#/j it’s around 5 minutes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fxstpace · 13 days ago

Text

the subtle art of swinging

summary: park sunghoon is the spider-man. he's also your best friend. he's also hopelessly in love with you. between fighting crime and intercepting alien invasions, park sunghoon barely has the time to confess his feelings to you. lucky for him, you've got him covered.

or, five times park sunghoon tries to ask you out, and one time you ask him out instead.

pairing: spider-man!park sunghoon x fem!reader genres: fluff, mild angst, best friends to lovers!au, spider-man!au, college!au, attempts at comedy, idiots to idiots in love, 5 + 1 things word count: 5.0k

↳ warnings: profanity, mentions of violence but absolutely nothing graphic ↳ a/n: reposted from my old blog.

ONE — THE SUBTLE ART OF SWINGING INTO A WALL

Park Sunghoon swears he isn’t trying to be stupid.

It’s just that when he sees you, his mouth dries up, the words he want to say get stuck on the tip of his tongue and he can’t force them out no matter what, he feels his brain turn to mush and his legs turn to jelly, and—

You’re laughing. At him.

All because he swung face-first into a goddamn brick wall.

You don’t even know it’s him—he has a mask made out of spandex covering his face, thankfully—but he saw you on the street, talking to the old lady who sells churros next to the sandwich place both of you love. He may have lost all directional sense after that, because one minute he’s watching you gesture animatedly while you converse with the shopkeeper, and the next he slams solidly into the brick-red compound of the building he was supposed to swing over.

At least his webbing is still intact.

Sunghoon’s pride, on the other hand? Completely, utterly shattered.

For a minute, there’s silence—a sort of muffled, hazy silence that blankets everyone, the kind that’s impossibly rare to come by in a city which never sleeps—and then every single person whips out their phones and takes pictures, giggling to themselves throughout. It’s not every day Spider-Man accidentally swings into a wall, after all.

Sunghoon can already picture the headlines: City’s Masked Superhero Can Fight Aliens But Is Apparently Blind When Confronted By A Gigantic Barricade. Or worse. He can hear J. Jonah Jameson’s voice in his head, bellowing into the cameras, “Breaking news everyone, this just in: Spidey has been caught lackin’! Is he truly good at his job or is he just a farce? We may never know.”

He peels his head off hard brick, contorting his neck to relieve all the cricks, and that’s when he makes direct eye contact with you.

He swears his heart stops beating—but it starts again in less than a second, starts rabbiting around like it always does when he sees you, before settling back down into its regular rhythm. It’s only then that he remembers his feet and fingers are still glued to the wall.

He pries them off, wincing at the hoots and hollers from the crowd, and glances at you again.

You have a few churros in your hand, wrapped neatly in butter paper—no doubt a gift from the old lady—and you have your phone in your hand. He watches your fingers fly rapidly over the screen, notices the slight tilt to your head, the way your tongue pokes out of your lips slightly, the amusement at his mishap still running through your veins.

He hears the ping of the notification through his mask before you even put your phone down.

The letters swim in front of his eyes, on the screen in front of him.

(11:36) Y/N: HOONIE!!!! u wont BELIEVE what i just saw!!!! I SAW SPIDERMAN CRASH INTO A WALL LMFAOOOO

Sunghoon winces. He should probably tell you that there’s a hyphen separating the words ‘spider’ and ‘man’, but he doesn’t want to burst your obvious elation at the city’s most prominent superhero’s accident. (Despite the fact that you’re the cause for him losing all

common sense, in the first place.)

He doesn’t get the chance to form another coherent thought before a yell from below gets his attention. Specifically because it’s your voice.

“Hey!” You have your hands placed on your waist, your bundle of churros tucked into the corner of your arm as you squint up at him. “Need some help getting down?”

Unlike the jeers of the onlookers with their phones still out, you don’t sound malicious at all. You sound genuinely concerned, as though he isn’t Spider-Man, who’s fought off a hundred different villains and rescued the earth from alien infestations. You talk to him like he’s just a regular guy who accidentally swung onto a building and now finds himself in this precarious position.

His chest warms at the thought. “No thanks!” he hollers back. “I’m good.”

He lets his feet loosen up, feels his muscles relax and then he pushes himself off the wall, letting the momentum pull him through a graceful somersault before he lands softly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” You ignore the passersby.

“I’m fine,” Sunghoon replies. “Are you okay?”

You look at him strangely, and Sunghoon can feel his cheeks heat up. “I’m not the one who almost broke my nose because I wasn’t looking at where I was going.”

Sunghoon shifts from one foot to the other, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You have a point, he supposes. He clears his throat. “Right, um. Thanks for offering to help me out.”

“No problem,” you reply easily, the corners of your lips rising upwards. “I’m glad you’re okay. Can’t have our city’s best line of defence get obliterated because of a wall.”

Sunghoon’s not sure whether he’s supposed to feel happy about the fact that you’re worried about him despite not knowing who he is or if he’s supposed to be embarrassed at you pointing out his lapse of attention.

“Listen,” he begins, feeling a rush of adrenaline surge through his veins, run its course throughout his body, and settle at his heart, “do you… maybe want to get some coffee with me? As a thank you. For offering to help.”

You raise an eyebrow sceptically. “I’m not sure that warrants a coffee date.”

“It’s not,” Sunghoon hurriedly says, heart thumping erratically, “I swear. I just want to thank you.”

You purse your lips, drawing out a sigh that’s in between contemplation and refusal. Sunghoon’s heart sinks—he knows that expression of yours all too well. “I’m sorry, Spider-Man. You’re a great superhero and I’m sure you’re a really nice person behind the mask, but… I’m actually running late for a meet-up with my best friend. I’m sorry.” You shrug apologetically. “Maybe next time.”

“Okay, uh—” Sunghoon licks his lips— “n-no worries. I’ll see you around.”

“Break a leg, Spider-Man.” You salute him with two fingers. “Not literally, but you know what I mean.”

He manages a smile, then realises you can’t see it through his mask—and then realises that the friend who’s meet-up you’re running late to is with him, so he’s going to see you again, anyway. The thought makes him smile again, this time wider, and he can feel his cheeks crinkle at the corners.

He stretches an arm out, presses his web shooter and swings onto the top of the building. Maybe he’ll have to deal with you retelling the story of how he crashed into a wall with extreme detail and lots of exaggeration, and Sunghoon should probably feel extremely embarrassed about it. Instead, he finds himself looking forward to it.

Maybe he should crash into walls more often.

TWO — THE SUBTLE ART OF ACCIDENTALLY ASKING YOUR PROFESSOR OUT

Park Sunghoon is decidedly fucked.

He’s late—unbearably so—but what else is he supposed to do if a platoon of aliens show up in the middle of his Introduction to Organic Chemistry class and he has to stop them from blowing up the president’s summer retreat? Once the situation is wrapped up and the foreign visitors agree to sign a peace treaty with earth, he’s effectively missed three classes, skipped lunch, and is currently running late to a study session you planned out after classes.

He supposes he can make up for it—he’s not sure how, but… something is better than nothing, right? He swings down in front of a flower shop, hurriedly asks for a bouquet and a box of chocolates, places a wad of money bills on the counter and swings away. The whole interaction takes place in less than fifteen minutes, but Sunghoon is in a hurry. He has a slew of texts from you, all detailing the same thing: That if he doesn’t magically appear in the next ten minutes, you’re leaving, and you better make it up to him somehow.

Sunghoon touches down on the rooftop of your university’s library and quickly removes his Spider-Man suit, stuffing it into his backpack and shouldering it. He heads down the fire escape, taking two steps at a time, and comes to a standstill in front of the Biology section of the library. It’s the least crowded part of the library, which is why you and Sunghoon have chosen it as your designated spot.

He sees you immediately and braces himself for the telltale quickening of his heart. You smile at him as soon as you spot him, raising a hand in greeting. Books and sheets of paper are scattered around the table in front of you, and your hair is messy, swept up hastily. You’re wearing your favourite sweater with the coffee stain down the front, because even though it’s not something you would wear in public, it’s still the most comfortable piece of clothing you own.

Sunghoon’s lips curl upwards on their own accord. The words form on the tip of his tongue, as they always do. He wants to tell you—he’s been in love with you since he first laid eyes on you—and it would be so easy to confess right then and there. He walks towards you.

Fate is never kind to him, it seems.

Sunghoon keeps his eyes fixed on you, which is why he doesn’t notice his Organic Chemistry professor walk right across him.

In his defence, Professor Kwon is short, with a head full of bountiful grey curls and a pink flower-patterned umbrella always tucked underneath her arm. She barely comes up to Sunghoon’s shoulders, so she’s never in Sunghoon’s line of vision unless he’s sitting down.

It’s no wonder he collides into her.

Professor Kwon lets out a startled “Ooh!”, the stack of papers in her hand flying out of grip and falling around him and his teacher like snowflakes on a winter morning. She twists her lips at him, mouth downturned like she just sucked a lemon raw, and tuts disapprovingly at him.

Sunghoon feels his cheeks blaze as he bends down and gathers all the loose sheets of paper and stacks them. He doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re gleefully watching the whole encounter. He tucks the bouquet and chocolates into the crook of his arm and hands the stack of papers to Professor Kwon, mumbling an apology.

“Well, you better be sorry,” she says, looking up and down at him—except she has to crane her neck at him to meet his eyes, and the sight is so hilarious, Sunghoon needs to stifle his laughter. Then her eyes narrow in recognition, and Sunghoon stiffens, dread pooling in his stomach.

She pauses for a minute. “Aren’t you the young man who ran out halfway through my class? Is your stomach feeling better now?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you snort and then cover it up as a cough.

Sunghoon wants to melt into the floor, pretend like he’s one of the tiles on the ground. “Yes ma’am,” he answers politely instead, hoping his voice doesn’t betray him.

“Hmm.” She scrutinises him carefully, reaching out with her free hand and pinching his stomach. “Indigestion is a serious issue, young man. Make sure you have enough ginger in your diet—it helps with your toilet problems.”

“I will, ma’am.”

“Now, how do you plan to make up for your lost lesson?”

Sunghoon licks his lips. “I’m… not sure, ma’am. I could come over for a remedial class—”

“Oh, please. You insult me.” Professor Kwon lets out a giggle. “Remedial classes are such mediaeval methods. These days teachers will let anything go for a small price. Young, handsome men like you especially…”

Sunghoon nearly chokes on his own spit. “I—”

“Just some flowers and chocolates will be fine,” his teacher waves him off good-naturedly, as though this is a conversation she has all the time. Her eyes land pointedly on the flowers and the chocolate box still tucked safely in his arms.

“Oh. Um.” Sunghoon curses his luck. He’s Spider-Man, after all—shouldn’t he get some slack? All he wants is to ask you out, and if not that, at least spend some time with you without getting caught up in outworldly situations all the time.

Professor Kwon’s expression turns serious upon noticing his hesitation. “Of course, not every teacher is as lenient as I’m being. Some would—and I’m really just throwing it out here—assign compensatory essays, or—”

He hurriedly shoves the bouquet and the chocolates into Professor Kwon’s waiting arms.

“No, ma’am. Thank you very much for being so kind to me.”

“Not a bother, not a bother,” she waves him off again, smiling thinly at him. “Anything for my students.”

Sunghoon bows and waits patiently for her to skitter away from him, finally letting out a loose breath that has his shoulders slumping forward and his head hanging dejectedly. He drags himself to your table, places his bag on the desk, and buries his head into his arms in such a way that half his upper body is spread-eagled across the wooden desk. A tired, muffled groan escapes his lips.

“Rough day?” Your voice is soft, and you tentatively reach out and gently run a hand through his hair.

Sunghoon lets out another groan in response, closing his eyes when he feels your touch. He lifts up his head and props his chin on the desk, glancing at you. You have a soft smile playing on your lips, eyes twinkling.

“You recorded all of that, didn’t you?” It’s more a statement than a question; Sunghoon has all your tendencies mapped out in his head, and you would never pass up on an opportunity to record his humiliation.

“Yup.” You grin at him, patting your pocket where your phone is stowed away. “I won’t show it to anyone, don’t worry.”

It’s a small consolation. He decides to let it slide. “By the way, the flowers and the chocolates were for you. To apologise for being late.”

“Oh.” To Sunghoon’s surprise, you sound… bashful, almost. His heart skitters at the revelation. “That’s alright. I’m not a big fan of flowers anyway. Are you hungry? You skipped lunch, too, didn’t you? We could go get some ramen.”

“That sounds good.” Sunghoon smiles wearily at you. He just hopes there isn’t another national emergency to divert his attention from you and the time he gets to spend with you.

THREE — THE SUBTLE ART OF ALMOST DATING YOUR HOMIE

Sunghoon’s not sure his roommate, Lee Heeseung, is completely normal.

He’s the only one who knows about Sunghoon’s secret identity, and Sunghoon relies on him to make up some believable reason for his often and sudden disappearances. The last time, when he had to escape in the middle of his Organic Chemistry class and that whole debacle with Professor Kwon took place, Heeseung had said Sunghoon had indigestion. He assumes his roommate has fun coming up with excuses. As long as his secret remains safe, Sunghoon’s not too concerned.

Despite all the help Heeseung has provided him with, he wants nothing more than to toss him over their shared apartment’s balcony.

For the past half an hour, he’s been consistently badgering him. Specifically about you.

“Have you told her you like her yet?”

The question drags a tired sigh out of Sunghoon’s lips. He’s hunched over his Physics textbook, scribbling down notes, and he could really appreciate some peace—but that’s not something he should expect when he lives with the human equivalent of a hamster on a wheel.

“No, Heeseung,” he reiterates, “I haven’t had the time.”

Heeseung flops dramatically across the couch. “Dude. You need serious help.”

“Do I?” Sunghoon murmurs absent-mindedly, wondering how to calculate the coefficient of friction with the variables he’s been given.

“Yes.” When he notices his roommate not paying attention to him, Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Stop doing homework, you have more important matters to attend to.”

Sunghoon finally tears his tired gaze away from the numericals printed out on the page. He locks eyes with Heeseung, barely aware of the tic in his left eye. “Like what?”

His roommate throws his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Like Y/N! And the fact that you’re in love with her!”

“Okay.”

“This isn’t going to work. C’mere.” He gestures to Sunghoon to come sit next to him on the couch. Once he makes his way to the couch and sits next to him, Heeseung takes both his hands in his. “Consider this an intervention.”

Sunghoon leans back and lets his head fall against the couch cushions. This is going to be good.

“Okay, so,” Heeseung begins, “she doesn’t know you’re Spider-Man—no one knows that except me—but you love her, don’t you? Just walk up to her, tell her you can show her something she’s never seen before, swing her up to a rooftop somewhere, and watch the sunset with her. Tell her you love her and that you can’t live without her, and your heart beats only for her—trust me, girls love romantic stuff like that—and then tell her you’re also Spider-Man. Easy.”

All Sunghoon can do is laugh. There’s no way Heeseung is serious about this.

“I’m being serious,” Heeseung says. “How long are you going to keep hiding this from her? Y/N��s your best friend, don’t you think you should tell her that you’re basically in mortal peril every other day?”

“That’s exactly why I’m not telling her,” Sunghoon says. “What if some villain finds out she’s special to me and does something to her to get back at me?”

His friend looks dubious. “You really think that could happen?”

“Yes.” Sunghoon turns his head to look at Heeseung. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you either.”

Heeseung chews his lip thoughtfully. “I kind of see what you mean. But…” He squeezes Sunghoon’s hand once, gently. “It’s Y/N. I think she would want to know.”

Sunghoon considers it—for a brief half-minute, he actually thinks about it—and then shakes his head. “It’s better to keep her safe.”

You have the worst possible timing. (Perhaps it’s Sunghoon’s fault for having given you a spare key to his apartment.)

The door swings open and you walk into the living room, two bags of takeaway in your hand. “Guess who’s got food!”

Then you pause, survey the situation in front of you, and your jaw drops.

Sunghoon and Heeseung, both on the couch, sitting so close to each other, their knees are brushing. Sunghoon’s hands are still being held by Heeseung, the latter rubbing circles on his palm. Belatedly, Sunghoon realises what this must look like to you.

He shoots up to his feet. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Oh my God.” You raise your arms. “Am I interrupting something? I’m so sorry, I had no idea! I’ll just—”

“No, wait! Heeseung and I, we’re not—”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Your repeated reassurances don’t do anything to assure him. “You guys look good together! Congratulations on graduating from cherry boy university, Hoon!”

Sunghoon lowers his head, crimson creeping up his cheeks. He turns around and faces Heeseung, who’s busy snickering on the couch. “This is all your fault.”

You look between them curiously. “Are you both dating?”

“No,” Sunghoon says at the same time Heeseung says, “Possibly.”

He glares at his friend. “No, Y/N, we are not together. Heeseung knows I like someone else.”

“You like someone else?”

There’s the barest hint of hurt in your tone, a slight hitch in your voice that Sunghoon picks up on easily. “I—yes.”

“You never told me.”

Your voice is carefully calm and you fiddle with the handle of the takeaway bags. Sunghoon winces; he takes a step forward and grabs your elbow, gently forcing you to look up at him. “I was going to tell you. I just… forgot.”

It's the worst possible excuse he could come up with. Your eyes harden. Thankfully, Heeseung swoops in. “He’ll tell you soon, Y/N. He just never has good timing.”

You poke your tongue in the inside of your cheek. “It… doesn’t matter. I brought Chinese,” you say, lips pursed into a threadbare smile, “so all that’s left is to pick the movie.”

You move into the living room and playfully poke Heeseung’s legs to make space. Sunghoon closes the door behind you, a heavy feeling in his gut.

He’s fucked up. Big time. No matter what, he can’t get the look of dejectedness on your face out of his mind.

Sunghoon decides he’s going to tell you. Somehow. Even if you don’t return his feelings, at least he’ll be free of the burden of keeping them hidden.

With new conviction in his head, he strides over to where you are.

FOUR — THE SUBTLE ART OF GETTING HIT ON

Sunghoon loves you—he really does—but despite his obvious affection towards you, he still thinks you’re acting slightly (read: extremely) delusional.

“A… Spider-Man love blog?” he asks weakly, sitting opposite you.

“Yeah!” You nod your head vigorously, obviously excited. “J. Jonah Jameson started a Spider-Man conspiracy theory blog, so I figured I need to start a blog to support Spider-Man and all his endeavours. Too much hate is a bad thing, and… well, he is kind of hot. Objectively speaking.”

Sunghoon doesn’t know whether to grimace at the fact that J. Jonah Jameson started a page on conspiracy theories about him, laugh at the fact that you want to start a blog to support him, or melt like an ice cream on a hot summer afternoon at the fact that you just called him objectively hot.

He tries to do a mixture of all three. You glance at him, concerned. “Did you just have a stroke or something?”

Sunghoon purses his lips together, going back to his usual deadpan expression. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” you say dismissively. “Well, what do you think of the blog idea?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Sunghoon agrees. “It’s like a little Spider-Man support group. Except you aren’t suffering from addiction.”

“Exactly!” you agree, perking up even more. “That’s actually a really cool slogan, thanks Hoon.”

“No problem.” Sunghoon feels his mouth dry, but before he can second guess himself, he says, “Hey, you said Spider-Man is hot?”

“Hm? Yeah, what about it?”

“You know who else is hot?”

“Tom Holland?” Your eyes widen excitedly. “Oh, I know! Andrew Garfield!”

“No—I mean, yes but—” Sunghoon heaves out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t talking about them.”

You cock your head to the side. “Who do you mean, then?”

He takes in a deep breath, forcing his heart to calm down. “I was talking about—”

He’s about to say you when the fire alarm rings. You stand up, eyes widening—not with excitement, but with panic flaring up inside you. Sunghoon stands up too; how did he not notice something was off? The hair at the back of his neck tingles. He needs to get you out of here—now.

“Y/N,” he says hurriedly, “you need to leave. Go out the fire escape.” He shoves you none too gently towards the fire escape, but you stumble forward and then stop.

“Hoon,” you say, and he can hear the mounting fear in your voice, “what about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he assures. A series of bangs follows his statement, and he narrows his eyes at the direction of the sound. “But you need to leave. Now.”

You open your mouth to say something, but when you hear a loud clang echo down the stairwell, you close your mouth and run towards the staircase. Sunghoon waits for you to disappear from his sight, before turning on his heel and grabbing his suit from his bag.

God, supervillains really have the worst timing. All Sunghoon wanted to do was tell you he thought you were hot, too, but that he found you more beautiful than anything else.

FIVE — THE SUBTLE ART OF EXPOSING YOUR CRUSH

Sunghoon is so, so tired.

He lands in front of a small, quiet lake in a park you used to come to with him. The ambience is perfect for when you want to spend time alone, in solitude. A family of ducks paddles gently over the water; it’s peaceful and serene—completely unlike the destruction he just had to deal with, and the turbulence currently running through his mind.

He pulls his mask off his head and runs a tired hand through his hair. Wearily, he sinks down onto the grass, feeling the cool breeze caress his skin and the rustle of the leaves of the giant tree under whose shade he’s sitting.

He blinks once, slowly, and then again, and when a duck lets out a quack, he opens his mouth and lets everything spill out, like sand pouring through an overturned hourglass.

(He’s aware he’s talking to ducks. He doesn’t care.)

“Screw this shit. I never wanted to be a hero, you hear me? I never wanted to be bitten by a stupid spider, I didn’t ask for all this—I didn’t ask for all this! God, what does a guy need to do to have some time to tell his best friend he’s in love with her?!”

His rant falls on silent ears—but then, he hears the crunch of dried leaves, and he whips around.

Your head pokes out from behind the tree trunk. “Hoon?”

“Y/N,” he breathes out, scrambling to his feet. “What are you—”

“You said you’d be right behind me!” Despite the false bravado in your voice, he can hear how wobbly you actually sound.

“I-I was. Technically.” He takes a tentative step towards you, one arm stretched out placatingly.

“You never told me you were Spider-Man!” Your voice increases in pitch steadily with each word.

“I didn’t tell you to protect you—”

“Oh my God, you were in mortal peril every day and I didn’t even know!”

“Heeseung said the same thing, but—”

“Heeseung knew all along, of course he did!”

“I only told him because—”

“And—and now you’re telling me you’re in love with me!”

“Okay, I wasn’t telling you, I was telling the ducks, but—”

“Sunghoon!” You throw your hands up in the air wildly, gaze roaming rapidly across his face. “You’re in love with me!”

He sucks in a breath sharply. “I feel like that’s not the most important thing here.”

Of all the ways he thought he would confess to you, this is decidedly not something that crossed his mind even once. He’d always pictured flowers, holding your hand, maybe even a romantic stroll down this very park. He’d certainly never imagined you’d find out about both his secrets on the same day—all while he was busy ranting about his hero complex to a bunch of birds who didn’t pay him any attention.

“Y/N,” he tries again, “please let me explain.”

You shake your head. “No. There’s nothing there to explain.”

With that, you turn away and walk past him. Sunghoon’s heart sinks. He crumples the material of the mask in his hand, feeling the cloth twist underneath his fingertips just like his heart twists into knots with every step you take away from him.

PLUS ONE — THE SUBTLE ART OF KISSING YOUR BEST FRIEND

You have Sunghoon cornered, your arms crossed across your chest and your expression stern. “You need to listen to me.”

Sunghoon gulps. It’s been a week since he accidentally let both his secrets slip, and this is the first time he’s talking to you in person since then. You’d sent him a text with a simple message. Library, first thing after lunch. Sunghoon had complied, and here he is now.

“So. Heeseung explained everything to me,” you say.

“He—he did?”

You glance at him shortly. “Yeah, he did. I… I understand why you didn’t tell me about—about your condition, Hoon. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself.”

“It’s okay,” he replies immediately. “If I found out my best friend was a secret vigilante risking his life every day, I think I’d react the same way.”

You smile at him then, and his heart jumps inside his chest. He smiles back. “But that’s not the main reason I called you here,” you continue. “What I really called you here for was…”

You trail off, looking down, and Sunghoon is hit with a sudden sense of nostalgia. Why are you being so bashful around him all of a sudden? “Was…” he gently prompts.

You swallow, lifting up your chin and looking him in the eye. “I wanted to tell you that I’m in love with you too.”

Park Sunghoon swears time stops, and the whole world comes to a standstill. The words ring in his ears, echoing inside his head. His lips part, and he stares at you, flabbergasted.

“I—Say that again.” His voice is barely more than a whisper.

He sees the flicker in your eyes, notices how you’re ready to compete with him for this. “I love you, Park Sunghoon. I don’t care about the fact that you’re Spider-Man.”

Sunghoon takes a step towards you, holding your shoulders gently, like you’re made of glass. “I love you too.”

You grin at him, your own arms encircling his waist and coming to rest on his back. “I know that.”

And then you tip your head forward and capture his lips with your own. He gasps at first, before kissing you back with equal force, one hand tugging you closer to him and the other curving around your torso.

You giggle into the kiss, and Sunghoon’s lips twitch upwards. He’s giddy, weightless, floating through the air like a feather being carried by the wind. The feeling he gets when he’s swooping through the rooftops of the city is nothing compared to the feeling of your lips slotted against his and his arms wrapped around you.

Park Sunghoon swears he doesn’t try to act stupid normally. But if it makes you smile, he’s willing to do anything.

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #sunghoon imagines #enhypen imagines #sunghoon x y/n #enhypen x y/n #sunghoon x you #enhypen x you #enha x reader #enah fluff #enha imagines #enha x y/n #enha x you #enhypen #enha #park sunghoon #sunghoon

802 notes · View notes

milkteahood · 8 months ago

Text

texas heat

Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader

Warning: smut! minors dni!!!

Summary: basically a smut with a plot

Sweat broke on your forehead as you wiped it still half asleep. It was terribly hot to even rest. As your eyes opened and started to adjust to the darkness around you, thoughts about the whole situation were still fresh in your mind. How long has it been? You thought to yourself. A few months maybe? 4? 5?

You stopped counting the days after the first few weeks. What for anyway? It wasn’t like you were ever leaving.

***

“Come on boys! We are completely lost!” your friend spoke, gesturing with her hands.

“It’s fine! It’s all good. A little detour” the driver laughed without a care in the world.

“That’s right Sam! Stop being so difficult. Look, Y/N isn’t saying anything” the other guy talked from the passenger’s seat.

At the mention of your name, you looked up from your book, and then quickly got back to it. You weren’t actually reading, but they weren’t paying attention to that. If they did, they would’ve seen you didn’t turn any page in the last 5 minutes. Pretending was just a good excuse to be out of this circus of conversation.

You didn’t consider any of them your friends. And you were sure they didn’t think of you as that either. They were Sam’s friends. And Sam was your friend out of convenience, just as you were to her. You wanted to travel, and she didn’t want to be the only girl on the trip.

“Come on Y/N!” Sam started “whose side are you on?”

“Maybe we should stop and ask for directions” you finally raised a point.

“Yeah? And where the fuck would we stop for that?” the driver asked “there is nothing around here!”

A sigh escaped your lips and you finally put the book down, looking out the window. Then, suddenly, you pressed your finger on the window, gesturing in the distance “there, it looks like a house”.

Little did any of you know this was the beginning of a whole new chapter in your life.

***

Rubbing your eyes, you looked at the little clock on your nightstand. 11:30 pm it said. It wasn’t that late, yet you couldn’t remember when you fell asleep. Realistically, the only one still awake was Thomas. The thought of that made you freeze in place. Oh yes, you thought to yourself again the summer isn’t the only reason I can’t sleep.

Another sigh left your lips. You didn’t think you would end up in this situation. Spared by a bunch of cannibals for the sole reason you smacked the driver when he started insulting Thomas.

***

“Hello?” the driver’s friend… Jason? Jack? Jeremy? J something. You couldn’t remember. Your name memory was never your strongest suit.

“Hello?” J began knocking again. And a second time. Just before knocking for a 3rd time, a woman opened the door.

“Yes? Who are you?” she spoke.

“Oh hello ma’am!” Sam approached “we are completely lost. We were wondering if you could give us any directions”

Luda Mae looked all of you up and down before speaking “come inside. You will die of the heat before you get any directions”

The boys looked at each other and you looked at Sam. But ultimately decided to follow the lady inside.

***

The memories were still fresh and you were sure they would be for the rest of your life. As you lay on your back, looking around the room, you felt your heart skip a beat as another thought made itself apparent. Thomas. Or better said. Your crush on Thomas. In the past month or so, you tried your best to get close to him. You offered to help with everything and anything he needed. Yet, he did his best to avoid you. You weren’t dumb, you knew exactly why. He was absolutely terrified at the idea you’re just fucking around. Lying. Being nice to him so he wouldn’t kill you.

“For fucks sake Thomas. I was nice to you even before I knew you butchered people for a living” you whispered yelled alone, in your room.

***

“So kids, how did you end up here?” Luda Mae asked, trying to see if you would make a good addition to the Hewitt meat supply. Were you going somewhere? Was someone important waiting for you? What was the chance of people coming to look for you? Those were important questions that needed answers. They couldn’t risk killing someone that could potentially lead the police to them.

As the conversation was unfolding, the driver and J became more and more impatient to leave, and your head cocked when hearing some footsteps. Before you realized it, this massive man was sitting in the doorway, breathing heavily, not saying a word.

“Oh Tommy! Look! We have guests” Luda Mae said, looking at her son. Thomas was tall, a huge man, his apron covered in blood.

“Oh fuck! What the fuck is that? He looks like—” the driver said but didn’t get to finish whatever insults he was going to spew because you smacked him.

“Just shut up. For once. Not everything revolves around you and your daddy’s money. You can’t just speak this way to people” you said, while he looked you completely shocked. No one has ever dared speak to him that way. Let alone slap him.

And that was the moment Luda Mae decided you would be the only one left alive.

***

The floor was cooler than the bed. You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was so dark you could barely see, only managing to make out your silhouette. You stood there for a while, thinking of what you should do.

You liked Thomas from the moment you saw him. You tried to befriend him but all he did was ignore you. On the occasions he actually had to interact with you, he looked so tense, like he was on the verge of exploding. You tried to give him space, but it wasn’t really helping. And now you were pacing around your room, unable to sleep because all you wanted was Thomas. The man who killed your “friends”.

What the fuck is wrong with me… he’s a murderer, his whole family is crazy.

Yes and so are you. I mean, you’re not running. You think he’s hot. This man could dismember you in a heartbeat and you think he is attractive. Talk about fucked up.

You frowned at your own thoughts. Thomas wasn’t a monster. He did what he had to. Yet what was your excuse? Falling for him?

Your heart started racing. Yes, you were falling for him.

After what seemed like an eternity, you went out of your room, down the stairs and into the living room. You stopped in front of the basement stairs and listened. Thomas was definitely still down there and it was now or never.

In the basement Thomas was still butchering some meat, not hearing you walk in over the sound of his cleaver. He didn’t like you coming there, he always thought you would judge him, mock him even.

“Thomas” you spoke, your voice making him stop with the cleaver still in the air. He lowered it and turned to you, not saying anything.

“It’s late Thomas. Maybe you should call it a day” you spoke softly, almost afraid to startle him.

You didn’t get a response. Then, he just turned around and continued what he was doing.

This made you frown and it hurt a little. Maybe he was not liking you as much as you liked him. Maybe he didn’t like you at all. However this couldn’t be further from the truth. He did like you. A lot. Which is why he was so scared to be around you.

You bit your lip, a little too hard, and decided to approach him. The second your hand touched his arm, Thomas completely froze. His body was incredibly tense and all he managed to do was look at you.

“Did I do something to upset you?” you tilted your head “you always seem to ignore me. I’m sorry if I upset you at all”.

Thomas’s wide widened. You were apologizing to him? What for? You thought he was mad at you? But how could he? He grunted back at you. In the beginning it was very difficult to understand him, but now you could make up the words he was saying. He said no.

“Well then what is it?” you pressed him, gently rubbing his arm. His eyes looked like they could come out of his head, immediately shifting his gaze away from you, almost shaking.

“Thomas, Tommy, oh no” you reached for his other hand which was still tight around the cleaver. Gesturing for him to let it go, you managed to turn him so he’d face you. “You’re ok. Everything is ok” you said, looking at him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. I’m sorry. I will go upstairs” you gave him a bit of a sad smile and turned to walk away. Yet, you didn’t get to take two steps before he stopped you. As you turned to him, he gave you another grunt. Stay. This one meant stay.

Both of you were blushing. Your brave girl facade paled the moment you felt his hand around your arm. Compared to him, you were incredibly tiny and for that, he treated you as if you were made of glass. Because to him, you were.

You stepped in front of him, both of you looking at each other. You learned to be gentle with him, maybe even more gentle than he was with you. Because unlike you, he never had people not be terrified of him.

Smiling, you cupped his face in your hands, which caught him off guard, but he didn’t stop you. For whatever reason, you were here, you didn’t try to run away, and you were kind to him. Before he knew it, he was leaning into your touch.

“Tommy?”

He opened his eyes, waiting for you to continue.

“I really like you, Thomas”

His now open eyes were widened, staring at you, almost looking through you, waiting to see any shred of dishonesty. But there was none. You were genuine. He then couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with you. How could you like him? No. He didn’t care. You liked him. And he was going to take it.

He didn’t realize some time passed without giving you an answer, which caused you to mumble another apology. He, however, didn’t let you finish. You soon found yourself in a hug. A very tight hug. Which you happily reciprocated.

After pulling away, you both looked at each other and without much of a second thought, you pulled the other into a kiss. It was reckless and full of built up frustrations on both parts. You were the first to pull away.

“Thomas.. it’s difficult to kiss you with that mask on”

He didn’t say anything and looked away. He didn’t want to show you. There was finally something he had and showing you his face might ruin it. He grunted a no.

“Please..” you pleaded while cupping his face again.

He damned himself for being so weak around you. You looked sad and a little disappointed. He let out a huge sigh and slowly took off his mask, letting it fall on the floor and completely avoiding your gaze. Whatever disgusted face you made, he didn’t want to see. Only if he looked to see it was not disgust but love.

“Fuck me you’re handsome” was all you said before pulling him in and kissing him again. He looked like a deer in headlights, but quickly melted into your kiss, picking you up and placing you on his workbench.

Your legs were wrapped around him, your hands pulling at his hair while he was tightly holding you by your waist. You felt his erection press against you, so you pushed yourself closer to him, which caused Thomas to grunt and moan into the kiss.

Thomas was the one to pull away this time, spending some time admiring you. Slowly, you started to unbutton his shirt “you can help me with mine if you want” you said a little flustered.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Once you felt his excitement, you knew Thomas was coming out of his shell. Soon enough yours and his shirts were thrown on the floor, and you were making out on the cold and hard workbench. You didn’t care, you also didn’t care that his grips wound leave bruises. You just wanted him. He cupped your breast, gently squeezing, earning himself a moan from you and the confirmation that he is doing it right.

“Please Tommy” you whined between kisses, tugging at his belt.

He wanted to so bad. But what if he hurt you? He had no what what he was doing. But how could he resist you? His whole body was shaking, you were begging him to have sex with you. Him. He pulled away from the kiss and quickly undid his belt and pants, making himself moan as he pulled his cock out. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Thomas naked in front of you. You look off your underwear and pull him into another kiss.

You didn’t think much before starting to palm his length, causing him to moan into your mouth. Thomas started thrusting as you were stroking him. He could cum just like that, but you wanted more. And he did too.

As your back rested on the cold table, Thomas climbed on top of you, neither daring to break the kiss. You couldn’t even wrap your legs around him, a detail he found really cute. He pulled away from the kiss only to look at your expression again. Was this really ok? Is this really what you wanted? You looked so beautiful and so turned on. Rubbing yourself against his erection was all the confirmation he needed before slowly starting to push his cock into you.

Feeling him inside you completely knocked the air out of you, immediately kissing him again, moaning into his mouth. Your figure, your voice, your shaking body were making Thomas go feral. His grunts on the other hand made your whole stomach feel hot. Thomas was thrusting into you, firmly holding your waist with one hand and supporting himself up with the other. Your arms were wrapped around his back, face buried into his neck, trying to muffle your moans.

He was hitting all the right spots, causing your mind to go blank and your nails to dig into his skin. Once his voice became shakier, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned and he responded by thrusting even harder. It was almost as if your every moan was making Thomas go more feral.

His rhythm was becoming more erratic, signaling that he was getting closer.

“It ok Tommy” you said between moans “I want you. Fill me up, please Tommy”.

Saying that was enough to push him over the edge. After a few more thrusts he came with a low, guttural moan, completely intoxicated by you.

You were both panting and looking at each other afterward. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Were you a dream? No. You were there, smiling at him. Did that mean you were his now? Yes. Most definitely.

He picked you up off of the table, squeezing you close to him. He was still panting and so were you, yet, both happy and finally content.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt smut #thomas hewitt x reader smut #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt image #thomas hewitt x you #slasher x y/n #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slasher x you #slashers smut #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher smut #thomas hewitt fanfic

1K notes · View notes

letorip · 2 months ago

Note

can you write something short and fluffy :( like jenna or wednesday being tired or something

j's lullaby

"darlin' i'd wait for you, even if you didn't ask me to"

===+++===

pairing: jenna ortega x reader

summary: jenna comes home incredibly late and can't wait to collapse into your arms after a long day

warnings: nada, entirely just fluff and comforting someone's exhaustion

word count: 1.2k

A/N: sorry for getting to this now, it was requested months and months ago. feels good to write something sweet for once, and without somewhere to branch off to. i like writing my stories, but it's fun to leave so much up to the reader. maybe i'll do more of these.

===+++===

Even from inside the warmth of your apartment, it was impossible to be unaware of the raging storm outside. You could hear the pattering of raindrops upon the stucco roof in small thuds that had faded gently into the background a good thirty minutes ago and given no indication of letting up anytime soon, either.

Not that it would have mattered. You stood in the kitchen with the kettle going on the stove, attempting to read a rather enthralling chapter of your book in the dim, warm light that hung over your microwave, and then rereading it for a third or fourth time when the words became an unintelligible mess in your head, whether it be from the lack of light or sluggish ability to think.

It was a little too late to turn the kitchen light on, not that you were a big fan of the overhead light, but it would've brought a crude harshness to the drowsiness you were attempting to fight off.

Even night owls had their limitations. Sleep snuck up on you at the wispy edges, pulling down on your eyelashes. The clock on your microwave ticked to 4:28, and you turned the page in your book, hearing the kettle's whistle begin to take frequency, one you were sure the neighbours could hear.

In retrospect the somewhat thin walls were the only thing imperfect about the place, with giant windows and warm, teakwood floors. That and your kitchen's tile floor being kind of cold in the morning, but even then, both you and Jenna wore socks in the house, so it wasn't much of a drawback. You would only live there for a few weeks more anyhow, before you both went back to Los Angeles. In the meantime you could cope with the plush floor rug that Natalie had sent.

With one thumb on the thin page of your beaten up novel and the rest of that hand pinning it to the countertop, you lifted the kettle gently towards your old ceramic mug with the chip in the corner and a teabag’s string hanging over the side. The hot water steamed and gently wafted over the apples of your cheeks, and it added a further weight, the room filling with a flowery smell.

As you grabbed a small spoon from the drawer, the front door’s knob audibly turned, creaking open on its hinges and letting some of the nighttime noise flood in, if only for a moment. You grinned at the noise with an excitement that would’ve been impossible to mask, stirring your drink and calling over your shoulder, down the hall. “Hey, in here.”

The door swung shut behind her and a few, tired steps later, Jenna stood in the doorway. You stayed focused on the task at hand, stirring your tea, but you could feel her eyes stay locked upon your face. She wandered over, coming up behind you where you stood and wrapping her arms around your torso, pressing the plane of her cheek against your shoulder blade.

She held you tightly, as if she wanted to melt together. “You didn’t have to wait up for me. It’s almost 5 in the morning.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” you shrugged. “I wanted to.” Her arms wrapped around you just a bit tighter, holding you there and sighing into the soft, worn fabric of your old shirt.

“I made tea,” you hummed. “Do you want any?” She shook her head into your back, almost purring in contentment.

“‘M too tired,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, you got back late,” you said, pushing the tea mug away and turning around to get a good look at her. She was beautiful, that was a given, but she also looked exhausted, with thick, dark eye bags and the tips of her dark bangs a little bit wet from the rain outside.

“Tim wanted to talk about the big scene we have coming up,” she whispered. You hummed again, watching her with a little bit of concern and she looked back at you with a fondness.

“Come on, off to bed with you,” you straightened up, holding out your hand for her to take, and grabbing your book with a finger left between the binding to hold your spot.

She rolled her eyes with a gentle huff but did not protest, letting you lead her gently into your bedroom. There were still a few candles you had lit for just in case during the storm, filling your room with a yellowish, warm glow, and you blew them out while Jenna got changed into her pyjamas.

“Oh, your mum called, by the way,” you said with a gentle smile, pulling the sheets back to sit on the edge. You pulled your woollen, thick socks off and flung them towards the far wall; you could pick them up tomorrow.

She gave you a sleepy nod, wandering towards the bathroom and sliding the door open. “Just checking in?”

“Yeah, wants you to call her tomorrow… which I guess is now today. She wants to her all about work.” You thumbed open your book while you waited for her to finish brushing her teeth, reading a few lines before she reappeared about a minute later, flicking off the light.

Jenna walked right over, pulling the sheets back and then practically collapsing on top of you, her head nuzzling into your neck. You could feel the cold edge of her nose pressing gently against the edge of your jaw, and it sent a small shiver down your spine. You put the book on your bedside table, sliding your eyeglasses off of your weary ears and stacking it on top, along with clicking the lamp off.

You would’ve planted a kiss upon her forehead, but she seemed all too comfortable for you to shift your position, and you were quite certain— though you couldn’t actually see— that her eyes were already closed and she was letting her exhaustion take over.

“I missed you, today,” she whispered.

“I missed you too.”

“Hm.” You both sat in silence for a minute, and you were convinced she had dozed off until she spoke again, even quieter than before. “Tell me about your day, love?”

“Well, let’s see,” you sighed. “Got up around 10, maybe? Did laundry—”

“Thank you for that, by the way,” she mumbled, nuzzling her face further into you.

“Mhm. Went to the shops. Made dinner. Watched that show I told you about.”

“Did you write, today?” The words were sluggish and slow, and you could tell she was lulling to sleep more and more.

“Nope,” you said with a small chuckle, and you felt Jenna smile against your neck. “I’m still waiting for that burst of creativity, y’know? I’ll find it when I find it. What about you? How was your day?”

But she didn’t answer, and you were perfectly fine with that. You could ask her in the morning, after all. And you could drink the cold tea you had completely forgotten about then, too.

short, sweet, and pretty cute. i'm happy with it. i think oneshots are incredibly fun. also calm yourself, i'm still finishing kiss with a fist [iv] i cannot stress enough how much i'm excited for it but it is NOT ready yet

#answered #letorip #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

459 notes · View notes

planetdream · 4 months ago

Text

WAITING, WATCHING !

CHARACTERS ! stalker!han jisung, reader

GENRE ! thriller. smut. minors dni WORDS ! nearly 2k

SYNOPSIS ! jisung is obsessed with you. you’re his angel. all his. only his.

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! stalking. obsessive behavior. voyeurism/window peeking. breaking and entering. picture taking. panty sniffing + panty thievery. fem. masturbation.

💌 i’m on season 7 of my criminal minds binge. needed this out of my head; not sure i like it, but i wanted to share it.

For the first time in months, you have the house to yourself. Jisung knows that for sure. In fact, this morning at 5:32 AM, he spotted your roommate exiting the front door of your home. A backpack slung around her shoulders and a large suitcase parked beside her as she locked the front door. Her ride, a black SUV, pulls up and the driver hops out to place her bags in the trunk. By 5:35 AM, your roommate has driven off to her destination, and Jisung continues his surveillance of your home.

What is meant to be his living room lies a single chair displayed in front of the large window that faces the front of your home. On the occasion of movement, J might bring his binoculars to his eyes and gulp, aching to see more of you. He sits there for hours at a time, hyperfocusing, waiting for signs of you.

Jisung has been watching you long enough to know your daily routine. He’s watched you from directly outside of your bedroom window. He knows the time you wake up; that it takes you approximately fifteen minutes to fully awaken from your precious slumber. He knows that after you awaken, you move directly to the bathroom for a good five to seven minutes or an hour depending on the day. And once you exit, you make your way to the kitchen—but your breakfast choices vary on the day. Sometimes you treat yourself with a big, balanced breakfast. Other days, especially if you’re in a rush due to sleeping in late, you have fruit, cereal, or you skip the meal altogether.

By 6:23 AM this morning, Jisung makes his way over to your home. A short stroll, as he’s not worried about being seen. Jisung follows his normal path to the left of your home, making his way to the far back to peer into your bedroom window. You’re stirring in your sleep. Probably plagued by a vivid dream, Jisung thinks. The hour flies by, and he remains unfazed, eyes fixed on your sleeping form.

Jisung remains in his same position for the next two hours; his watch reads fifteen til nine. You’re sleeping in today, unwilling to release yourself from the clutches of your bed. A brief moment goes by where you lift your head to check your phone; tossing it aside to snuggle into your comforter. For a second, Jisung imagines that you see him staring at you through your window. He feels as though he knows you enough to gauge your reaction—craves to watch your eyes widen in terror, mouth agape, all color drained from your face the moment you notice him. Then you would run. That’s no use, though, Jisung knows the layout of your home as if it were his. There aren’t many places you can hide.

You wake up slowly. Unable to fully shake the sleep from your eyes, you stare up towards the ceiling. Another day you’ve woken up feeling sick, uneasy even. It’s a struggle to get out of bed, the room is hot, and despite being tangled into your comforter, you feel sticky. Jisung watches as you slowly peel yourself from your bed, walking out of the door.

You’re going into your bathroom, Jisung knows that. Judging by the expression on your face, he assumes you’re going to take a moderately long shower. You’ll probably be spending most of the time thinking, Jisung assumes. And from the shower, you return to your room to get dressed. Initially, Jisung would leave whenever you’re naked—he wanted to give you privacy. Yet things change, progressing over time, and Jisung has been interested in every single aspect of you for a long time.

He watches as you slip the towel off, walking around your room; from your closet to your dresser and back, trying to find a suitable outfit for the day. You pick out an outfit, aligning the shirt up against the pair of pants you’ve picked. Jisung shakes his head. Soon after, as do you. He knows you. Judging by your progress this morning, it’s likely you’ll pick an all black ensemble. He’s right, of course, after an additional eight minutes you choose a black t-shirt and leggings.

You check the time on your phone. Late as usual, Jisung thinks, he can’t help but laugh at how common it is for you to be running late. Even when things are within your control, somehow even when you’re on time, you’re late. Jisung watches how you nearly trip over yourself in effort to collect all your things and rush out of the door.

You return home later than usual, around 5:34 PM. Jisung has long since returned to his home, following his off-hour routine in preparation of your return. While his day has been mediocre at best, stressful must be the word that describes your day. You’re holding your bag in your hand, unusual as it’s typically strung over your shoulder. You seem tense, shoulders slightly raised, fidgeting with your keys for a few seconds too long.

Jisung sets his coffee mug down beside him. He stretches, throwing his sweatshirt over his head. Without another thought, Jisung is heading to his front door, one foot in front of the other. He stops in his tracks, making sure to grab something important. Like this morning, Jisung is back with a sly stroll to your home. He’s got tunnel vision, making no effort to see if any neighbors are around; Jisung finds that, if you don’t notice them, often, they don’t notice you. He slips into your backyard undetected.

You’re exactly where Jisung figured you would be. In your room, displayed across your bed as if only for him. Jisung exhales, a weight lifts off his shoulders when he sees you. You’re laying on your back, almost swallowed into the mess of sheets you didn’t smooth out this morning. Your shirt is thrown across the room, and the contents of the bag you were holding are spilling out on the floor. Not to mention, the creme dela creme, your pants are bunched around your ankles—you gave up at the last moment, fiending to scratch that itch.

Jisung licks his lips. What a beauty on display for his special viewing. He can’t see too much, only the side of you, but it’s just enough for him. Jisung watches as your breasts move with every movement you make, it’s only slightly, but he notices it. He believes he can see the seconds in which your nipples grow harder, only imagining how they would feel on his tongue.

You work between your legs, head thrown back in ecstasy, fingers guided in fast circles over your clit. Oh, how much easier this would be if you had a toy to play with. Jisung thinks something similar: it would be so much easier if he were in the room with you. To touch you, kiss you. To hold you through the night and promise you that everything is going to be alright as long as he’s by your side. But it’s all too early for that. You’re not ready yet.

Click! Jisung captures the moment. Picture after picture, varying in stages of ecstasy. With each picture, you get closer and closer to your orgasm. Your free hand glides upward to tug at your nipple, fingers slipping into your cunt, palm of your hand grinding against your clit. It takes a moment, but the build up is all too electrifying. Your orgasm hits you in waves, rippling across your body with heat, body shaking, fingers refusing removal from your clit. You cum with a loud moan, and Jisung wishes he could hear it. Click!

Jisung’s breathing is just as heavy as yours. He’s squeezing at the bulge in his pants, though it doesn’t stop him from leaking into them. He’s caught in a fantasy—you’re riding him from behind, eyes trained on your ass. You’re moaning his name, cunt slurping, sucking in his cock. You’re doing all the work, Jisung is just taking everything in. How smooth and soft your skin is, how you react to the sharp sting of his palm coming down against your skin. When Jisung re-enters reality, he finds that you’ve fallen asleep. He waits a few minutes to make sure, watching how your breathing evens out. Now is his time to act.

It’s 6:35 now. Jisung walks around the house, scouting until he reaches your roommates window. He pops it open with no trouble, lifting himself up into the room. He barely takes a second look at things in the room, your roommate is of no concern to him. Jisung takes slow, careful steps. This isn’t the first time he’s been inside of your home; it is, however, the first time you’ve both been under the same roof.

He steps out of your roommates room and carefully steps across the hardwood floors towards your door. He opens the door slowly, stepping in, one foot after the other. He’s practiced this, over and over, while you and your roommate are at work or elsewhere. How he’d sneak into your room while you’re sleeping to watch over you.

You are absolutely perfect. Your chest rises slowly as you inhale, exhaling just as calmly. You kicked off your pants and underwear; and Jisung steps up to receive his trophy, picking your panties off of the floor. Red cotton panties. Without hesitation, he brings the panties to his nose, inhaling deeply. His eyes roll back into his head, he’s feeling lightweight; unstoppable. There’s something in your scent that drives him mad. He snatches the item away, trying to stay level headed.

Jisung turns towards you. He wants to touch you, he craves it—but it can’t be like this. He tucks the panties into his pocket and takes out his camera. He captures pictures of your delicate body, so unaware of his presence. He wonders, would you wake if he touched you? He can’t. He won’t. Jisung chooses only to admire. Pointing the camera to your face, he snaps another picture. You rest so angelically, you must’ve really needed it, he thinks.

“Angel.” He whispers to himself. His voice is brittle, he hasn’t spoken in days.

He takes his final few pictures. Jisung hovers his hand just a few centimeters above your face, as if to gently caress you. He makes his way out of the door, looking back towards you before he closes the door behind him. “See you when you wake, angel.”

Jisung makes his way back into the darkness he calls his home shortly after. Taking no rest, he plops down into his chair, reaching down to seat his laptop on his lap. His hands move fast, with no hesitation, hooking his camera up to his laptop for a better look at the images he’s captured. He works robotically. Reanalyzing each picture he’s taken tonight. He still remembers your scent: cocoa butter and the stained cum left between your legs.

His hands dip into his pocket, bringing the red fabric to his nose. He inhales your scent until he’s lightheaded, staring at all of your pictures until they’re burned into his retinas. Jisung is breathless. He thinks he’s going to lose his mind. He can’t tolerate not being close to you. He has to have you, he needs to hold you.

He gathers all of today's photos and places them into a folder titled Skin. At that moment, he made up his mind. He can’t go on like this, not being able to have you in his possession. He’s taken his time up until now, moving slowly, progressing with his plan. Jisung desires to have you for safekeeping. His lover. His property. His angel. Only his.

It’s time to move onto the next phase of his plan. Luckily for Jisung, the lights in your house just turned on.

#🌑 — vivid dreams #🌑 — vividdream.skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #jisung smut #han smut

489 notes · View notes

jjssweetlover · 8 days ago

Text

what’s jj maybank like in bed? 🤍

pairings: jj maybank x fem!reader

info/warnings: smut, suggestive talk, swearing. can maybe be read as gender neutral.

asks: open! 𝜗𝜚

a/n: this was a request! thank you to the person who wanted this!!

- stamina is insane, although not surprising considering how much he’s running from trouble.

you don’t even know what time it is, all you know is that you guys started at least an hour before sunset and now it’s almost dark out. you were completely winded even with jj doing most of the work.

“j.. jayj— can’t, it’s too much” you spoke the words in a breathy tone.

“jus’ a bit more baby, mhm?” the words were whispered, and you were wondering how he could gather himself so well for being so out of breath.

5 minutes later you guys were finished, he laid by your side and pushed the sweaty hair away from your forehead.

you let out a sigh and whispered. “you’re insane” he laughed and kissed your cheek with a mumbled “i love you” before laying his head down on your chest. he could hear your heart rate slowly coming down to normal and couldn’t hold back a laugh. you lazily slapped his head and he gasped. you shut your eyes and groaned

“shut up smartass”

- 𝜗𝜚

- loves to overstimulate you. finds it funny almost.

as you came down from your high you quickly processed the feeling of jjs tongue still moving on you. your left hand gripped his hair as your right gripped the headboard behind you. “it’s too much jay….” you sighed out, your legs involuntarily closing around his head.

his arms unhooked from atound your legs and went to your knees, pushing them open as he pulled back for a moment, looking up at you. “you can take it” he said in a sure tone before moving his head back down.

you wanted to, but your body was moving away from his mouth. you let out a quiet squeal as his tongue grazed you and he laughed against you, a vibration being sent through your body.

he gave a final kiss to your thigh before pulling away completely with a smile and kissing your hip bone before wiping his mouth.

“sorry baby” he spoke through a laugh, and if you weren’t so out of it right now you would’ve rolled your eyes and slapped him.

- 𝜗𝜚

- isn’t very vanilla but also isn’t into anything too crazy. handcuffing is probably the furthest he goes when it comes to things like that.

- 𝜗𝜚

- will try to do it anytime and anywhere.

“pleaseee..” he groaned, kissing behind your ear. you were on the boat, waiting for the others to come out and join. you’d say you have a good 10 minutes before everyone’s ready to go. you sighed and whispered. “fine… if we can be fast”

immediately jj was getting to work, kissing your neck and pulling down your swim bottoms along with his. He moved at a fast pace and although your mind was now on bigger things , you just hoped the others didn’t walk out of the chateau right now.

- 𝜗𝜚

- his favorite part of your body is your chest, no matter the size.

- 𝜗𝜚

- is very giggly during sex, always making slight jokes or laughing to make you more comfortable.

#gracie’s corner - 𝜗𝜚 #jjssweetlover #jj maybank #jjmaybank x reader #jjmaybank smut #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader smut #obx #obx headcanon #obx season 4 #obx4 #obx x reader #obx x you #obx x y/n #writing might be bad soso sorry

252 notes · View notes

fujoshirat · 26 days ago

Text

₊˚⊹♡ Children Guide! ₊˚⊹♡

Haru and Aki - 9 years old (twin boys)

Yuu (Yuuri) and Yue (Yueru) - 7 years old (twins, male and female)

Hana - 5 years old female

₊˚⊹♡

Shouto does not cry often.

Ever since you've known him, even as a high school teenager at U.A., you had hardly seen him cry.

He cried after defeating Dabi.

He cried at graduation, worried that he would never see you again.

He cried at your wedding.

And he cried every time he held a new bundle of joy in his arms.

You and Shouto have five beautiful children. Two sets of twins and a daughter. Out of all of your children, Hana was the most sensitive. Practically a carbon copy of you (a miracle because all of your other children looked like your husband), the five-year-old inherited your empathy and sensitivity. She was the sweetest one with the biggest heart but when she cried, it seemed like it would never end.

As the youngest, especially the youngest daughter who just so happened to look a little too much like you, Shouto was wrapped around her little finger. Sure, your other daughter Yue loved attention from her father, but she preferred showing off how "cool" she was to her uncles (Shouto was and is still very worried about how she'll grow up in the future if she keeps hanging around with Katsuki, but oh well).

Every night, after dinner, Shouto carries Hana up the stairs of the traditional yet modern Japanese family home and helps her get ready for bed.

₊˚⊹♡

One night, while reading a book in bed, you hear the door open as usual. Not bothering to look up, you continue reading.

"Are all of the children in bed already?"

You wait for a response, but nothing comes out of his mouth. Your ears perk up at the sound of shuffling, and you look towards your husband.

"Shouto? What's wrong?"

He looks at you with a pout on his face, his teeth biting his bottom lip. You quickly put the book down and quirk a brow.

"Baby?"

Shouto just sighs and gets into bed. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, his short hair (shorter than it was in high school) tickling your chin.

Suddenly, you hear the faintest sniffle and feel something wet on your collarbone.

Just like that, Shouto erupts into tears. After a few minutes, the top of your nightgown is soaked and the fabric is bunched up in his hands.

"Shouto, baby, talk to me please. What's wrong, my love?"

You gently cup his face in your hands and tilt his head up to face you. Did something bad happen at work? Is his family alright? He cheeks are stained with tears and his eyes are red. Your husband sighs.

"I failed as a father."

What??? You stare at him in disbelief and shake your head. "Shou, honey, you did not fail as a father and you will not fail as a father. We talked about this before having children. Yo-"

"Hana doesn't want me to carry her upstairs anymore!!"

Your jaw drops as he continues quiet-sobbing in your chest. That was what he was moping about? Your hand gently pats his back, and you have to tilt your head up to stifle a laugh.

"Shou, you're sad about that? Why?"

He looks up at you with an unamused expression, face still adorned with a pout. "Hana doesn't want me anymore."

₊˚⊹♡

After finishing her dinner, Hana clumsily puts her plastic utensils on her plate.

"Hana-chan," you called out while washing dishes, "go get ready for bed, okay?"

"Okay mama!" Taking that as his usual call, Shouto gets up from the couch and walks over to his youngest, whom is already at the stairs. He begins reaching out for her to pick her up.

"Hana, are you ready to-" "Papa, Hana is a big girl now! I wan' to go up by myshelf!" The little girl slips out of his embrace and climbs up the stairs, leaving Shouto slack-jawed and flabbergasted.

"A-ah... alright darling, I'm coming..."

₊˚⊹♡

"Babe, you're still her father. She's five! Maybe she wants to be a little independent like Yue." Shouto grimaces at the comment. Another female Katsuki Bakugou running around in the household? No thank yue (get it? hahahah/j ok nvm im not funny ig).

You kiss his forehead tenderly and look him in the eyes. "Our children won't stay children forever, okay? Hana must grow up sometime, and we felt this way when all of the twins began becoming independent. But just because they are growing up doesn't mean that they don't want us anymore. I still care for my parents and you still care for yours." His heterochromatic eyes gazed at yours, mesmerized and captivated by your beauty and words. Finally, he lets out a quiet sigh and hugs you.

"You are right. Thank you, my love."

₊˚⊹♡

"Bye darling! Have a good day!" Reaching up on your tiptoes while your unfairly tall husband reaches down to meet you halfway, you tenderly kiss him on the lips before he leaves for work. The Haru and Aki fake-gag at the display of affection, making you chuckle in response. Closing the door, you shift your attention to your youngest, busy eating apple slices. You could tell that Shouto was still a little upset about the day before, but he managed to hide it well. You shook your head and went to the kitchen window to water your hydrangea bushes when suddenly you got an idea.

"Yuuri! Yueru! Could you two come here for a second please?"

₊˚⊹♡

"I'm home."

"Papa!!"

As Shouto closed the door, your children rushed to him like a wild herd. A chorus of "Papa!"s and "Guess what!"s filled the room, making Shouto laugh.

"Now, now, one at a time. I missed you all." He picks up Yue as she excitedly rambles about her day. "Papa! Guess what! Mama let all of us take Hana to the park!"

"Oh wow, really? Did you have fun?"

"Mhm! We played tag and ate dango after!" In the corner of his vision, he sees you walk into the living room with the same, breathtaking smile that you always greet him with. Putting his chatty daughter back down, his hands find your waist while his lips press against your forehead.

"Welcome home, my love. Sorry, I was finishing up something."

"You don't need to apologize, darling. Thank you." Taking his hand, you lead him to the dining table. "All of the children except Hana already ate, so you can eat." You turn to look at your youngest, who surprisingly finished her food already.

"Oh? Are you finished, Hana-chan?" The little girl nods tiredly, her chubby cherub cheeks puffed out slightly. Shouto's heart clenches at the sight, but he can't help but notice a subtle shift in your expression, the slight upward quirk of your kissable lips. He watches you approach the five-year-old and help her out of her chair.

"Aw, you don't want some of the cookies we baked two days ago?"

"No mama, Hana's too tired." You giggle softly at your daughter's cute expression and nods. "Alright baby, thank you for finishing your dinner. You made mama and papa very happy." Both you and your husband watch her give you another sleepy nod as she looks up at Shouto.

"Papa, I'm ready for bed." Shouto hesitantly walks closer to his daughter, worried that she'll do the same thing again and reject him.

However, Hana just looks at him with sleepy doe eyes and arms outstretched to him. Her little body stays planted to the ground.

"Papa, I'm waiting. You're s'pposed to carry Hana."

You mentally facepalm at the sassy response and third person referencing while speaking, no doubt one of her classmates taught her that at kindergarten, though you suppose that you can let it slide just this once when you see Shouto visibly tear up. He not-so-subtly brings his left hand up to cover his eyes as his right hand gently picks up Hana as if she were made of glass. As his little princess wraps her arms around his neck and rests her head on his shoulder, he chokes on his words.

"Ah, yes my darling, Papa will always carry you."

You watch your husband walk up the stairs with your youngest, tears spilling from your own eyes.

Well done, (Y/N). Well done.

₊˚⊹♡

The next morning, Shouto appears to have gotten a week's worth of sleep in one night. Extra excited and happy (and clingy), he wouldn't keep his hands off of you. As he put on his boots, however, he hears faint giggling coming from the kitchen. Quietly, he walks to the open archway connecting the kitchen and rest of the house. There, he sees both sets of twins, Haru and Aki and Yuuri and Yueru, as well as you opening your reusable grocery bag and pulling out two chocolate bars. While giving it to the twins, Yue lets out a loud cheer, Aki kicking her shin and shushing her. He observes his pretty wife as she lets out a quiet laugh. "Thank you, my darlings. You really made your father happy."

₊˚⊹♡Extra, prior to the shenanigans₊˚⊹♡

"Yes mama?" The twins say in unison. Your eyes sparkle with a glint of mischief as you lean in close to whisper something.

"I need you to drain Hana-chan's energy today so that she is very sleepy after dinner. I'll give you both a bar of your favorite chocolate if you do this successfully."

Yue, ever the overenergetic twin (who really is just hungry for chocolate), excitedly waves her hand around. "Ooh! Ooh! I know! We'll take her to the park to play tag!"

"Excellent idea!" You clap your hands in agreement and look at Yuu. "Yuuri, darling, could you ask your elder brothers if they would also like to join in?" The more sedate twin nods and starts walking to his elder siblings.

₊˚⊹♡

A/N: Guess who's back from exhaustion and the dead (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) I cannot believe I have been inactive for almost two months and I apologize ToT Hopefully this short fic of mine will make up for the lost time! This idea was hilarious and super fun to write!! I hope that you enjoyed and that it wasn't too hard to follow. I love writing for Shouto I just love that fine-ahh man, so this was super self-indulgent.

October was a mess for me, both physically and mentally. Hopefully by the middle of November will I be less busy. Thank you, readers, for bearing with me and my inactivity, and I hope that you continue enjoying all of my works ♡♡♡

295 notes · View notes

sweetfwr · 15 days ago

Text

SKOOL LUV AFFAIR ˒˒ yjw

it’s your junior year, and all you want is to survive the rest of your high school life away from the prying eyes of others. however it seems the universe has other, more absurd plans, like a secret love affair with the student council president.

genre) FLUFF, high school au, secret relationship, kinda based off a true story..

pairing) student council president!jungwon x newspaper club president!reader

wc) 1.3k

now playing) intro (end of the world) - ariana grande

“she seems sadder, doesn’t she?” a girl you hardly know outside of being a classmate and (barely) an acquaintance murmurs pitifully, and a second, taller girl nods vigorously.

“i would be too if i lost lee heeseung.”

you? sadder? you frown in deep thought. you had forgotten to put on concealer after pulling off an all-nighter and practically flew out of the house once you realized you slept through your alarm, but that was about it.

after all, what reason did you have to be sad? in your humble opinion ranking number 5 out of 452 students and recently being named the head of the school newspaper were hardly mundane things. besides, there’s also j—

“there’s no way they’re getting back together, right?? he’s with someone new, for god’s sake!”

“aren’t you updated?” the taller one gasps, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards when her friend shakes her head no. “they just broke up! heeseung told one of the guys on the football team and the news spread everywhere.”

now that’s something you didn’t know.

“oh my god, he’s single now?”

“he’s been single. my friend’s boyfriend’s cousin is in his class. want me to set you up?”

you think you’d rather go down a waterslide lined with razor blades and land into a pool of alcohol than continue on listening to this nonsense, so you pack up your books, turn up the music in your earbuds, and quietly leave the writing club’s room completely undetected by the other two occupants. you dive into the warm, crowded halls adorned with sunspots and ethereal views of the after-school sunset.

needless gossip is something you can definitely tolerate. when your ex is the school’s poster boy for popular kids, you’ve accepted the irrelevant whispers that have surrounded you since your sudden breakup one full year ago, because kids your age make mistakes, and a little positivity goes a long way!

but as you walk through the halls and slowly come to a stop at the sight of a chattering crowd and lee heeseung making his way through it, frantic gaze looking left and right as if he were looking for someone as he holds a absurdly large bouquet of flowers in his right hand, a pit forms in your stomach for what’s to come.

you take one huge step back in preparation to sprint away, but it’s too late when heeseung’s eyes land on you and he goes completely still.

the crowd-goers around him follow suit in an almost comedic fashion, and some even cock their heads and murmur to each other in confusion when they collectively realise who the bouquet is for.

your ex-boyfriend grips the bouquet a little harder and gulps visibly, before making his way to you in slow steps. his friends, a few of which you can name from the back of your head as jay, sunghoon, and jake follow suit and arrange themselves in a line behind him with illustration board signs that bear horribly written lettering. to your absolute horror, it says:

WILL U B MY GF? (again) in bold with a winky ;) face at the end.

needless gossip, you can handle. public confessions from your ex on the other hand, is something that was completely unfathomable to you only 30 minutes ago. who even does public confessions anymore? especially in school. it’s hot, sweaty, and just so… public. you never know who’s watching, either! including… fuck.

in an internal frenzy, your eyes start darting between the numerous people in the crowd until they land on the yang jungwon’s, student council president, eyebrows furrowed and a hand in his pocket while the other was situated in a deadly grip on one of his backpack straps at the commotion.

“hey,” one guy whispers to his friend, eyes nervously shifting between heeseung and jungwon. “he shouldn’t be doing this infront of the student council president, man. he hates racket in the halls.”

slowly, all the color drains from your face and you’re prompted to leave, immediately, even when heeseung gets on one knee and begins loudly proclaiming his love for you. to his and everyone else’s shock, you rush past him and push through the crowds until you’re out of the building gates and into the open air.

at this point the orange swirls in the skies fade to a dark blue and thunder clouds begin to form above, but you’re too irritated to care. who cares about positivity?! your ex has just started weeks worth of rumours about the two of you when you’ve been trying to fight them off for a full 12 months! you think your uniform might be getting soaked, but a fog clouds your mind and you can’t think straight despite the fact that you’re getting poured on by heaps and heaps of heavy rain.

that is, until an umbrella is quietly held over your head, and you know in your heart exactly who the owner is.

you continue walking, albeit at a slower pace, and he follows behind you wordlessly.

“i can’t believe him, won.” you let yourself complain, for the first time in a long while. “he cheats on me, then he lets everyone and their mom in the halls know hes wants me again? talk about guts, right?” you scoff.

“totally.” despite not being able to see him, you hear his smile, and you know it’s not because he finds your complaining silly. rather, he’s just happy to be around you outside of the constraints of prying eyes at school, even if it is while he trails behind you, holding an umbrella over your head under the pouring rain as you curse and release your frustrations to your heart’s content.

in fact, he genuinely can’t think of a better way to think of your six month anniversary, in what in his eyes, is a romantic moment under the rain in the middle of an empty street with his girlfriend.

“he was so cheesy about it too!” you groan, hands reaching up to comically pull at your hair in frustration. at this point, you’ve come down from your hysteria enough that you allow yourself to briefly glance back at jungwon every once in a while. “the signs, seriously? you should’ve seen what they said hon, they—“ you stop in your tracks and take a good look at your boyfriend.

at your abrupt pause and gaping stare, he only cocks his head curiously. “what? keep going.”

“won, you’re soaked.” you murmur sadly, only having realized now that your boyfriend, your real boyfriend wordlessly held an umbrella over your head to let you shout profanities in peace despite getting soaked himself.

he scoffs playfully at your sensitivity. “i can change when i get home, don’t be dramatic.”

completely going against his words, a wide, genuine smile graces your features, all of your previous anger fading away at the sight of your man. “jungwon, you big softy! did that go on for long? how have you been? did you have a good day at school?”

“would’ve been better if i got to see you,” he hummed, playing it cool despite the fact he was soaked in rain water from head to toe. “even if it was just from afar.”

“you were jealous, weren’t you?”

“…i wasn’t.”

you coo at him fondly, and at this he only smiles and looks away bashfully. your boyfriend, the student council president and the one who ranked number 1 out of that 452. the boy who decided to convey his feelings to you over a handwritten letter 6 months to this day and the one who called the shots to keep your relationship secret, for your sake, because he knew that that was what you wanted.

you started off as only co-workers as the editor-in-chief of the school paper and the student council president, but you can’t thank the universe enough for letting you know the beautiful human being that is your boyfriend anyway. at this thought, you grab the umbrella from his hands and toss it away before entrapping him in a bone-crushing hug.

“let’s go home.” you murmur quietly into his neck, “i can lend you clothes.”

he hums in response, more focused on the way your arms wrap around him and give him warmth as he returns the gesture. “that sounds nice.”

“happy monthsary?” “happy monthsary.”

381 notes · View notes

kungfubarbie101 · 1 year ago

Text

Phone Call- König

nsfw/smut, fem!reader, short image, masturbation, dirty talk, male orgasm

You and König have been on the phone only 5 minutes, he had called you to let you know he was finally finished with his mission and he would be home tomorrow night. Suddenly König was being extra quiet which wasn’t really like him since he’s was quite talkative with you over the phone and in person, but that’s until you heard a low groan come from the other line, making you stop in the middle of your sentence and listen closer.

“König?” You say to him, hearing nothing but muffle movement as if he was losing connection. “König?” You said a little louder into the phone, only hearing nothing on the other line.

“Yes dear?” His thick german accent rung through the phone. König was listen intensely to your voice, his hand working up the shaft of his dick. “Are you okay? You stopped talking…” You asked him softly, only hearing a small pleasurable sigh.

“I’m f-fine…..J-just keep talking…” He told you, waiting to hear your voice once again, fucking the palm of hand in sexual frustration, he was choking his words out. You furrow your eyebrows as he told you to continue, you wanted to hear how his mission was but-

“(Your name)……please continue….” His voice caught you off guard as he sounded desperate for you to talk to him more, wanting to hear your sweet words linger out your mouth. “Oh? Why?” You asked him, still not quite knowing what he was doing on the other line.

“Fuck (your name),” He let out, almost in a irritated tone, “Just be a good girl and continue talking for me”.

Your eyes had widened, finally understanding what he was doing, biting your bottom lip as you grinned. “Does it feel good honey?” Your voice sweet and seductive as you spoke, making König stroke himself faster, “Yes..” His voices sounded raspy and shaky, it made your stomach tingle, your thighs squeezed, rubbing together, giving some friction against yourself.

“Darling~” He let out, a shaky groan escaping him, “Tell me how you want me to touch you right now” He muttered, almost embarrassed to say it. You let out a soft chuckle before speaking, “I want you to hold my waist tightly as your bury your cock into my pussy, staring into my eyes deeply as you do…” You tell him, you could feel yourself getting wet through your panties just thinking about it. König let out another audible groan, a soft whimper leading out.

“Fuckin hell….I want you so bad (your name)” You could hear his breath quicken before you continued, “ I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk anymore, rub my clit with your rough thumb as you whisper praises and degrading things into my ear, only making me beg for more”. König’s eyes closed, his dick rutting up against the palm of his hand, only imagining that it was your plush pussy clenching around it. Ohhh the thoughts he was thinking about.

König let a pleasurable moan, pre-cum started to leak out of his tip. His pace had quickened faster by the second when you spoke to him, your voice being a addictive drug in which he was getting high. His legs trembled softly, his hips bucking sloppily upwards, a wave of pleasure washed over him, a louder moan coming from the phone indicated he had finally finished.

His cum leaking from his tip, running down his hand, coding his fingers. All you could do was listen to him, imagining how pretty he must have looked when he came. You where turned on by the fact he reached his climax, just from hearing your voice. “Did you cum baby?” You ask him, hearing a low ‘mhm’ from the other line. You smiled, “Good boy…” You tell him, praising him lightly, wanting to be there to give him tender kisses.

“Thank you, schatz. Now, let me get all cleaned up, I want to hear the rest of your day princess…”

#konig x reader #konig cod #konig smut #konig imagine #konig x you #konig call of duty #konig x y/n #könig x reader #könig smut #könig x you #könig cod #könig fanfiction #könig x y/n #konig mw2 #konig headcanons

2K notes · View notes

cressidagrey · 5 months ago

Text

Recipe for Love - Honey Cakes

Summary:

The Beehive Bakery is out of Peach Cobbler. This leads Azriel to make some very impulsive decisions.

Warnings:

Definetely NSFW. Maybe don't make life-altering decisions about a lack of Peach Cobbler?

A/N:

thanks to @k-godling for listening to me rambling on about this and finding the perfect name for that Bakery! This will eventually be a series consisting out of One-Shots, so if you have an idea, shoot it my way! (Also, if anybody actually tries out that recipe, let me know lol)

Twice-Baked Honeycakes Ingredients: 1 ¾ cup flour 1 ½ tablespoon baking powder ½ tsp salt ½ cup unsalted butter, room temperature 3 tablespoon butter for greasing muffin pan zest 1 lemon ¼ teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg ¾ cup milk 2 eggs

¾ cup honey 1/4 cup honey for drizzling on top 1 teaspoon vanilla Directions: Grease the inside of muffin wells. Set Aside. Whisk together flour, baking powder, salt, nutmeg and lemon zest. Knead butter into flour mixture until crumbly. Set Aside. Whisk together milk, eggs, honey, and vanilla. Pour wet into dry ingredients and combine until just combined. Pour batter into Muffin wells. Bake in Hot Oven for 16 minutes or until mostly done but not quite golden enough. Remove from Muffin Wells and place on a baking sheet. Warm the remaining ¼ cup of honey. Brush the tops of the cakes with the honey. Allow to sit for 5 minutes. Bake for an additional 8-10 minutes, or until the cakes are golden brown.

Habits were what got people killed.

Azriel knew that.

Getting slow, getting complacent…it was dangerous.

He couldn’t help himself though.

Or maybe it was that he thought that if this one thing would kill him…the one thing he did that sparked joy somewhere deep in his chest, that made everything feel not so bad…then it was worth it.

If Azriel were actually smart, he would have gone straight to the House of Wind that particular day and not even bothered to visit that Bakery.

Quite frankly, he would thank the mother on his knees for that bit of idiocy for the rest of his life.

Azriel should have gone home. He was dead on his feet and hadn’t eaten properly in 3 days after the mission in Spring had dragged on and on and on…and now Azriel only wanted food and then his bed and then some sleep…

He had already forced himself to turn in a report to Rhys so that maybe he could actually sleep in the next day…he just hoped that Cassian and Nesta wouldn’t find the energy for one of their early morning trysts.

But before bed…before sleep…he had promised himself another slice of that peach cobbler days ago. Just one.

So when he sludged into the bakery…he realised with a grimace that it was late enough in the evening that it would already be closing soon. His hope that there still would be some peach cobbler was left diminished.

Just one single slice…please.

Just…

The moment the door closed behind him with a little jingle, there was a soft voice.

“We’re out.”

Azriel had grown used to it…to the near bell-like quality of it, all of it belonging to B, that blonde female he had seen the first time. He had gotten used to her , though he had always been served by one of the other people working there, by chance and circumstances. They had never even exchanged a single word.

But he had liked to watch her…Watch her happiness as she flitted around her bakery. He had figured out that she was the owner quite quickly.

She was always so…sweet. Sweet to her customers, sweet to her employees…She handed out these little smiles of hers generously and flirted up a storm with seemingly anybody who was willing to stand still long enough.

She was sunshine personified.

“What?” Azriel asked dumbly, staring at her, rooted in the spot as B continued counting money at the till, quickly putting coins into tidy little stacks. Seemed like the Bakery was running very well indeed.

“We’re out of Peach Cobbler,“ she clarified, her voice lilting. “That’s what you always order, isn’t it? Sorry, Peaches.”

Did she just call him Peaches ?

Did she just call the Spymaster of the Night Court, the horror of Prythian, an Illyrian warrior that was literally nearly twice her size Peaches ?!

Azriel had absolutely no fucking idea what to say to that.

B looked up, giving him a smile that lit up her whole face as their eyes met across the room. “So what can I get you in…?” The words stuck in her throat.

Sparkling blue eyes stared up at him. And he could just stare right back because at that very moment… everythingchanged.

He had never felt anything like this before.

Had never felt the warmth that burrowed deep into his chest…that sudden unfurling of a golden ribbon…the feeling of being tied to another person so utterly, so thoroughly, so completely.

It was…

Oh .

She blinked. Full lips pulling into a smile, that button nose wrinkling. “At least that explains why you come here every week. My peach cobbler is magnificent but clearly not the only reason,” she told him with a saucy little wink and he wanted to laugh, half hysterical.

Brazen.

His mate was utterly brazen.

Something inside him eased.

“It’s quite confident that you think I only came for you,” he said hoarsely and she grinned at him.

“Well…” she trailed off… ”I think my confidence is inspired,” she teased him, still grinning, her happiness bleeding all over their bond, all over him, and he nearly staggered with it.

Worry registered on her face. “Sit down before you fall over,” she said pointedly, as she came from behind the counter. He couldn’t help but drink her in even as he managed to sit down on one of her wrought iron chairs, wrestling his wings behind himself.

His stomach growled.

The sound was so loud in the quiet cafe that he blushed beet red.

She only laughed, snagging a plate and piled it high with four little cakes that she brought over, putting it in front of him.

He swallowed.

“If I eat that…” he said hoarsely as she sat down across from him.

If he ate that, he would accept the mating bond. He would bind himself to her, forever, irrevocably.

“Oh, I know,” she told him with a grin. Not worried in the slightest. It didn’t even seem to cross her mind. She mustered him, blue eyes so gentle. “I am very much aware,” she promised him. “And you are looking at me like you expect me to turn you down, Peaches.”

He was expecting her to turn him down. He was expecting her to take one look at him and the shadows that slithered behind him, currently happily hissing to themselves, Finally, Master! …and to turn around and run .

“I won’t,” she said with a shrug like it was the easiest promise she had ever given. “You are my mate. I will never turn you down.” There was fierceness bleeding into her voice at that. “Whatever happens, you’ll always have me on your side.”

A surprising amount of loyalty, right there for his taking.

His mate was insane. And quite frankly…he loved it.

“You don’t even know my name,” he gave back hoarsely.

“It’s not Peaches?” She faux gasped and he couldn’t help but snort.

“Azriel. My name is Azriel,” he said quietly.

“Azriel,” she repeated, pushing that plate towards him.“Eat. Unless you don’t want to?” She asked him teasingly.

Azriel did want to. He wanted nothing more than that.

There had been so much in his life that he had wanted and hadn’t been able to get…but she offered herself to him on a silver platter.

And so he picked up one of these little cakes.

****

It had taken 150 years for him to show up.

Bee wasn’t quite sure if she should just be grateful about that, or if she should be pissed off that it took that long. She had been waiting for him.

Of course, she had.

For somebody that had her whole life made herself a family out of choice… she had waited for fate to at least bring her a mate.

And for once…for once she had been right.

He was right there. Right there in the Beehive. Right there in her home.

Granted, he stood out like a sore thumb with these beautiful, ferocious wings that stretched over his back…and the violent black leather armour he wore, blue stones gleaming.

But all of that stood in sharp contrast to the rest of his demeanour, which looked like he was fully expecting her to turn him down.

Jokes on him, she had no plans to do that.

He was hers . She would never turn him down.

Also, he was far too pretty for her to ever even consider it…She had really hit the jackpot with that.

(And maybe the fact that she had been harbouring a secret crush on peaches for weeks and he was the only reason why the peach cobbler had been a daily staple in the Beehive also had something to do with that…)

“Better?” she asked him curiously as he scarfed down the second cake, stealing one of them for herself. “Honey cakes,” Bee told him brightly. “My sister brought me some lavender honey yesterday so I made them.” Roisin had gotten it from a friend herself, and Bee thought that it was quite a successful pairing.

Her Honey Cakes had never tasted better.

“Yes,” he breathed out, and he looked into his eyes to find the pupils blown wide, his want and need sharply grating against that new, golden bond tying them together.

“Do you proposition every male that walks into your bakery and orders Peach Cobbler?” he asked her, his voice hoarse and she couldn’t help but grin, as she offered him her hand, as she stood.

He took it, dwarfing hers with his own, violently scarred…but oh so gently. So gently.

The first touch was like a spark…like a wildfire roared to life in her blood. She couldn’t help the goosebumps that rose over her skin.

“Only the ones that are as handsome as you,” she quipped back, her voice shaky, as she wrapped her fingers around his. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Upstairs,” he agreed and followed behind her as she quickly grabbed the till…remembering that at least.

Though it was thrown carelessly on the table in her hallway as she turned as soon as she could close the door and lock it behind her.

He still stood there, staring at her…and she half expected him to pounce…because he looked like a cat like that, watching her every move.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t move. Didn’t do anything but watch her, his mouth slightly open, his chest rising and flaking with every sharp breath he took.

Oh well… she could take the lead…She would gladly do that.

So she stepped closer to him…breathing in his scent…cedars and something she couldn’t quite place…wintry…like a forest in the morning…He smelled so good .

She wanted to roll around his scent. Bee wanted…

Instead, she reached out with the hand he wasn’t holding, carefully, slowly…lifting it up to his face.

She touched Azriel’s cheek and he turned into her touch, leaning into it, the tightness in his body relaxing as she cupped his cheek…

And then she stood up on her tiptoes and failed horribly to even reach higher than the middle of his chest, making him laugh, his body shaking with mirth. She growled as she yanked him down and he went willingly, finally letting her crush her lips to his.

And then…oh.

It was like coming home. It was like falling asleep and waking up at the same moment…it was like…like everything inside her calmed and burst into flames…

And…by the cauldron, she needed him.

That must be that damn mating frenzy everybody always talked about.

His tongue hungrily licked into her mouth and she gave as good as she got from him, her hands curling tightly into the leather armour he wore.

“I don’t even know your name,” he growled against her mouth and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Beatrice. Everybody calls me Bee. Like the animal, not like the letter,” she answered with a moan, even as she walked backwards, until he had enough and just scooped her up like she weighed nothing…she couldn’t help but squeak, because she may wasn’t particularly tall, but she was rather… substantial and he didn’t even seem to notice her weight.

Oh well. she wasn’t going to start complaining.

Not when he managed to find her bedroom on the first try and Bee hit the bed as he followed her down.

She caught his mouth with hers again, hungrily licking into his mouth, grounding up against him…the bulk of him pressed her down into the bed…muscular and massive.

There seemed to be nothing soft about his body at all, was there?

She managed to get a hand on the buckles that kept Azriel’s jacket closed and then pulled back with a regretful because she was quite sure that that was never going to work.

“Get it off,” she managed to bring out. “Before I try and rip it off.” His eyes darkened at that but he lifted off her and she leaned up on her elbows to watch him…watch him unbutton the jackets and open the buckles so that he could slide it off his body…these beautiful dark wings, unfurling behind him…the swirling tattoos that covered his chest and arms…

Bee had been right. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him anywhere, the muscles standing out sharply, speaking of…years of hard work and training. Azriel was gorgeous.

She was a lucky, lucky girl.

With maybe just a teeny, tiny bit of self-consciousness because he looked like that and she…didn’t.

Though the way he was watching her…hazel green eyes dark…desire so plainly on his face…his tongue slipping over his lips…

It made her sit up and open the bow that kept her apron closed…let her shrug it off and throw it to the floor…Something to deal with tomorrow.

Somehow that pulled him into action…made him lean down so that he could kiss her again, and Bee smiled into that kiss, moaning softly as his tongue plundered her mouth.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but somehow she had thought he would be…rougher.

He wasn’t. If anything, he was endlessly gentle…

Azriel caught her ankle without a word, obligingly unbuckling her shoe and dropping it to the floor. He slid one hand up her leg briefly, all the way to the knee, Bee unable to stop the goosebumps that broke out all over her body, the soft shiver that rocked her.

“Cold?” he asked her, his voice quiet but she shook her head, even as she offered her other foot, letting him take off the other shoes and toss it over his shoulder,

“You could keep me warm?” she offered breathlessly, making him laugh, the sound warm and rich like molasses, before he crawled to join her on the bed.

Her breath hitched as he crawled over her and settled between the spread of her thighs…Kissing her again…She was so busy with curling a hand in his hair that she didn’t even notice him starting to unbutton her dress until he reached her waist and then growled in annoyance.

This time it was her laughing, struggling to sit up underneath him so that she could shrug out of the rest of her clothing…could pull the dress over her head and slip out of the lacy little unmentionable she wore, because she was quite sure she would rip them apart in her hurry to lose them later anyway…and the way he stared at her body as she bared more and more skin to him…as she shook out her hair so that the blonde curls fell over her shoulders…

One look over her shoulders and he bore down onto her again, catching her mouth with his with a growl and she hitched her leg higher against his thigh.

“You’re warm,” she whispered quietly. Azriel was all lean muscles and warm skin…and she arched a little underneath him and shivered.

He shifted just slightly and her breath caught in her throat…even like this she could feel the rock-hard bulge of him pressing against her through his trousers…making her shiver once again.

She took the weight of him and moaned against his mouth as he dipped his tongue between her lips.

She whimpered and Azriel lifted his head and slipped off of her to lie on his side. Bee turned with him, seeking his mouth and shivering under his hand as he slid it up her side to cup her breast.

A long drawn-out moan was the result of that, as rough fingers skilfully brushed over one rosy nipple…

His touch was careful and hesitant…and she met his gaze, pressing against these hands… trying to make it so clear to him that she wanted him…she grasped the golden bond flexing inside her and poured all her want and happiness into it.

He had expected that, his body freezing for just a moment as he dropped his head to her shoulder, holding her like she was made out of spun glass, hands desperately clinging onto her skin.

Another puzzle piece of him…him, that male that had always been silently brooding in that corner and had expected her to turn him down.

She kissed him, softly, coaxing… and he returned that kiss. It was intoxicating, his patience nothing short of shocking.

They got a little lost in those kisses.

Bee was a little overwhelmed when he wrenched his mouth from hers and slid down enough to take one rigid, aching nipple into his mouth. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her, the shudder that wrecked her body…

She shuddered when Azriel pushed one big hand between her legs, fingers trailing over her lower lips before dipping between them.

She was already embarrassingly wet, the scent of her own arousal in the air hard to ignore.

Bee gasped into his mouth as he dipped one thick finger into her hole, her body shivering with the stretch of it. Everything was big about him, even his hands. His teeth clenched on her nipple briefly and she arched up against his mouth, her back arching.

Azriel lifted his head and their eyes met as he pressed his finger deeper into her, Green meeting blue. Bee’s breath caught in the back of her throat and she lifted her hips upwards against the pleasure with a happy little shiver.

“Good?” he asked her, his voice hoarse and she just about managed a shaky nod.

“Perfect, Peaches,” she promised him with a grin and without fanfare he pushed a second finger inside her, making her gasp.

His thumb found her clit at that moment, drawing a tight little circle about that attention-seeking nub and she couldn’t help the long-drawn-out moan that escaped her.

“More,” she requested in a whine and he chuckled as he shifted them around, placing her on his lap, Bee the one on top, rising above him, his hands on his hips.

She growled when she still felt the trousers he wore, managing to shove them out of her way and then…then swallowed when his cock sprung free. Long and thick and…Gods, everything about him was unreasonably pretty, wasn’t it?

She wanted nothing more than to sink down onto him in one fell swoop.

It would probably be a bad idea, just because of the sheer size of him.

But that didn’t stop her from reaching out for him… wrapping one small hand around the hot length of his cock…she watched his face, watched how Azriel hissed in a breath but didn’t try to stop her and flexed his hips as she rubbed the hear of his cock against her entrances.

Azriel kept a hold of her hips, a thumb still circling her clit, making her half out of her mind with wanting him.

He makes her take him slowly instead…tiny gentle thrusts that nonetheless make Bee shudder with pleasure, ragged breath escaping her, a whine leaving her throat, her head thrown back…

When she’s finally fully seated, Azriel’s eyes fall shut for a moment in ecstasy, and Bee braced her hands on his chest and shifts a little, just to see how it feels. Cauldron, she was so fucking full.

He let her take her time, not even trying to control her movements…his hands stayed on her hips, still rubbing her clit…He let her rise up on her knees and sink down again in little restless motions, her breasts bouncing…he caught one of them in his mouth again as he sat up, his abdominal muscles flexing in a truly ridiculous display of strength that maybe made her moan wantonly…

Not that she wasn’t already doing it…they were both panting with it, Bee keening with her moans at how fucking good it is, how big he feels inside her, how perfect…until almost by accident she finds exactly the perfect angle to hit that spot inside her, that one spot that makes her see stars…

And she watched as it registered on Azriel’s face and he grinned, slowly lowering his back onto the mattress… tightened his hold on her hips to hold her in place and started to thrust.

That was the last straw.

She could feel the bond rushing between them - a little wild and rich with their feelings. The most beautiful thing…

Each drag of his cock inside her pulled her further and further away from herself and into a place, she’d never been. It was more than sex, more than even love. More than anything she had ever felt…

She couldn’t help but wail as it settled inside her…deeper and more pleasurable than anything she’d ever known.

Bee scrabbled against Azriel’s chest, against the swirling dark marks with uncoordinated hands because she had to do something with them…if she didn’t, she wasn’t sure what would happen, as her whole body shook with the strength of the waves of pleasure that crashed over her at that moment.

Azriel made a positively feral noise and yanked her down, pressing his face into the crook of her neck…breathing in her scent as he clung to her and spilt inside her, hot and filthy and glorious.

She couldn’t help herself as she collapsed, utterly uncoordinated, across Azriel’s chest. For just a moment, he lay still beneath her, shuddering through the aftershocks, his hands still on her hips…his nose pressed against her neck, breathing her in…

He loosened the hands around her hips…she was pretty sure that he had bruised her but she didn’t care one bit.

Not one bit as he helped shift her until she laid draped over him…and then he wrapped one arm around her waist and combed the fingers of his other hand through her blonde tresses…again and again…so utterly sweet that she melted into his chest, tucking her face again.

“Thank the cauldron, I didn’t have any peaches anymore,” she mumbled against his chest. For a moment he was quiet. Then he chuckled, the sound warm and soothing.

“I think I prefer honey now," he answered and she reached out to poke his chest weakly.

"If you think that's funny, I'll let you know that any bee-related jokes have ceased to be that around 6 decades ago," she told him drily, getting another chuckle from him.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #my writing #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #Recipe for Love

371 notes · View notes