t gotten the chance to find out. Having to pack up your dorm for the semester gave you an excuse for not talking and a way to busy yourself to get your mind off of him. But no matter what you did Shawn Mendes was still hanging in the back of your mind, taunting you with replays of different moments with him over and over again. You were lucky that this time you hadn’t been planning on driving back home with him so you didn’t have to face him on the hours long drive back, though you knew that didn’t mean you wouldn’t be seeing him at some point upon your arrival. All these thoughts were swimming through your head as you pulled into your parent’s driveway, immediately being met with a swarm of greetings from your family. You seemed to have arrived before Shawn, which you felt incredibly fortunate for as you were ushered into the house. 

You didn’t see Shawn the whole first week you were there either, no matter how much your heart ached for him. You found yourself more often than not wondering what he was doing just next door and if he was thinking about you too or if you had already become something unattainable and therefore not worth his time. Even though you knew he wasn’t that type of person, the little devil on your shoulder kept telling you that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

Christmas Eve you were tucked into your bed, soft breaths coming from your mouth. The snow was coming down in light, fluffy flakes, just enough that it was the pretty white Christmas you always loved without the terrible snow storm you couldn’t stand. The first knock on your window sounded like the wind, but the second one was unmistakable, abruptly pulling you from your sleep and to the window. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw Shawn’s face staring back at you and you hurried to open your window for him. “Thank god,” he chuckled, “It’s freezing out there.” Shawn had been climbing up the side of your house to reach your room since you were young, so it truly should have been no surprise to you that he was scaling it in the snow.

“What do you want, Shawn?” you sighed, already making your way back into bed as he followed you, “It’s two in the morning.”

“That it is,” he agreed, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you turned to face him, eyes only opening slightly in your sleepy haze.

He brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face, “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this.”

You shrugged his hand away, “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” he whispered with his hand still lingering on your face, “My little Aphrodite.”

Your eyes shot wide open, your senses suddenly wide awake, “What’d you just call me?”

“My little Aphrodite.”

You sat up next to him. “Ok, Shawn, what do you want? Why did you come here in the middle of the night on Christmas nonetheless?”

“Can’t I just say hello to my best friend?”

“You haven’t said hello to your best friend in two weeks so that’s not a good excuse.”

“Don’t say that like you haven’t been avoiding me either,” he chuckled darkly.

“I couldn’t face you, Shawn!” you choked out, eyes beginning to well up with tears as you scooted away from him, “I couldn’t, not after....not after that night.”

There was a heavy silence for a moment before Shawn spoke harshly, “Why’d you hook up with Grant that night?”

“What?”

“Why’d you hook up with Grant?”

“I didn’t hook up with Grant,” you spat out, “Why would you even think that?”

“You really expect me to believe that after I saw you not only go upstairs with him, but also leave his room the next morning wearing his clothes!”

“I do expect you to believe it because nothing happened! I wanted to leave after what happened because I didn’t want to be in the same room as you anymore and he offered me a place to stay since it was cold and I was drunk. Nothing. Happened.”

“You didn’t want to be in the same room as me? Wow.” He shook his head, leaning back against your headboard on the other side of the bed, “One second I have your leg around me, moaning in my mouth, and the next you’re leaving me without an explanation and now you’re going to tell me you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me?!”

“You don’t understand…”

“What don’t I understand?!”

“I couldn’t be in the same room with you after I realized something…”

“What did you realize, huh? What was so groundbreaking that you couldn’t even stand to see me?”

“That I was freaking in love with you!” Your mouth hung open. You had mulled over the thought of loving Shawn in the weeks you were apart, but you dismissed it every time, not believing you could have allowed yourself to fall in love with your best friend. Shawn stared at you with bated breath, his silence slowly killing you from the inside. 

Just as you were about to hide under your blanket in embarrassment, you felt something warm covering your mouth and a hand in your hair, his lips moving softly on yours. You sighed into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him eagerly to let him push you back onto your bed. He hovered on top of you, holding you close to him as he kissed you with every ounce of passion inside of him, stealing your breath away completely. His kisses were gentle, but still heavy with emotion. He parted from you to let you both catch your breaths, placing light kisses to your cheeks. “I am so in love with you, Y/n. You have no idea.” 

He left one last searing kiss on your lips before pulling away and leaning off the bed to retrieve a small wrapped box. “I got you something for Christmas.” 

You gingerly took the small box in your hand, carefully pulling off the paper to reveal a small black box. You looked up at him with curious eyes, but he only nodded his head for you to continue, placing a gentle hand on your thigh. Opening the box, a beautiful silver dove charm was revealed to you on a necklace, the light of your room catching off of it making it shine. “Shawn…” you breathed out, “it’s gorgeous.”

“It’s a dove. You know, the symbol of Aphrodite,” he smiled at you nervously, “Do you like it?”

“Of course, I love it. Put it on for me?”

Shawn pulled your back into his chest and brushed your hair out of the way to place the delicate necklace around you. Once the necklace was clasped, he left the softest of kisses to your shoulder. “There you go. Perfect for my little Aphrodite.”

#shawn mendes #shawnblr #mendes army #shawn peter raul mendes #wonder #shawn mendes wonder #shawn mendes in wonder #tarzan #smtt #sm4 #shawmila #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fandom #shawn mendes request #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes boyfriend #shawn mendes blurb

[spiltscribbles]

Here’s a prompt from the tag! “ Giving them your dessert when you eat out because it’s their favorite.” bc I have a feeling Remis would be the type to end up eating Sirius’ dessert instead of his bc he doesn’t know what to order but Sirius knows his taste dkfjsjaha

~Notes: Oh no baby! I read this wrong, thinking it was Person A ordering for them instead because Person B didn’t know what they wanted.... And well this came out-- I can totally write a different prompt though to match this one! Just LMK! <3 <3

.-

Send Me A Prompt  |  Reblogs are like the tastiest dessert!!

.-

Remus pads softly into his and Sirius’s room, a mug of steaming Darjeeling in hand and clad only in a his robe as he gazes longingly at the sleeping form of his partner for nearing on three years now. 

The early morning sun pans across the wide expanse of Sirius’s shoulders, and dips into the planes and valleys of his muscular torso and angular face. Lying there, with his dark hair fanning the pillow and the blanket slung lazily around his hips, he looks like some sort of fallen angel. Beautiful and remote and impossible to touch by sullied hands that aren’t half as sacred. It makes his heart thud an uneven staccato when he remembers that he’s his— Sirius chose Remus, Sirius loves Remus— Maybe even nearly as much as Remus has always loved him.

How remarkable of a revelation indeed.

Gingerly, Remus sets down his tea and crawls back into bed with Sirius, insides thrilling when the dark haired boy subconsciously snakes his arms around him and curves around Remus’s body like so many times before, so often that Remus reckons it’s become by rote, an ingrained response to whenever they’re in close proximity to one another.

With a quiet laugh, Remus stretches around, begins peppering Sirius’s chest and abs and the space surrounding his cock with tender kisses, slowly rousing him to wakening the way Sirius always appreciates after a night of patrols for the Auror’s academy. And as usual, it doesn’t take long at all for Sirius to begin moaning out appreciative sighs, thrusting languorously for the warmth of his mouth, making Remus chuckle as he tugs down his pants, and kisses the length of him, peering up to watch as Sirius’s gorgeous, gray eyes flutter open.

“Wh— Moony?” He says in a peculiarly squeaky voice that Remus can’t ever remember slipping out of his mouth. 

“Yes— Problem, Paddy?”

Another discontent, borderline terrified noise rumbles in his throat, and before Remus could even ask what’s got his boyfriend acting like he’s touched in the head, the door to their flat flings open none too gently, and it’s an irate looking James who storms into the bedroom— fists clenched and jaw set as he glares daggers into the face of his practical brother.

“You’re dead Potter!” Is all he shouts before madness ensues— Madness that’s James’s flying fists for Sirius’s face, Peter’s choked laughter flowing in from the other room, and a Lily who looks stuck between horrified and amused

And Remus is so fucking bewildered as he slides off of his boyfriend to avoid any untoward hits accidentally aimed his way.

“Lily?” he presses expectantly, but is totally unsurprised when all she replies with is a bout of uninhibited cackles.

.-

Fifteen minutes, a magically healed split lip, and a physically restrained pair of animagi later, finds the ragtag group of friends surrounding the kitchen Island while a terse James and enraged Sirius are explaining what had happened the previous night. Namely, them getting hexed by a sour faced old bint with a Guinness in hand, after Sirius had driven his motorbike through her rosebushes.

“You guys got bested by a drunk hag!” Peter guffaws for the third time in a singular minute, clutching at his stomach while his body wracks with a continuous stream of  laughter

“I will singe your bollocks off Wormtail,” Sirius seethes from Remus’s left— Except no, it’s not Sirius. It’s James, his best mate James who’s now inhabiting the body of his lover. And God how strange of a fucking turn of events. It’s seriously unnerving. He’s just standing their, all too familiar arms crossed against his chest and thick brows furrowed. And God, Remus really wishes he wouldn’t do that— worry on his bottom lip mid snarl. It’s such a quintessentially Sirius thing to do. a look Remus knows well. One that Remus would always coax away with a gentle kiss and a hand carding through his hair and— 

“Oof!”

He glances over to where Sirius— wearing James’s face— is glowering at him with pure irritation after having elbow checked him. “Eyes front and center Lupin!”

Remus flushes, glancing over at Lily since she out of everyone here could understand his plight. But of course she’s only snickering to herself in her cup of coffee, the trader. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just because ’s my body doesn’t mean you get to give another bloke the come hither eyes!” Sirius fumes, a sneer caught on his features that Remus never thought the face of the easy going James Potter could ever conjure. “Crikey, it’s plenty that you decided to give him a full on show already.”

“How was I to know this would happen!” Remus sputters the same time James defends that they even barely started, which of course made Peter fall over on his chair with pure delight and Lily walking over to the kettle so she can hide her own laughter.

“Lucky you,” Sirius snipes back, glaring darkly at James and snatching Remus’s hand to interlock with his— erm James’s?— own on his lap.

Remus is so totally fucked.

.-

Graciously, Professor McGonagall— who told the graduating Gryffindor  class of 78 to always reach out if they ever needed help with a strangely wet glint in her eyes— Replies to the pleading missive Remus had sent almost immediately, giving Remus the proper instructions to reverse the jinx and wishing him and Lily the best for the impending tribulations about to befall them.

“She’s totally loving this,” James mumbles moodily as Lily massages his head. And Merlin, is that a strange sight— Lily not only deigning to touch Sirius at all, but look at him sympathetically on top of that. Remus has to constantly remind himself of the body swap before his ridiculous envy begins carving at his insides when James only looks appreciatively back up at her, a gentle, open expression painted over his face that is ordinarily reserved for Remus and Remus alone.

“God this is weird,” Lily tells him, slowly inching away and sitting besides Remus instead. “I usually can’t stand even the sight of Black, and now I’ve got to treat him like the bloke I’m in love with.”

“That’s not what you said this morning Evans,” Sirius goads from Remus’s other end, suddenly reverting back to looking like the James of fifth year— when he was still too cocky for his own good and still didn’t understand how much it made Lily want to hex him to hell for it. “I actually think I recall a lot of back robs and straddling action this morning.”

Lily casts him a look that would absolutely scorch lesser beings, and Remus reasons that his own glower is emulating the same energy because Sirius quickly presses their foreheads together and squeezes Remus’s hand between both of his own in silent repentance. “I knocked her off once i realized it wasn’t you love.”

“Didn’t even bother to aim for the bed you absolute sod.”

“It was fight or flight while you had your grubby little hands all over me Evans!” Sirius airily sniffs.

“Oh I’ll show you grubby little hands!” Lily seethes, pouncing forwards right when Sirius hides behind Remus’s back.

“Children,” Remus intones, beyond over it. “Did you all not realize the massive problem with this little mishap.”

“You mean besides dealing with James’s pitiful little knob.” Sirius asks, faux owlish.

“You touch my knob Black and I swear to God I’ll shave off all your hair.” James snipes, which really isn’t all that fair considering how Sirius doesn’t even care about his perfect locks half as much as Remus does.

“Bloody hell! That’s brilliant!” Peter squawks from the loveseat, absolutely glowing. “James, you think you can get Moony’s name tattooed on his arse.”

James’s face goes sly, Remus’s favorite smirk toying the edges of his lips and his stormy eyes glinting with mirth that Remus only ever sees on his boyfriend’s face before a prank or while Remus is undressing in front of him. 

“What did I say about that look Moony!” Sirius shouts, scathing and skewering him with a look James only ever  employed as Head Boy  on the third year students stupid enough to get caught while trying to pull off a prank.

“Erm— Ahem.” Remus adjusts himself in his seat, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Yes well, that is rather besides the point.”

“So what is the point, Rem,” Lily asks smugly, and Remus absolutely hates how much she’s enjoying this. She should be suffering just as much as him for the sake of Circe.

“Well didn’t you have that lunch date set up with your older sister and her husband for today?” Remus points out, a mutinous little part of him preening at how her face goes a sickly sort of pale at the reminder. Finally someone is as ill over this as he is.

“Oh bloody shite! You’re right! And Professor McGonagall said that this incantation can only be done at night, the same time as it was originally cast!”

“We’re not in school anymore Evans, you can just call her McGonagall. Or Minnie if you’re so inclined.”

“Shut the fuck up Black!” Lily shrieks, and Remus can’t help but unfavorably liken her to a banshee. “I promised Petunia that I’d see her before she leaves on holiday tomorrow! And she bloody hates Black!”

“nasty harpy.”

“What are we going to do!”

“Erm— Well maybe you can explain to her the switch up?” Peter offers, always meek in the face of Lily’s wrath.

“She already thinks I’m a freak for being a witch Peter! I can’t bring James looking like that and expect her to be fine with it!”

“Most people would consider James having upgraded,” Sirius argues.

“The tattoo will be bright pink I reckon,” James muses loudly to himself, pretending not to have heard Sirius. “A nice contrast to your pasty white arse don’t you think Padfoot?”

Sirius bares his teeth at him and Remus feels an impending migraine while Lily continues to lament the idiocy of their boyfriends.

.-

Remus idly contemplates how normal his life could’ve been if he had fought harder with the sorting hat to be placed into Ravenclaw. It would be a much less wonderful existence, to be sure, but it’d be so blessedly normal. Remus would probably have gone steady with that Hufflepuff prefect, Andre, and they would probably still be together. And Andre didn’t have a best friend who he got into insane and improbable situations with, so Remus definitely wouldn’t have been forced to do this. To be forced to go to lunch with his best friend’s wizard hating sister and her pug faced husband and not look longingly over the table at the face of his other best friend where the love of his life is inhabiting his body.

Jesus, is Remus’s life confusing as fuck.

“I need to take a pis— Oof, I mean. I have to use the gents,” Sirius declares as everyone’s entrees are being served, giving a pointed glance to Remus. And he supposes he should talk to him about that, how incredibly obvious Sirius can be when he’s flustered and isn’t trying to show it.

Five minutes after his boyfriend, Remus leaves to meet him in the first open stall, finally feeling less wrong footed for the first time today when Sirius takes him into his unfamiliar arms.

“I’m going to stab my eyes out with a fork Moony!” He hisses, and it’s odd how alien his face— James’s face— is to him. How Remus has never spent the time to memorize the precise slope of his nose, or the shape to his lips. How Remus can’t understand what it means when he squints his left eye or when he flares his nostrils with a slight curl to his mouth. But Remus does recognize the way Sirius has always grabbed his hips in that desperate way when he’s fed up, and how he always presses his nose to the curls behind Remus’s ear when he needs to be grounded. And it’s a bit awkward now that they’re the same height instead of Sirius needing to stoop slightly, and how Sirius now smells like that pricy cologne that James has always sprits with gusto. But it’s familiar enough to make Remus’s shoulders relax from the tension sown through them all day, and breathe out with relief with how the pair of them still understand one another with an innate sort of knowing.

Gingerly, Remus wraps his arms around Sirius’s now less defined torso, and they stand their, tangled into one another amidst the hush settling over  them.

“Oi! You berks!” James hisses from the doorway all too soon, clambering inside and stomping his feet. “I swear to Merlin if you pricks are fucking inside there!”

“Don’t worry Jamie, I’d never put my Moons through the indignity of dealing with that after he’s had me,” Sirius jeers, preening when James replies by throwing something hard against the doorway.

“C’mon you idiot,” Remus sighs, tugging on a lowly chuckling Sirius as they meet James by the exit of the loo.

“I’ve had three different birds sliding their numbers into my trousers on my way here alone,” James complains, shuffling foot to foot and looking more awkward than Sirius ever has. “It’s obscene.”

“It’s the life of the beautiful,” Sirius corrects as Remus swaths his hand away from his arse. 

“I’d rather not have Petunia getting a heart attack when she sees her sister’s boyfriend copping a feel of another bloke,” he chides before looping his arm through James’s and begins strolling back to the table.

.-

The rest of the lunch is thankfully uneventful, but as stilted as expected, filled with Sirius needing to be kicked in the shin every time he starts gazing absentmindedly at Remus, and Lily flickering her eyes over to James disappointedly while he pouts at her with Sirius’s best puppy dog eyes. And Every time Petunia starts eyeing them all as if they’re all fucking each other behind the scenes, Remus clumsily changes the topic to the weather or how lovely her engagement ring is or asking Vernon about bloody drills— Even if all he wants to do is reach across the table and hold Sirius’s hand.

But thankfully, it all seems to be going along decently enough— That is until the waiter comes around to take their orders and spends a little too long leering at Remus, asking if he’d like a cinnamon roll on the house.

“He’d like a slice of the chocolate fudge cake and he has a boyfriend that probably wouldn’t appreciate the extra service.” Sirius growls out, specs gone askew and dark knuckles paling from where he’s clutching his spoon vindictively.

The waiter only smiles at him, shrugging in that what can you do kind of way before dashing off to place the orders in with the kitchen.

“Hmm,” Petunia levels him with a glance, unimpressed looking. “So James.”

It takes a beat too long for Sirius to respond and Remus silently curses his every damn star. 

“Erm, yes Petunia.”

“How long have you been fucking my sister’s friend behind her back?”

Lily goes shellshocked and James looks ill while Remus sinks lower in his seat, trying to force Sirius to get it together through his eye contact alone.

“Hah— Wow, you’ve been watching those silly Muggle dramas have you Petunia.” Sirius says in a mangled tone of voice, but of course that’s the precise wrong thing to have said.

With matching red faces and spluttering words of indignation— a few curses thrown in for good measure— Petunia and her husband rise from their seats and make a hasty retreat to their car towards the back of the building.

“Oh Christ,” Lily groans, jumping up to sprint after them— but not without swinging a perfectly aimed cuff to the back of Sirius’s porcupine head. “I’ll hex you once you’re out of my boyfriend’s sodding body Black!”

“I understand Evans!” He calls after her before swinging his head over to James and Remus with a mischievous grin. “We tried didn’t we?”

“You just couldn’t keep your bloody jealous  temper in check,” James scolds with no real heat.

“Oi! And what about you lusting over Lily so blatantly you tosser! It was revolting.”

“Yeah, well maybe you’ll remember that next time you’re gazing at Moony’s arse out in public you mongrel.”

Exhausted, Remus just rises and tells them to stay behind and make sure Lily’s alright. “I need a bath and some quiet.”

“Can I join,” Sirius pouts. “I miss you.”

“Only once you’re my  Sirius again,” Remus instructs, brooking no arguments before he finds a safe place to apparate, telling himself that he deserves an entire bottle of that cheap merlot they bought last weekend.

#REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #WOLFSTAR #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #spilt ink #I feel bad I didn't post a Remus Bday FIC tho #rip #sorry angel child o'mine