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gyuwoncheol · 1 year ago

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Worth It

Pair: Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: Smut smut smut. Pwp. Fiancé!Mingyu, established relationship. 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: Basically what happens when you tell Mingyu you’re his for the whole night.

Warnings: Mingyu in a white button down (this deserves a warning, yes), pwp, slight soft dom!Mingyu, very brief mention of dying but more as an expression, marking, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe, children), wall sex, fingering, hand job, multiple orgasms, cum eating, brief light spanking, biting (it's actually just nipping), light anal rimming, squirting, overstimulation, use of color system, dirty talk, praise, use of pet names (good girl, greedy girl, baby), Gyu actually being really sweet if you look at the tiny details, mention of a married Jeonghan, speeding while driving (do NOT do this). Please let me know if I missed something!

WC: 3.5k

Author’s Note: I was working on 2 other wips when Mingyu just wouldn’t leave me alone. This is the result of that. Not my best work and not thoroughly proofread. But it is what it is. I just really needed to get this out of my system because the man is killing me. My inbox is very much open if you wanna thirst on Gyu with me!

Smut directly under the cut

“Gyu, if you keep touching me like that, i’m gonna wanna suck you off” you warned, swatting your fiancé’s hand away from your thigh

“I don’t see why that’s a problem” He shrugged happily, knuckles gripping onto the steering wheel tighter, excited at your proposition

“It’s a problem because you always close your eyes when you cum. You’re going to crash the car. I’d like to get fucked tonight, not die in an accident”

Mingyu laughed at your statement, not even disagreeing in the slightest bit. Yes you were both horny, but safety always came first, especially when it came to you. He wasn’t so sure what came over you. One moment you were both happily celebrating the wedding of your friends, and the next, you were whispering the dirtiest things in his ear during what he thought would be a romantic slow dance with you on the dancefloor.

Who could blame you though? Your fiancé looked every bit of scrumptious in his white button down today, plus he perfectly played his role of doting fiancé through the night: always holding your hand, always keeping you in his line of sight in the rare moments you two were separated, and always whispering 'i love you's'. He tried to be nice and not rush out the wedding venue right after the dance, and he succeeded for a while, but as the party drew on, it was getting more difficult to hide his boner so he practically dragged you to the car whilst waving a quick goodbye to your friends.

"It's not my fault you're getting me riled up the whole night" he reasoned

"It's also not my fault I'm engaged to the sexiest man in the world"

Mingyu raised his brow at you whilst stopped at a red light, "it kinda is though... You did say yes when I proposed"

"Then you better show me it was worth it" You challenged

Just as the lights turned green, Mingyu could feel his dick twitch in his pants and he swore he never pressed on that gas pedal faster than he did.

He couldn't even wait for you to unlock your doors before he was already kissing down your neck, his whole body pressed onto your back so you could feel his hard on. The feeling of his wet tongue on your burning skin had you fiddling for the wrong keys "Gyu! Slow down! I need to get us in" You pleaded with your source of distraction, "I'm yours the whole night, just let me get our keys right"

"That's funny, you definitely weren't telling me to slow down or wait longer while you whispered all those things on the dance floor... But I will take you up on the offer of having you all night. That is noted" he said the last sentence in a low growl, sending chills down your spine.

Thankfully, the right key finally clicked and your door flew wide open. Mingyu drove you to the closest wall, your head lightly thumping against the hard surface.

"shit! sorry baby" Mingyu's eyes grew wide, his hand immediately reaching over to the back of your head, worried he had just hurt you.

You couldn't even care less, pushing your lips back on his for another kiss but Mingyu stopped you with his free hand, keeping you at half an arm's length. "No, no. I need to know. Are you okay?"

You saw just how quickly his eyes went from horny to caring and it got you even more turned on.

"I'm okay baby, hardly even felt it" You rushed out, reaching for his neck to draw you closer to his lips again. This time, with his full cooperation.

It was everything but calm and collected. Mingyu didn't even leave you any room to fight for dominance as his tongue explored your mouth feverishly.

He groaned when he felt your nails scratch lightly at his chest, his buttons now all undone and giving you access to his tanned skin. You slowly made your way through his chest, leaving love bites where you could and stripping him off the shirt. When your knees hit the floor, you excitedly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his black slacks, exposing his very hard cock that was fighting for release from the confines of his boxers which you eventually freed.

His angry tip momentarily brushed your lips as it sprang up against his stomach and Mingyu let out a moan from the brief contact. He just about died when you gently held his shaft, your tongue sticking out and just centimeters away from where he wanted you. It was as if time stopped for Mingyu. If he just knew where his phone was, he would have definitely memorialized this in a photo.

Mingyu's precum was right there and you just needed to taste it, swiping your tongue fully on his tip before swirling it around him. You heard him curse which only prodded you even more, your thumb gently pressing down on where your tongue was just a few seconds ago as you slowly started to pump him up and down with both hands. The harder you worked him up, the more precum oozed out of him and everytime it did, you repeated the motion of pressing down on his tip before twisting your hands on his length.

"Fuck baby, pleaseee" His voice strained. There was something about seeing that diamond ring on your finger as it wrapped around his cock that always got him in a mess

"Hm?" you blinked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes

"Mouth.. Tongue.. Please, I—" He stuttered and that was all you needed to finally get your lips wrapped around him, sucking with a fervor that had your fiance's eyes rolling to the back of his head. The taste of him sending a gush of wetness between your legs.

Mingyu's mouth hung wide open, letting every whimper and moan come out in full volume as you slowly took more of his length with every bob of your head. You retracted when you were half way through, making sure your tongue was dragging on the underside of his cock to add to the sensation. A string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick.

"Been wanting this the whole night" you mumbled before letting more of your saliva drool onto his cock, earning a groan from your fiancé

You pumped him several more times with your hand before your mouth took him in again. This time, you took your time swirling your tongue and sucking him in, slowly making sure you were able to stuff as much of him down your throat.

"Babyy— fuck, k-keep going" He encouraged. His large hand still behind your head, not pushing but also not letting you move away.

You relaxed your jaw more and willed yourself to breathe through your nose. You moaned when he hit the back of your throat and it set goosebumps all over his body, a strained call of your name reverberating through the walls of your house. Your fingers covered what the rest of your mouth couldn’t and you synced your movements enough to have Mingyu jerking in no time

"So fucking good. Swallowing me so well"

Your tongue continued to move back and forth on the underside of his cock while your throat continued to spasm and your hand played with his balls. When you had adjusted well enough, you squeezed his right thigh to indicate you were good to go and he could fuck your face.

And fuck your face, he did.

With your mouth open wide and tongue sticking out, your fiancé went to town. His hand now fisted your hair in a ponytail as his cock continuously rammed through your throat, hitting the back every single time. You thanked yourself for wearing your toughest waterproof makeup and setting spray because at the rate Mingyu was going, you were definitely tearing up and drooling. As his movements stuttered, you held tightly to the back of his thighs so you could swallow as much of him as you can.

Mingyu closed his eyes shut at the feeling of your tight throat squeezing his cock, "Shit, baby I- I'm so c-close"

You moaned one more time, setting him off as his pelvis jerked and you saw his head fall back.with a groan. Thick spurts of his cum coated your throat and it only made you moan against him harder, fully adding onto the stimulation your fiancé was feeling. You swallowed thickly with all he had to give you, milking out Mingyu to the very last drop.

"FUCK" He exhaled, finally stilling you by the shoulders and slipping out. You gasped for air and wiped your face with the back of your hand, a tantalizing smile staring up at Mingyu

He noted how you swallowed him dry and wiped the tears that stained your cheek.

"My good girl.”

You smiled at him, proud of the work you've done and the praise you got. "Your good girl" you repeated

"Cmere" he called, helping you up hastily and trapping you against the wall for the second time that night

His hand found its place again behind your head, cushioning it from the wall, while the other was hiking up your long silky dress.

"Gyu..." You inhaled sharply when his mouth latched onto your collar bone, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Just then you felt his fingers cup your pussy and you both moaned at the feeling

"Fuck baby, no panties?"

You shook your head, biting your lower lip to contain the cheeky smile forming

"Why didn't you tell me? We could've gone home as soon as Jeonghan said 'I Do'… y/n, you're leaking" Your fiance stated the obvious when he brushed your thighs, not even giving you the chance to answer his question

“All you, Gyu”

You saw his pupils blow out at your statement, a cocky smirk written all over his face, two thick fingers immediately slipping into your wet hole “What’s that?”

“S-shit..” you gasped, “it’s you. All cause of you.” you repeated, body jerking at the way his fingers hooked on your insides

“My good girl already so wet just sucking me off huh? Didn’t even need to touch you to have your sweet pussy soaking"

"oh my go— Oh god"

If the squelching sounds you could hear weren’t enough an indication to how wet you were, surely the slippery sensation in your pussy and thighs were

"Jump" you heard Mingyu demand and you lifted your feet off in no time. His strong arms supporting you by the thighs, his hands just below your pussy where he definitely felt some of your juices dripping. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you were now perfectly sandwiched between the concrete wall and your human wall.

"Mingyu" you mewled, forehead dropping to his shoulder when you felt the tip of his cock slip right into your cunt. Your body involuntarily moved higher but Mingyu was quick enough to pull you down, sheathing a few more inches of his length inside you

"Look at you, so wet, you don't even need prep to take me" He praised, pushing another inch further into you as another strangled moan ripped through your throat

Soon enough, your pussy was contracting against Mingyu's dick, the slight pain present awhile ago was now coming in waves of pleasure for you.

"S'good thing you're soaking baby 'case you're tight pussy's sucking me in so well"

Mingyu couldn't stop whispering dirty things in your ear, prodding you enough until you were exerting all your upper body strength to bounce on his cock. A couple times he would completely slip out with how wet you were but he was always quick enough to sheath himself back into your hole before you could fully whine.

"babyyyy" You moaned, the orgasm suddenly appearing hot in your heels already. "m'close. Please.."

"Please what, m' love?" Mingyu thrusted deeply, hitting your gspot with perfect accuracy. If he hadn't held you so tightly, you were sure you would’ve fallen out

"Cum... P-please. Please let me cu--" the last word dying in your throat when he fully withdrew his cock only to push it right in with double the force of the last. You were seeing stars and the knot in your stomach was holding on for dear life.

"My good girl wants to cum?"

"YES!" You cried out, "Please.. was good. I w-was good"

Mingyu chuckled, thoroughly enjoying how broken you sounded when begging for release. With a low whisper to your ear, he let you have what you asked for "Let go, baby"

If Mingyu wasn't back to being fully erect awhile ago, then he is now with the way your gummy walls clamped so tightly around him, your orgasm flowing through you as your fiancé moved his body against yours in soft body rolls to help you ride out your orgasm.

"so good, Gyu. So good.. so good" you chanted with hushed tones

When he felt you calm down, Mingyu planted a kiss on your temple telling you to 'hang tight' when he suddenly lifted you off the wall and made large strides to the stairwell of your home, all while still being inside you. In a moment, he opened your bedroom door, stopping at the light switch for you to flick it on.

"Y/n" he called you in a tone that sent shivers down your spine. He was now standing at the edge of your king sized bed, eyes staring deep into your soul. "Dress off" he demanded.

It was only then you realised how he had been fully naked since forever ago while you were still definitely covered in silk and cotton. You threw the material on the floor at the same time Mingyu slipped out of you and threw you to the bed, your body lightly bouncing on the mattress sending you into a giggles

"I love you" you declared to the man still standing tall with his arms crossed at the edge of your bed. Your eyes glanced at his cock that stood against his stomach, still glistening with your slick, before raking up his toned abs and then back to his face.

"I love you baby" Mingyu replied with a smile that boasted his canines

It was romantic really, but only for a few seconds, because when Mingyu saw your cum drip out of your hole, his pointer finger made quick work to scoop it up and plug it back in your hole. The gasp you let out had him flashing you a devilish grin, one you knew all too well.

He lifted your legs slowly, placing them over his shoulders while he maintained eye contact with you, his face inching closer and closer. The smell of your sex just making his dick twitch for the nth time that night. When he deemed himself close enough, he blew cold air on your pussy, enough to make your hips buck up, immediately latching his mouth onto your wet folds. A strangled moan of his name was the first thing he heard, followed by the lewd squelches his mouth made against your cunt.

"Ooohhh my goooood, Mingyuuuuu" you drawled out when his tongue entered your hole, slurping all the cum he had just caught a few seconds ago

He beamed when he finished swallowing your juices, his face lifting up with a toothy grin, "So sweet. All mine" he declared, before licking a fat stripe from your hole to your clit.

Your moans got louder the more he controlled your writhing in bed, not at all caring that you were about to get wrecked with another orgasm with the way his mouth was making out with your pussy: licking through your folds, sucking and swirling on your clit, pumping his tongue in and out of your hole. He felt your fingers run through his hair before harshly pulling at the strands but it only prodded him more. Taking hold of your legs, he raised them forward so you were now folded in half. A growl rumbled through his chest when he saw just how puffy your pussy got from what he did.

Mingyu delivered two light spanks on your ass before he dove back in to nip and suck at your skin before soothing it with his tongue. The feeling of his teeth grazing your inner thigh was a welcomed addition to every sensation you were feeling down there.

"Keep going, Gyu" You panted, "Please"

Your fiancé didn't need to be told twice, making sure he didn't leave any area of your pussy uncovered. Between the light spanking, sucking and nipping, the skin on your thighs were now blooming a bright shade of pink.

He knew you were close when your right leg trembled with a jerk.

"Cmon, baby. Be my good girl and cum for me.."

Your eyes met his briefly before pushing his head down to meet your hip. Your orgasm was right there, you could feel it wanting to fall, to break, but you needed something more you couldn't exactly pin point. You squeezed your breasts with your free hand but to no avail. Your fiance's tongue was slurping from your hole, his nose stimulating your clit, yet it wasn't enough.

"Gyuuu.... So c-close, pleaaase! N-need mo-oore"

It's a good thing Mingyu knew your body more than you did, because the moment you felt his thumb tease the tight rim of your ass, you didn't only cum, you squirted.

“FUCK, YES” Mingyu celebrated

A silent scream racked through your chest, knocking all air out of your lungs. If your ears weren't just ringing so loudly, you would've heard Mingyu moan out more curse words before diving into your cunt to lap up everything he could. In just a few seconds, your back was arching again as you fought to push his mouth off you. Your whole body was shaking from that earth shattering orgasm, your pussy feeling like it was on fire as overstimulation crept in.

Mingyu laced his fingers through your hand but his attempt to ground you was contradicting the words that came out of his mouth.

"Don’t push me away, baby. Thought you needed more? didn't think my good girl was gonna be a greedy one tonight"

He was chuckling at how far gone you were, mumbling incoherent words to him. All he could really make out was the occasional call of his name.

"Baby.." you groaned desperately when you felt him leave light kisses on the knuckles of your hand that he was holding

"Hmm?"

"I—" you stammered, between the wetness of your sheets and your insides still trembling, you weren't really sure how to string words together

"Does my greedy girl want more?" Mingyu's brow raised, the tone in his voice suggesting that he was not done with you yet. You felt his whole body hover over you, a comforting warmth that made you feel safe and loved despite every single dirty thing he was just doing to you.

"You can give me more, right baby?" Your fiancé asked while one hand pumped his hard cock languidly

"you did say I could have you the whole night… you meant that, right?"

Mingyu saw you look at him in a daze, nodding eagerly even though he knew his words were still registering in your brain

"Y/n, baby… color." He cleared out, wanting to make sure you really did want this. He could read you well in moments like this, but even if he did, Mingyu always made sure he heard the words from you.

He saw you pause and he was ready to drop everything, ready to scoop you in a cuddle then run you a warm bath while he changed the sheets. He could care less if he didn't get to cum a second time tonight, at least he had his fair share awhile ago. But he waited patiently for your words.

The silence lingered long enough that he felt like asking the question again, just in case you didn't hear him.

"G-green, Gyu" you choked out, your throat feeling dry as the desert "But... could I get some water, please?" You asked, your face wincing at how difficult it was to form that one sentence alone.

You were sure it had only been two seconds since you asked, yet your fiancé was already helping you sit up, a jug of water with a straw in hand so you could quench your thirst. Mingyu gently cupped your cheek as you drank, his thumb caressing your skin before planting a soft kiss on your forehead

You smiled gratefully at him after drinking probably half the jug, "Thank you, babe"

He drank some water too before settling it down on the floor, and then facing you. The crinkles on his eyes were showing and despite having his hair stick out in odd places, he still was the most handsome man you've laid your eyes on.

"I love you, y/n"

You closed the gap between you, a chaste kiss on his lips despite getting a slight taste of yourself. "I love you, Gyu"

Your hand held the back of his neck, the mischievous glint in your eyes making a reappearance after that necessary water break. Mingyu's devilish grin followed suit too when you uttered your next words, a redeclaration of how this all began.

"I'm yours the whole night."

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

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some soft!bakugou brainrot for the soul:

-he likes when you greet him in the morning. will absolutely roll his eyes and say sum “jesus, idiot, it’s too fuckin’ early for pathetic enthusiam like that” but will also simultaneously get pouty if u dont say hi to him first

-very much a quiet boy when it’s late at night. will just sit back with his eyes half-lidded and head in his hands, giving a little “mhm” to everything you say. you think he’s not listening but when you don’t finish a thought he will, without missing a beat go “the hell? really? gonna talk that much and then not even finish the story?��

-will cook meals that you like but will insist that he likes them too. bakugou is 100% trying to convince you that he made it for himself but the entire extra portion with your favorite toppings implies the opposite

-pays attention to what you’re doing in training, and will not outright tell you if you’re doing well,, but when ur alone he’ll just sorta “you looked less pathetic than last time, dumbass” with a slight smirk as he brushes past you

-likes to bicker,, i mean come on, obviously, but what i mean is that he just looks so weirdly happy when u yell at him (def goes heart eyes but literally do not say a word about it pls)

-goes very soft for hand massages,,, just like, ground ur thumb into the heel of his hand and rub at his knuckles. man’s will melt into wherever he’s sitting and close his eyes

-will absolutely bite your head off if you’re reckless, but then spend the rest of his time trying to think of ways to avoid u ever being in that much danger again

-remembers places you’ve been together very clearly. so like, if y’all wanna revisit some restaurant, bakugou is leading the way and ur just like “??? that was 6 months ago how do u know where you’re going” ,, n he just scoffs and “because i’m the best. now shut up and pay attention we’re about to cross the street”

-is very soft about u wearing his clothes but only when no one else is around to see it. idk contrary to popular belief i actually see him being very flustered by the sight of u in his clothes. so he won’t let u wear anything around others rlly, but when it’s just him??? poor bby is so soft for it. like, v much hiding his red face in your neck and just breathing u in type of soft

-has a specific blanket that he keeps for when u hang out. eventually it starts to smell like you, bc obviously, n he’ll cuddle up with it when you can’t be with him

-adores when you sing to him. 100% doesn’t matter if you’re good or not,, bakugou just likes that you don’t do it in front of anyone else

-likes when you get needlessly angry with him. idk how to explain it,, but just like, if he’s bitching at one of his friends and you back him up, purely bc u like the chaos, bakugou will be totally 🥰 over it. only after he’s done yelling tho

-mans has a thing for praise. he does. we been knew. but he rlly has an even bigger thing for mundane praise, like rlly small things like, “wow your handwriting is so neat” or “omg your room is so clean! you’re so organized!”,,, jus tiny stuff in passing that let’s him kno he’s doing good

-will absolutely not admit it but he 100% prays for lint on his uniform so you’ll brush it off for him. it’s like, a tiny little touch, just enough to sate him, but not so much that it feels like embarrassing pda

-is a sucker for someone he can just sit in silence with. like idk, if y’all noticed it, but he literally has like, nothing to say when he’s not bitching, so if he’s not angry he’ll just be quiet. if u can be quiet with him, in the same space but not talking, bakugou is a very happy boy about it

-he likes to know things about you no one else does,, so if u tell him anything in confidence, literally anything, he’ll keep it secret. 100% every time, no exceptions, will never spill a single detail even if someone is begging him to

-probably demands that u say u love him multiple times before y’all go to sleep. its the only affection he outright asks for so u give in every time

-shares whatever he has with u. just wordlessly will hand u a piece of whatever he’s eating. doesn’t warn u if it’s spicy tho,, bc he’s still a little shit

-sort of just follows you wherever you’re going. like, if u tell him u want to be alone he’ll leave, but otherwise he just kinda assumes he’s meant to follow. most times he’s right

-he is 100% the type to know something is wrong without u having to say it. he prob knows exactly what it is too. lmao like, sure, he’s still totally clueless on how to approach/support you but bakugou is the furthest thing from dumb. he knows,, he just does.

-gets super protective about your things. like, god forbid somebody try to write anything in ur notebook while you’re not paying attention,, bakugou’ll threaten them before their pen even touches the paper

-he likes to tend to your injuries. like, even the rlly minor ones. like, let’s say u get a papercut??? pls mans is grabbing your finger, running it under water, and wrapping a bandaid around it before u even register it. he’ll grumble the whole time like “jesus, dumbass, can’t believe i have to do this.” but rlly he enjoys doing it bc it makes him feel important. like maybe he’s someone heroic to u

-if no one else is around, and there’s a lot of trust established, he’ll prob do whatever u tell him to. now ofc there’s gonna be a lot of complaining, bc it’s bakugou, but he’ll do it

-is a big fan of when you tell him he’s your favorite. pls the man is so see-through ahaha,, u could be like “omg! bakugou! you took out the trash without me asking?? that’s why you’re my favorite!” n all he walks away hearing is “they think im the best. i fucking am the best.”

-he likes to watch you do mundane things. like rlly little, every-day things like brushing your hair or tying your shoes. idk he just thinks your methodical movements are weirdly calming

-is a sucker for forehead kisses. like obvi, only when y’all are alone, but like, press a kiss to his hairline?? suddenly it’s rip angry bakugou, soft bakugou hrs only

-doesn’t rlly initiate touch that much,, but when he does mans is extremely petulant about it. like, if u decide u have something more pressing than him, bakugou is almost immeadiately going “that’s fucking stupid. what you’re doing. you should stop.” n then he’s just poking and prodding and needling at u until u fall into his arms

-shadows you at social gatherings. very guard-dog like from an outsider perspective, but rlly it’s just bc when katsuki says he doesn’t like anyone else, he means it. he’s sticking by you bc you truly are the only one he tolerates

-he secretly rlly likes when u fuss over him. like, when u ask him if he’s sore from training or if he has any injuries. bakugou will brush u off like the absolute bitch that he is, but secretly he’ll be so warm about it. he just likes that u care enough to ask

-he tries very hard to be gentle for u. ofc it pretty much never works bc it’s him, but he’ll still forever be reading romance manga n going “yeah, i bet they’d like that. gonna it do it way better though. im the fucking best, i can do it.”

ahahaaha me?? a bunch of bakugou thoughts?? never, idk what ur on about

#bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha fic #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons

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plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

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I Want To Hear You Say It

Chapter 7: Chasing After Him

Warnings: Death, Fighting

Word Count: 4.3K

A/N: I wish the thoughts in my head would just telepathically flow into the computer,,, i wanna mind meld

Prev.

Your back meets the brick walls, your clothes snagging along the grooves. Your umbrella falls beside you, the rain soaking you and leaving your hair sticking to your face. The streets are empty, left alone due to the sudden rain. There is no one coming to your rescue and even if the heroes were strolling, they don’t patrol anywhere close to where you are at this moment. Your chest aches, growing hot with each passing second.

Your mouth opens, a scream stuck in your throat until the hand that closes around your neck grows cold, something harsh pressing against your skin. “You’re going to give me all the money in your pocket, right now.” The man in front of you is stocky, muscle hidden underneath tight clothing, a dull orange hat that covers their face, and pale skin that is painted red at the cheeks. “Not a fucking word, do you understand?” A hand is raised, ice forming sharpened cones at his fingertips. “Hurry up,” he commands.

You’ve been fortunate to have never been mugged- or at least fortunate rough till now. Your blood runs cold and whether that is due to the terror that courses through your body or because of the man’s quirk you’re unsure. You take a choked breath of air, high pitched and something that makes your stomach turn when the hand squeezes painfully at your throat. There is no one around to save you. You really thought that if you were in this situation that you could fight back, but you’re unable to. Fear has taken over, your instincts choosing to stay still as the man threatens you in a low voice. The rain stings at your skin, your eyes blinking rapidly to rid them of rain and you shiver. Perhaps you just have bad luck with alleyways. But then again, an alleyway did lead you to Tomura. Your leg twitches at the thought of him. You wonder where he is now. It’s been at least a few days since you’ve last seen him. Or at least physically, he’s made quite the name for himself so he’s been in the public eye.

“I-” you swallow nervously and can feel his palm press against the front of your throat- “I’m going to reach for my wallet,” you whisper. You keep your eyes on him and subtly try to move your foot looking for your discarded umbrella. Your hand lowers to your side, reaching for you money, and the rain has started to let up, humidity replacing the cold water.

You aren’t a fighter. You wish you were. You wish your instincts would kick in or that a hero would wander by. But no one does, it’s only you and your attacker. Your teeth clench, your molars digging into each other and making your jaw sore. Your body tenses as your foot nudges against his, and when he doesn’t react, his eyes digging into yours, your jaw releases.

“Please, let me go,” you whisper, your hand cupping at your pocket. “I promise not to go to the authorities.” You flinch when he pushes you by the throat, pushing you further into the wall.

You nod to yourself and raise your leg, the sole of your shoe pressed against the brick wall. With your eyes on his, your leg jets out, knocking against this shin. He doubles over, cursing loudly and when he raises his head, his eyes wild, you take the opportunity to swing your fist into the attacker’s face. You let out a sharp whine when ice pricks against his face, cutting your knuckles and staining his ice with blood splattered against it. You hold your hand close and when the man steps back, clutching at his nose, you run.

Your legs burn, pleading for you to stop and rest. With every step, it is a slap of concrete that echoes against your feet. You run, never looking behind you or stopping to find someone- your only goal is to reach your home, to lock the doors behind you and hide under the covers. You could care less what else awaits you on your journey, as long as you’re home.

Every step up the stairs sends a jolt of pain to your joints, and you try to shakily grab your keys from your pocket, nearly dropping them between the steps and cursing at yourself. When you reach your door, your hands shake, struggling to even fit the key into the keyhole. You rush in, slamming the door and put the locks into place. You take deep breaths, opening and closing your hand slowly, desperate to calm yourself down. Your body is high on adrenaline, your foot is sore from where you kicked him and your hand finally registering the pain as you open and stretch the cuts.

“You’re late. What kept you?” You jolt, and turn around, your eyes full of fear. Your back slams against the door and you hold your hold to your chest, cradling the injured one with the other. “What happened to you?” Tomura frowns, his hand cupped as he places his hand to his mouth, eating whatever was in it. His eyes glance to where your hand is held, and you watch as they narrow, still focused on your hand as he walks towards you. “What’s in your hand?” You shake your head, your eyes filling with tears as he comes close to you. “Let me see.” He grabs your hand and before he can say anything you pull him close to you, crying into his chest.

“It was awful,” you cry. His hand nervously comes to pat against your chest, a tense moment before he lets his arms wrap around you, while a hand cradles the back of his head. “I was just walking and some guy mugged me-” you fail to notice how his hands tighten, clenching at your shirt and hair- “and- and I lost my umbrella and- Tomura, it was- I hated it.” You keep him close, sobbing into him, not wanting to be left alone. “I only got away because I kicked him but when I punched him, his quirk cut me and my hand hurts,” you bawl, words spilling out of your mouth without proper thought.

He grabs you from your shoulders, pushing you away from him and your hands clutch at your erratic heart, your breaths too ragged and uneven to let you calm down. Your eyes stay fixated on his chest, too blurry to even look away from him. Your voice spills over, words too quick for you to even register as proper sentences. His hands are the only thing steady on you, keeping you from falling apart.

“Slowly,” he tells you, his hands squeezing your shoulders. “Talk slowly.” He looks around, his lips pursed for a minute, before he pulls you on the ground, to sit on the floor with him, your hands held in his. “Just look at me and start talking.”

You nodded, and you take deep breaths that make your chest race. You explain to him slowly, trying to fit as many details as you can without retracting your statement. You pull a hand away, feeling it grow clammy around his. You rub your thumb against the side of your index finger as you recount the story.

At the end of it, he rises from the floor, leaving you sitting there with your legs crisscrossed and hand still in the air from where he let go. His hand reaches out to the table, grabbing his hand and placing it on his face, his face hidden from view and you reach towards him, collapsing on the floor as you grab the end of his pant leg.

“Don’t leave me,” you say with a dry mouth, staring at the laces of his shoes that are coated in a thin layer of dust. “Please,” you whimper and in the same breath, he pulls away from you, leaving you on the ground, on your hands and knees, over the spot where he occupied. You can only bite your lip when you hear the door slam.

It doesn’t take Tomura long to find the person you described. Orange hat. Stocky. Pale skin. It all checks out. The man is sat, pressed against a wall with their legs bent, in the pale lighting that the moon has to offer, he can see various things shine. His spoils from his robberies no doubt. The streets are quiet, only a few cars passing by and illuminating him, his shadow stretches across the alleyway and it causes the man to jump; to rise on his feet, a wet splat as his shoes hit the cement, and take on a fighting stance. But Tomura is quicker, hiding beside a garbage can, his eyes focused on the side, his breath quiet as he tries to hear for any movement.

“Who’s there?” The man calls out in a gruff voice. “I’m warning you, don’t fuck with me tonight!” His voice is strained, hoarse and almost painful sounding but it still carries over the threat well to any civilian who would be unfortunate enough to cross paths with him. But to him, he only sounds pathetic with how threatening he is trying to be.

If it were any other day, he’s sure that he would have ignored him, maybe he would have killed him if he were to get in the way of him and his comrades, but it isn’t any other day. It’s the day he chose to mug you and leave you with bloody knuckles. His chest tightens at the thought of you- seeing how you winced and how tears welled in your eyes.

Tomura removes a glove carefully, not daring to let it fall into his palm. He’s quick to stand tall as he stalks towards the man who turns quickly to see him. The man raises a hand, and even in the minimal lighting, he can see ice glint against their knuckles. A part of him wants to draw it out, to let the man suffer but he also needs to think of you. He needs to rid the world of the one thing that hurt you.

The man speeds up their pace, raising their fist high and throwing it down at an impressive speed, only to completely miss. Tomura ducks, slamming his fist into the man’s stomach, earning a sharp grunt in return. A fist slams into his back and he grits his teeth, his molars aching as they dig into each other. Tomura closes his fist, nails embedding themselves into his palm and he strikes, a heavy punch giving to the throat. A wet cough is echoed into the alleyway, yellow lights from a car’s headlights illuminate the both of them. Tomura swiftly takes steps back to watch as the man doubles over and holds their throat, taking in wheezing, wet breaths. Tomura rushes, slamming the end of his fist into the man’s head, watching as he collapses onto the floor. He stands over him, lifting his foot as the man turns around, blood dripping from the corner of their mouth. Even though it was a short fight, Tomura takes deep breaths, sweat forming at the base of his neck. Adrenaline courses through him, his mind blurry and full of nausea, he raises his foot and stomps against the man’s neck, his teeth showing through his smile as the man chokes, his hands clawing at the pavement leaving his nails splintered.

In a swift moment, Tomura sits above the man, his weight over the nameless man’s chest, and he raises his fist, slamming it down before the man can even recover from a stomp to the neck. He’s left gasping for air, wheezing and spitting thin blood out. A layer of frost forms over the man’s face but it’s quickly extinguished when Tomura slams his fist down, a loud crack making the man give out a pained cry. Blood oozes from his nose, spilling into the man’s open mouth, staining his teeth red.

“What-” the man lets out a hacking cough- “What the fuck did I do to you?” His eyes are beginning to swell, his hand tense and desperately trying to push against Tomura’s chest. “I can give you money-” he coughs and bloodied spit covers the back of Father’s hand.

Through the hand, Tomura narrows his eyes, hatred seeping into him and rotting his very core. He takes harsh breaths and the beating has left the man below him unable to even fight back; the only thing he is able to produce is frost that covers his throat. The bruising is a deep red, with small hints of purple and a faint orange that tinge the outer lines. Beneath the hand, Tomura opens his mouth to explain, but he is unable to. He stares at the beaten man with bloodied teeth who looks up at him with horror and tears in his eyes and simply raises his fist once more only to slam it back down, a sickening crack echoes in his ears.

“People like you shouldn’t be allowed to live,” Tomura says coldly, looking down at the man with a raised palm. “You should consider yourself lucky that I’m putting you out of your misery.” A car’s headlight flashes past and partially illuminates both men in a yellow glow, catching the moment where Tomura’s hand lands on the man’s neck.

He stops at your apartment complex, a sickening twist in his stomach as he realizes what his appearance will look like to you. You may be naïve, but you aren’t dumb. You’ll understand what happened if he were to walk in. His tongue laps at his lips, and he turns around, walking through the back of the apartment, his eyes lighting up as he finds a facet extending the back of the building. The metal is warm and sticks to his hand as he grips it painfully, twisting the hardened handle. Water splashes at his shoes, and he rushes to place his hand under the water, stiffening at the cold water.

Father is laid on the ground, and with fisted hands, he removes his hoodie, frowning at the specks of blood that have seeped into it. His pinkies are extended, and he wonders if you'd even see it. Would you be looking for blood on him if he were to arrive? Would you simply think that he got rid of the danger with just a touch of his hand? Would you even think he went out to find the scum that hurt you? He frowns, holding the fabric close to him. He looks around into the quiet night, and quickly makes a break to your apartment, rushing through the steps and knocking rapidly against your door with his knuckles.

You answer quickly, opening the door with wide eyes and without hesitation, you pull him inside by the wrist. The door is locked behind him, and when he turns to you, he expects a lecture- of what, he isn’t sure, but he’s aware that you’re upset at him for leaving you, especially when you had asked that he stayed.

He walks further into your home and he can hear your footsteps behind him, trailing and watching wherever he goes. He stops near a side table, removing Father and placing him near a picture frame of you and what he can assume are your friends. His lips curl at the image.

“Listen-” he starts, turning around to face you, but he isn’t given a chance to finish his sentence when you come towards him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“You can’t leave like that and just-” you take ragged breaths and he’s careful to not touch you, letting the heel of his hand pat against your back. You tense, and pull away, with a frown. “Your hands are cold.”

“Yeah, well, the faucet outside isn’t exactly warm.” He leans down and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I need to put my gloves on,” he comments, shrugging his shoulder to gesture at the hoodie that lays haphazardly over his shoulder.

You nod eagerly, grabbing his hoodie and reaching inside the pockets. He doesn’t miss how you let your eyes linger against a speck of blood that dots against the lining of the collar. Two gloves are pulled out, held gingerly in your hand and you nod your head, making a giving motion with your hand. At arm’s length, he extends his hand outwards, letting his knuckles appear to you in all their glory- cut, dried blood that sticks around the edge, and bruised.

You frown. They’re rinsed clean, but red still blooms around, bright against his pale skin and soft with how human he is. You hold his hand carefully, feeling the touch of his fingertips ghost over you in a fashion similar to that of a feather. You hold his hand, walking through your apartment until you reach the bathroom. The light is a bright white, the mirror speckled with drops of water against it. He stands there, watching as you grab a jar of petroleum jelly. It’s thick, washing over his cuts in a way that makes him grit his teeth. It’s almost too reminiscent of the way that you first met him and he wonders if you realize that as well. You carefully wrap a bandage around his knuckles, your tongue sticking out between your lips as you try your best to maintain the mobility of his hand. You hold your hand in his and he can still see your cuts, staining your skin as some horrible blot that bled all over you.

With eyes that follow your every movement, he watches as you bend over, your lips ghost over the freshly bandaged hand. He can feel a slight press of it, his fingers twitching at the feeling of it. When you lift, he turns your hand over, making it the center of attention. He holds your hand tenderly, letting the roughness of his fingertips press against your palm. You both hold similar wounds, but where yours are those of a victim, a frightened person held, whereas his is caused by malice, hatred seeping inside of him, rotting his core and making him bitter. And yet, there’s you, a sweet thing, honey colored and bright as the sun itself- you hold him and let him hold you. You tend to him, caring for him as if he had just fallen, and not beaten a man for you. He wonders how you see him; if you see him as a rotten being, forcing you into a relationship, corrupting your hands with his that were splattered with blood. When he looks up at you, he wonders if you even want his touch, if you only touch him because you fear that he will turn his anger towards you.

He wants to hold your hand without a glove. He looks up at you, your gaze stuck on where he holds you hand. “I wish I had a healer for you,” he murmurs, a thumb brushing at the edge of one of your cuts.

“Where did you- What did you do?” You ask in a small voice, your teeth worrying at your bottom lip.

Tomura smiles at you, his hands lifting outwards to you. Father lays on the countertop, witnessing as Tomura can only sigh lovingly at you. “I had to take care of some business.” It’s a simple answer, one that answers everything and nothing all the same. But, it’s the answer that you need; it’s the only answer that will ever truly satisfy you and let you live in a world of bliss.

You want to be safe. His hands are outstretched towards you- they are covered in gloves that only wrap around his last two digits and half of his hand. You look at his hands, your heart pounding in your ears and then you look up at him. He has a soft face, a subtle smile and eyes that push upwards with the little fat in his cheeks. You are safe. At least, with him you are. You nod to yourself, your hand slowly reaching upwards, your gaze on it and for a moment you are disconnected, simply watching as your hand fits into his. You are pulled to his chest, reconnected back with your body and mind, the stale scent of alcohol bitter in your nose but it’s proof that whatever it is, it’s real. His arms encase you in a hug that is a bit too tight and too reminiscent of all the things that have gone wrong and right in the past few days. Tears sting in your eyes, burning and threatening to overflow but you blink harshly, your hands clawing against the faded black hoodie that he wears. You simply want to be beside him. You don't want to cry. Well, you do, but it isn’t the way that you normally do. It isn’t an anguish cry that you want, but rather one of relief. He’s kept his word, he’s protected you.

There’s a tight feeling in your chest, something that twists around your heart and lungs, making it impossible to breathe, impossible to feel as if you are in your own skin. The tears in your eyes are blinked away, the only tell that you were going to cry is your slightly runny nose. You try not to let out an audible sniffle, but it happens either way. His arms tighten around you, and his hands press onto your back a bit harder, pulling you closer against him and you can’t help but shimmy away from him. He gives you an almost sad look in response, but nevertheless, he allows you to move away.

“Um-” your hand rises and scratches behind your earlobe- “are you hungry?” He perks up at your question, a twitch in his legs and his hand jolts, fingers dancing at his side. “I have some leftover chicken katsu if you’re interested?” Truth be told, you want him to spend the night with you, but something stops you from saying that. You're sure that he would have no problem agreeing to that and would be ecstatic to hear you be the one to propose that, but you still feel as if it's too soon. “Only if you want. It’s just like a thanks for, you know, helping me.”

He walks close to you, his hand lifting and brushing against your jaw in a touch that is too light to be his, too innocent for him and much too intimate for you. Your eyes are on his lips, dry and cracked, with little bits a bright red. He’s moving much too slow for your liking, leaning his head down with a sort of jittery motion that makes your stomach begin to hurt. His hands lift your head, a press of his thumb under your chin as he drags you along and you can smell his breath as it fans across your lips. This isn’t right, but it feels like it is. It feels like you have to tell him that it is. You aren’t even sure if you want the kiss or not. Or maybe that’s not even what he’s going for. You wonder if he’s had his first kiss before. Probably not and that thought makes your heart skip a beat, something light in your chest that makes it all the more difficult to breathe. Your own lips are dry, caked with tears and stuck together. Your tongue peeks between your lips, and the tip of your tongue meets his lips, and you take in a shaky breath, pulling away from him, your gaze torn from him and fixated on the floor beneath you.

Whatever spell you were under is broken, and you can’t bear to see the face he has on now. Will he be upset that you pulled away once more? Even after you promised- or at least alluded to that you would be in a relationship with him? Would he be understanding? Would he understand that you as you are right now are in a flurry of emotions that makes it hard to even think? Would he be sad? Disappointed that the moment wasn’t quite right? That he couldn’t share his first kiss with you? There’s a strange thought in your head, one where his first kiss is taken by someone who isn’t you and it makes you sick with acid on your tongue.

“I’d like some of that chicken katsu, actually.” Even with such a simple sentence, he has your attention. His hand curved around his neck, pulling at the skin and the hand that was placed on the side table is now back to covering his face.

“Tomura, I,” you drift off, saddened to see that his hand is back on but you don’t know what else to say to rectify this situation. You shift under his gaze, wishing that you could go back in time and accept his kiss. You nod your head. “Of course,” you mutter.

“Do you by any chance have some ginger ale?” He takes a step closer to you, and his request has you smiling. You aren’t sure why, but the thought of a villain asking for ginger ale makes you smile.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’ll get you some.” You stare at him for a second longer and with the thought of him rejecting you or you losing him, you walk towards him, your hand grabbing his. He tenses under your touch, his hand flexing open in a way that makes you smile. You bring his knuckle under your lips, kissing it tenderly but instead of pulling away, you let his rest there for another moment. You like the way that his hand feels in yours, how it feels under your lips. You let go of his hand and it stays still in the air. With a smile, you release a breath of air that you had been holding onto. “You can sit down, I’ll go get you when it’s ready, okay?” You smile at him, turning around on your heel as you make your way towards the kitchen.

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Pretty Smitten | Kuroo Tetsurou

Harry Potter x Haikyuu!!

Summary ◇ it's like second nature for Slytherin's beater Kuroo to always find something to tease you about, until his best friends Bokuto and Tsukishima make him realize it might hide something more.

Genre ◇ hogwarts au! Slytherin! Cocky Kuroo x Hufflepuff f!reader, mentions of Bokuto, Tsukishima, Hinata, Oikawa, Daichi etc...

◇ ◇ ◇

Thwap!

You duck out of the way just in time to evade the bludger that zips across your head, so close you feel it brush against your ear as your broom zooms you out of the way. The wind isn't making it easier as it tugs at your clothes, weighing you down while you keep on flying around the court with eyes as alert as a Hawk's for the disappearing snitch.

In truth, you don't really enjoy Quidditch all that much. It was merely due to the captain of the Hufflepuff Team, Daichi, who cornered you upon having accidentally caught sight of your flying skills one winter afternoon. He'd grown to be one of your close friends though, which always makea it hard to pull out and whenever you do mention that maybe it is time for the team to take in a new Seeker, he'd instantly change the subject.

And you wouldn't have been so adamant on trying to force your way out of the team. If not for a particular raven-haired Slytherin Beater.

Speaking of the devil. There he is, that familiar crooked smirk dangling upon his lips as he lazily flies over to you.

"Y/N, aren't you a little laid back!?" He calls out and you roll your eyes, pushing yourself forward to fly as past away as possible.

Too late. He catches up quickly enough, grin widening as he continues, "I know we said it's a practice match but come on, could've put some more heart into it."

Throwing him a scowl that would've scalded anyone but himself, you accelerate your speed. As expected, he follows, "so I heard from Kenma that you failed your Potions midterm. Not that I'm surprised really, you never really had a talent for--"

"How is that any of your business?" You mutter, adamantly fixing your gaze on Daichi so as not to accidentally push Kuroo off his broom.

What a nice thought indeed.

"Aha, that's where I come in. Fortunately for you, I am quite adept at Potions see. I could teach you," from your peripheral you notice him wriggle his brows and you roll your eyes, "for free."

Your knuckles turn white as they tighten around your broom handle.

"No thanks."

"You sure wanna pass this up?" He suddenly leans a little closer, smirk widening, "you could totally exploit this sexy brain of mine."

"What do you want from me, Kuroo?"

"Nothing much, just your dear old grumpy self," he replies cheerfully.

Your scowl deepens. But the offer is tempting. Potions is the only subject that you cannot get your head around and while you are aware of Kuro’s ginormous, self-inflated ego, you also know from a few of his classmates -- Daichi and Suga-- that he is quite the prodigy at Potions.

But you don’t want to give him that satisfaction. You don’t want to give him more reason to get cocky and start another round of endless teasing where you’ll never hear the end of it.

So you just press your lips together and mumble out a, "we'll see."

"Atta girl," and he waves a goodbye, but not before reaching over to ruffle your hair until your ponytail is barely hanging together, and you yelp in anger, having half a mind to really push him from his broom this time only to see him fly away just in time, that crooked chesire cat smile on his face.

Idiot.

◇ ◇ ◇

"Hey hey hey,” Kuroo knows without looking that this voice belongs to none other than one of his two best friends, Bokuto Koutarou. It was a surprise really, that him and Bokuto had stuck together throughout all these years, considering that Bokuto was a Gryffindor, and him a Slytherin.

An arm drops onto his shoulder, his best friend’s grey strands tickling Kuroo’s cheek, “I saw Y/N today. She looked cute.”

The Slytherin Beater snorted, “Cute is an overstatement.”

“Ah Kuroo, seems you’re as oblivious as always,” Bokuto let out a heavy sigh as he plopped himself onto the library bench next to him, “do you realize that you spend more time in the library just so that you can see her?”

“Bullshit. I come to the library to study,” the raven-haired man gestures towards his Defence of Dark Arts book currently sprawled out before him, which causes Bokuto’s eyebrow to raise in curiosity, “like hell you’re actually studying. Now tell me,” he leans closer, voice dropping to a murmur, “do you like her?”

Kuroo’s brain actually backfires. He bursts out laughing, “what?!” he exclaims so loudly that it earns the pair a few glares thrown their way, to which they silently bow their heads in apology.

Bokuto turns back to him, “Wow, Tsukki was right. You are thicker than you seem to be, despite that brain of yours.”

"What?” Kuro frowns as he protests, “I’m not thick. And--you guys talk about me behind my back?!”

“Of course we do,” Bokuto rolls his eyes as if it’s obvious before settling his chin into his palm, “especially since we’re curious as to why you enjoy spending your time with that little Hufflepuff mouse of yours--”

“She’s not mine, and I definitely don’t enjoy spending time with her,” Kuroo can feel the heat travel all the way to his face, blossoming through his cheeks as embarrassment curls in his stomach, “I just--”

“You just like seeing her face.”

Both men turn towards the new alto to see the Ravenclaw prefect, Tsukishima, pull out a chair to sit himself opposite Kuroo before taking out his piece of parchment and ink.

“Not you too?” Kuroo groans, head dropping to his book.

“Also, you might want to stop flirting with her while we’re on the Quidditch pitch,” Tsukishima continues nonchalantly without looking at him, long fingers turning through the pages to find the section he’s looking for, “I almost got my arm torn off by that Bludger, no thanks to you.”

"I wasn’t flirting with her.”

“I don’t care. Just don’t do it during practice. It’s annoying,” the blonde smirked at Kuroo’s frustrated expression.

“I was only asking whether she’d like some help with potions. Kenma told me she failed her last midterm. I was trying to be nice.”

“Oh? Not because you actually wanted to spend more time alone with her?” Bokuto wriggled his brows suggestively, cackling like a crow when Kuroo responded by shoving his shoulder, “no! I don’t even see her that way. She’s not my type--”

“Oya oya oya, speaking of the devil,” Bokuto’s hand plonks onto Kuroo’s hair before twisting it in the direction of the library entrance. A second later, you appear looking a little disgruntled, if not mad.

Realizing that Bokuto’s hand is still weaved into his hair, Kuroo bats it away with more violence than necessary, which gets him a pointed look from Tsukishima’s golden orbs that he responds with a scowl of his own. But before he can voice out how annoyingly invested the pair seemed to be in his love life, he feels a hand tapping him on his shoulder.

Surprise causes him to frown at the sight of you.

“If it isn’t my dear little Hufflepuff,” Kuroo’s mouth widens in that signature smirk while crossing his arms over his chest, “what can I help you with?”

“Kenma told me that you’d be here,” you say.

“Mhm?”

“And I--” you bite your lip before averting your eyes and something in Kuroo stirs because goddamn he’s quite excited about what will fall from your mouth next. But he keeps his silence, waiting for you to battle it out with your pride, “I was wondering whether the offer still stands. For--tu--tutoring.”

Your cheeks are blazing red at this point but Kuroo finds it somewhat adorable, what with the fact that you are dressed in an oversized Hufflepuff sweater that basically swallowa you whole.

He forces his expression into a somewhat amused smirk, a little coy, just enough for you to get flustered, “what made you change your mind?”

“My grades.”

In the background, Tsukishima snorts. You flush a deeper red if that’s even possible.

“Alright, sure,” Kuroo grins up at you, mischief swimming in those golden feline orbs, “but on one condition.”

“I thought you said it was free.”

“I decided it’d be more fun to have you indebted to me.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, you press your lips together, “what then? What do you want?”

“I’ll let you know the details later,” he grins at you, “still haven’t figured it out yet.”

A few beats of silence pass between the two of you as you consider his offer, and he can certainly see the way your own pride measures up against your desperation, the way your orbs display your uneasiness as clearly as crystal water. It’s impossible for you to lie, but Kuroo hasn’t noticed how endearing it is, up until now.

And then, he hears Bokuto’s voice in the back of his mind:

Do you like her?

Kuroo blinks. Of course he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t.

He doesn’t. He does not.

Right?

“Fine,” your voice brings him out of his inner turmoil, “we have a deal.”

◇ ◇ ◇

If someone had ever told you that one day you’d be sitting by Kuroo’s side to spend more than three hours sticking your noses into your Potion’s back, and actually enjoying it, you would’ve burst out laughing in their faces.

But that is exactly what you are doing right now. And no one is laughing. Definitely not you.

To be fair, Kuroo is not that bad of a tutor. He actually gets pretty into it once he calms down from his teasing high, which is quite a surprising feat considering that you have never seen him serious whenever you were around. It’s always about pricking you with his comments, saying stuff that will get under your skin just enough to get a reaction out of you.

The first time you met up in the library, you had mentally prepared yourself so that you wouldn’t murder him halfway into the lesson. Your Hufflepuff counterparts had definitely been surprised, not just because your personalities and houses couldn’t have been more different if they tried, but because Kuroo had a reputation of a playful troublemaker, the kind that you usually stayed away from at all costs.

“Are you sure this isn’t a trap, Y/N?” Your other close friend and classmate, Nishinoya Yu, had lifted his knife into the air with an aggressive swipe, “I can come with you and stab him if ever he does something--”

“Noya-kun I think I can stab him myself,” you reassured him through a mouthful of cereal.

“Kuroo’s not all that bad,” Daichi had suggested tentatively, though you’d snorted in response. Yeah right, not all that bad? That was a word you could not associate with Kuroo Tetsurou.

“If he pisses you off too much just ignore him,” Kenma had simply stated when you sought out his point of view on the matter, which seemed quite logical, a suggestion that you definitely took into consideration as you’d marched towards the library doors.

But all your efforts had been in vain. Sure, Kuroo had been his usual teasing self, ruffling your hair too many times that you could count and constantly snickering into his palm whenever you got your potions and terms all mixed up. But to your ultimate surprise, he’d been quite attentive to your needs and constantly fact-checked whether you’d understood the concept before continuing his explanation. More often times than none, you had found yourself gazing at his features as a realization settled deep into your mind; that Kuroo wasn’t all that bad looking after all, and that there was some kind of charm to his messy bed of raven hair and that smirk that seemed to infuriate you to no end.

He’d even accompany you back to your dorm whenever you ended late albeit the fact that Slytherin and Hufflepuff weren’t that far apart. The chivalry touched you, despite it coming from the Slytherin Beater.

“Who would’ve thought the almighty Kuroo would be walking me to my door,” you comment on the first night it happens as you reach the said portrait leading to the Hufflepuff dormitory, “how surprisingly romantic of you.”

You look up at him and your eyes can’t help but trace the span of his shoulders, taking note of his height and-- has he always been this tall? He’s a giant in comparison to your tiny figure of one hundred and sixty-three centimetres.

He merely chortles at your statement, “please, romance comes naturally to me,” he gestures his hands with extravagance to prove his point.

"Sure, big guy. If reciting off science puns at me counts as being romantic.”

“Oi! They’re funny okay!? You laughed.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re pitiful.”

He shoves your head to the side playfully in response and you yelp, hands flying up to fix your ponytail for the nth time that night, “stop touching my head or I might think it’s your fetish or something.”

“Even if it was, yours would be the last I’d be attracted to.”

You chuckle, “try harder Kuroo. Your comebacks suck.”

“Oh shut up midget.”

“Who’re you calling a midget?!”

Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve been spending a lot of time in Kuroo’s presence that he grows on you, or maybe it’s the fact that he might not be as bad as you thought he was. But it turns out to be more comfortable to spend time hanging out with him, familiar in ways and yet exciting, thrilling. He’s a jungle of adrenaline and filled to the brim with jokes that are more lame than funny, and yet there’s some kind of comfort to know that he isn’t as unapproachable as you first thought him out to be.

True to his word, Kuroo is quite brilliant at potions, and quite brilliant at sharing his knowledge in a way that actually makes sense. His natural flair of leadership and sympathetic understanding -- minus the jokes and the incessant teasing -- makes you wonder why he hasn’t been chosen as Quidditch Captain.

When you ask your question out loud during one of your study sessions, Kuroo only smirks, “are you complimenting me?”

“Just answer the damn question, Kuroo.”

"Jeez, aren’t you a little aggressive for a Hufflepuff?” he peeks at you from behind his raven bangs, “or should I call you..huffie puffie?”

You flick his forehead and he yelps, “lame,” you deadpan, “answer me.”

"They did ask me,” he says, leaning back to stretch out his long arms while you try not to focus on the sinewy veins of his forearms, “I refused.”

His answer surprises you, “Why?”

“Because Oikawa wanted it. You know him right?”

Who didn’t know of Oikawa? He’s a walking prince, struts around Hogwarts like its’ his private garden with his endless servants in tow.

"That’s it? That’s your reason?”

“He’s my friend. Wouldn’t be fair to him if I stole the limelight.”

“...are you sure you’re not secretly a Hufflepuff?”

“You mean a huffie puffie?”

He ducks just in time to avoid your slap, cackling like crazy until one of the prefects swat you with one of their books upon passing by.

“No, I assure you I’m not a huffie puffie,” his smirk mellows out into a grin before his chin comes to a rest upon his palm, “and plus, I’m not cute enough to be in that house.”

Heat springs through your cheeks. Is that a compliment or an insult? You’re not quite sure.

You decide to play along anyway, “yeah you’re right. You’re not cute enough.”

That does nothing to deter him however, as he keeps gazing down at you with those molten gold pupils half-closed with tenderness, almost lazy, which makes you feel like squirming in your seat.

“What?” you bark out as you look away, “stop staring. You’re acting like a creep.”

Chuckling and clearly not flustered by the fact that you’ve just caught him red-handed, the raven-haired Slytherin leans even closer, relishing in the way your face turns a bright scarlet. You lean away, slightly panicked, "wh--what do you think you’re doing?!”

“Oh nothing, just...” and with movements too quick to comprehend, you feel his fingers gently brushing against a stray strand of hair previously stuck to your lip.

“So, as I was saying before you interrupted me,” and Kuroo proceeds to drone on about the equal amount of hair needed for the polyjuice potion, not minding the fact that you are practically burning as red as a fire engine while your heart seems to be racing like you’ve just an entire lap around the Quidditch field.

I’m tired, you chant inwardly, I’m just tired.

There’s no way your heart can be beating for someone like Kuroo Tetsurou.

◇ ◇ ◇

Kuroo is in deep shit and he knows it.

To be fair, he wouldn’t have been if not for an annoyingly stubborn Gryffindor paired with the dry sarcasm of a particular Ravenclaw that would constantly pass him subtle remarks about the indefinite amount of time he seems to be spending with a certain Hufflepuff Seeker.

“Did you tell her yet? When are you gonna tell her?! Can we be there?! Can we--” Kuroo groans and hides his face a little deeper in his arms at the breakfast table, knowing full well that reprimanding his friend will only cause the latter to double his volume. And granted, Kuroo does not want an audience, not this morning. Especially not when he is minutes away from facing you in the Quidditch field.

And as if that’s not bad enough, Tsukishima has this obnoxious smirk on his face ever since he’s joined them at the table, eating his cereal with unreasonable gusto for someone who finds eating troublesome.

"I’m surprised you figured it out this fast,” the said blonde had stated last evening as the trio sat, huddled around a makeshift magic fire in the Boy’s Prefect Bathroom. It had become their usual hiding spot over the years.

Kuroo had opted for sipping onto his beer as he recalled the particular moment where he’d felt like he was floating on cloud nine. It had been that very morning itself where you had just gotten back your Potions test and without an ounce of hesitation, had bounded up to the Slytherin table during lunchtime, for once not minding the fact that there were a troop of Slytherins engulfing the raven-haired man on each side.

“Kuroo!” You’d shouted with such enthusiasm that your voice was almost unrecognizable, “Kuroo!”

But Kuroo had recognized it, turning just in time to catch your excited figure in his arms. Surprise flitted over his face at your bold move but it didn’t seem like you cared at that particular moment, practically squealing while shoving your test in his face.

“I did it! I got a B minus! That’s the best I’ve ever done in Potions so far!” you babbled in excitement, “you should’ve seen Snape’s face!”

“Uh--that’s great, Y/N--” good lord, his hands had slipped onto your waist, right along your hip bone and his breathing stuttered at how close you were, “g--good job.”

At this point you had probably realized your compromising position but before you could scramble out, a teasing alto rung through the air:

"Got yourself a girlfriend, Tetsurou?"

Both your heads snapped at none other than Oikawa, whose eyebrows were raised in amusement, a smirk painted over his lips. You pinked as Kuroo barked out, "shut it, Oikawa."

"S--Sorry," you moved away so quickly that coldness swooped in through Kuroo's fingers, though he wished he could pull you right back.

And that, that had been like a slap in the face. Cold reality rushing through him as his heart throbbed.

Uh oh.

"Don't be such a wimp Kuroo," Bokuto'a alto brings him back to reality and Kuroo blinks, faced with none other than his best friend's grin, "where'd your confidence go now that you actually have a chance?!"

Kuroo doesn't bother replying. It's hard enough to face you without melting in a puddle of heat, how is he supposed to confess at this rate?

As the trio make their way to the Quidditch pitch, the Slytherin Beater’s eyes easily found you amidst the swarm of Green and Mustard yellow and he raised his hand up in mock salute, heart melting slightly at the shy nod you replied him with before looking away, cheeks flushed.

So cute.

“Now now, Tetsu-chan, not the time to be flirting with your girlfriend,” he feels a hand slap him on his back a little too harshly, causing him to throw a scowl at his Captain. Oikawa merely pulls out his tongue in response, before motioning him to take his place.

He forces your face out of his mind while climbing onto his broom, momentarily closing his eyes to focus on the cheerful chants coming from the bleachers. The Quaffle is thrown into the air, followed by the whistle.

He kicks off so quickly from the ground that he’s a mere blur of silver and emerald zipping through the air, bat at the ready while his eyes dart back and forth. Kuroo spots a Bludger heading straight for one of his chasers and quickly veering off in the same direction, he swings his bat back, lunges forward--

Thwap!

The distant ache reveberates through Kuroo’s arm, but the smirk of satisfaction is obvious on his face. He proceeds onwards, forcing himself to keep his concentration on the balls so that his thoughts aren’t invaded by your presence, by the way you smile, or the blush on your cheeks--

Focus! He shakes his head. He swears he could use a good bashing on the head. He’ll never hear the end of it with Oikawa if he doesn’t do his job right.

A yell tears through the pitch.

“Watch out!”

Kuroo’s head whips around on instinct. He doesn’t even have time to react as he spots the Bludger flying from the other end of the pitch and heading straight towards--

You.

No. Blood drains from Kuroo’s face. He doesn’t think, doesn’t even second-guess his movements. He pushes forward onto his broom against his protesting muscles, against the voices that shout out his name in protest as the entire pitch turns into a cacophony of horrified yells and cries to get out of the way, get out of the way before--

A sickening crunch is heard and horror strikes him straight in the chest the moment he sees your body crumble, lips parting in a silent scream.

Kuroo’s heart shatters into a million pieces.

◇ ◇ ◇

Warm.

It’s so warm. You don’t feel like waking up. But instinct kicks in and you groan, an echo of pain jogging through every muscle in your body. It feels like you’ve just been run over by a truck and forcing your eyelids to peel open against the drowsiness, it takes a few seconds for you to register that this isn’t your room.

Fresh laundry sheets, the sound of disinfectant in the air...This is no doubt the Hospital Wing.

You try to sit up but a muffled groan echoes through your throat when pain flares up on your right side. Jesus christ, you did really get run over by a truck.

That’s when your gaze suddenly falls upon a mop of dark raven hair, feel the warmth of a calloused palm holding onto your free hand.

And suddenly, you’re wide awake.

With the dark emerald cape hanging off his back and with his tousled bird’s nest of hair, it’s almost shockingly obvious that this is Kuroo. His face is currently buried in his other arm, which gives you the courage to reach out to gently rest your hand upon his head.

As if sensing your movements, the said raven-haired Slytherin lets out a soft groan of his own. Your hand instantly whips away and you watch, with a mixture of confusion and surprise, as his golden orbs blink away the sleep before they slowly come to focus.

His breath hitches as you murmur out, “hey?”

"Y--You’re awake?” He murmurs so low you barely make sense of his words, and before you can respond, the man has grabbed hold of your hands before bringing them to his lips, “Jesus christ, Y/N, I--I seriously thought--”

Your pulse only quickens, heart tugging with emotion when you catch sight of the wetness in Kuroo’s golden orbs. What?

What is going on?

This Kuroo is not the one you are used to, looking like he’s unraveling at your very feet. In any normal circumstances, you would’ve definitely taken this advantage to tease him mercilessly, but that’s clearly impossible. You can’t do that to him, not when he’s gazing down at you like you’re worth a thousand paintings.

The thought makes your heart quiver in your chest. Warmth curls through your stomach.

“What...” you rasp out, “happened?”

“A bludger. Came out of nowhere. Headmaster thinks it got tweaked somehow, some stupid prank,” he is searching your eyes, reading your facial expressions like he’s worried you might drop dead any second.

“Kuroo," you call him gently, “I’m fine.”

And to your utmost surprise, the raven-haired Slytherin’s eyes flutter towards your hands, lips peppering a rain of kisses along your knuckles. They leave a trail of heat that causes your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, “Wha--”

“I thought I'd lost you, Y/N. Don't--" his voice chokes up, gaze running up to lock with yours, "don't ever scare me lile that. Fuck, kitten, what would I have done--"

Your own breath hitches. Your eyes grow wide.

Kuroo seems to realize the same thing, hand slapping over his mouth in shock.

"What--" you splutter out. Suddenly, all your pain is forgotten, "did you call me?"

Kuroo swallows thickly as the silence settles between you two.

Then, he breaths in slow and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before opening them back to lock eyes with yours.

What swims in his golden feline pupils makes your breath catch.

"I like you," he murmurs, "I've liked you for a while but was too much of a coward to say it. And I guess-- seeing you so hurt scared me. I don't think I've ever been so scared before."

Your skin is basically burning at this point, a volcano of feelings bursting inside you that makes you want to crawl into a hole and hide there forever. But Kuroo's eyes, despite having the slightest tinge of blush littering his cheeks, is still latched onto your features. Unwavering, probing. Questioning.

He likes you.

"You mean--like? As a--"

"More than a friend," he simply says.

Your mouth opens into a small silent Oh.

You don't know what to say. What to do.

Because in truth, if you really have to be honest with yourself, your heart definitely beats for this particular Slytherin. For god knows whatever reason, he’s been on your mind and in your heart for a few weeks now.

You wish to say something. Anything. But your throat is dry. You cough it out, swallow and slowly let out a soft breath before your orbs slowly flutter to your lap, to your hands that Kuroo has grasped so tenderly in his hold.

“The feeling--” you gulp back your pride, “the feeling is mutual, I guess.”

You don’t have to look at Kuroo to know that there’s a huge grin that blossoms across his face and not even a second later you’re rewarded another rain of kisses upon your knuckles. Gasping slightly at his boldness, his grin mellows out into that teasing smirk you know so well, though it does bring about a few butterflies roaming through your stomach.

“Ooh, mutual now is it?” Kuroo’s smirk broadens like a cat about to go for a chase and you squirm in your bed, hating how quickly the tables have turned, “weren’t you the one blushing like an idiot just a few seconds ago?!” you splutter out as a miserable defence.

He merely cackles though, leaning in so close that you yelp, “remember about my condition for tutoring you?”

He’s so close that your noses bump into each other. It doesn’t help your heart from running an erratic race inside your chest.

You scramble for coherence, “w--what about it?”

“I figured out what it is.”

"What?”

You try -- and fail -- to lean away when Kuroo’s hand slips up to cradle the side of your cheek, and your body reacts like wildfire, troops of butterflies erupting in your stomach at his tender caress.

“Let me kiss you?” Kuroo mumbles out with a hoarse alto, so hoarse it makes you shiver and your toes to curl in delight, spurred on by the words that have just left his mouth.

Gold pupils meet yours. Then, your head dips into a shy nod.

Kuroo’s mouth is warm, and soft, and pleasant. He kisses you slowly, gently, like he’s afraid you’d run away if he pressed on too quickly. You’re not used to it, but you feel like it can grow on you. The way your body relaxes into the kiss has the raven-haired man more confident. His thumb traces your cheek while he slants his head a little more to capture your bottom lips with his own, sucking slightly.

You gasp at the sensation and he smirks -- just barely -- and proceeds to kiss you a little deeper. Deep enough, firmly enough that you can’t help the whimper that escapes you.

“Cute,” Kuroo mumbles against your lips, retracting so that you can breathe. You haven’t realised up until now, that your hands have made their way to the back of Kuroo’s cloak to tug him closer, or how the said man is literally half-sprawled across your hospital bed.

That is, until you hear a certain voice shout out:

“Oya Oya! What do I see here?!”

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 4 years ago

Text

🐰🎩NEW TRICKS🎩🐰

Prompt: Y/N decides to show Mr. Moxley some new tricks in order to certify him that he is still her number one

Word Count: Long

Pairings: Jon Moxley x Reader

Warnings: +18, oral sex (male receiving), angst, jealousy, cursing, praise kink

Tag: @jibbles26 , @bellalutionn

Notes: I’m a sucker for the power that blowjobs hold upon guys. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Hi doll, what you’re up to?” He smirks as he nibs my neck

“Just working. Why? Do you need something?” I ask as I remove my reading glasses

“I do, actually”

“What do you need babe?” I look up to his blue eyes that were filled with mischief

“You” He grinned

“Jon, I thought you needed something urgent” I chuckle

“I do!” He pulls me off my desk chair “I missed you so much” He cradled his face on the crook of my neck

“Jon, we’ve had sex six times yesterday and two times this morning, how can you physically still miss me?” I laugh “That’s like, 8 rounds in less than 24 hours babe! And you only got home yesterday”

“I can’t help it that you’re so fucking hot and looks so sexy all the time” He licks a trail from my neck to my lips

I look down to my current outfit that consisted in a comfortable pair of grey leggings, an oversized Korn t-shirt, Wilson’s crew socks, glasses, messy hair and no makeup

“I don’t think I look very sexy right now” I cackled

“Yes you do! You always do!” He pulls me closer to his crotch by my ass “C’mon Y/N, let’s do some fun nasty business, kitten” He slaps my ass quite vigorously

“Tempting, but I’ll have to decline it! Sorry big guy” I patted his chest

“Why?” He whined and stomped his feet like a little kid

“Because some of us got some serious work to do” I smiled fondly as I sit back in my desk chair

“But I wanna be with you! I need you and I want you now!” He pouted

“Jon, I promise you that once I finish this I’ll be all yours ok love?”

“No” He whines “Not later, right now!” He stomps his feet again

Yes, Jon Moxley can be quite the bad boy, but what a lot of people don’t know is that he’s also a fucking whining little baby! He gets an attitude over the dumbest reasons and sometimes this little scenario happens, where he thinks he can whine and pouts his way until he get what he wants. Sometimes it’s cute and charming to see such a big bearded man like him cause such a scene, but another times like right now it’s annoyingly frustrating, uncalled for and the last thing I need to get me even more stressed out.

“Jonathan, don’t start it! You’re not 4 years old! You’re a grown ass man in your 30’s, so behave as such” I turn to my computer and start to type my notes. After 10 minutes I can still feel his presence behind me, making me grow more nervous

“Jon, you’re not helping, my love” I said calmly

“I’m waiting. You said I would have you once you’re done so I’m waiting!” He bitterly said

“Won’t you rather wait in the couch instead? Meanwhile you can pick a movie for us to watch it later” I try to negotiate

“Meh, I’m perfect where I am right now, thanks for the concern” He huffed

*Oh great, what a fucking joy!* I thought

“This might take a while” I defeatedly said

“Don’t worry, I got time” Was his short answer

Fifteen minutes (and a stubborn Jon Moxley sitting on the floor) later I get a call from Peter, my coworker.

“Hey Peter what’s up?” I say holding my phone to my ear with my shoulder “What? Wait Peter, hold on I can’t hear you properly and I can’t stop typing”

“Well, put it on speaker then” Jon mumbled behind me and in my workaholic haze I did it as he told me, forgetting about one little small detail: Peter’s innocent (but also kind of annoying) flirting.

“Pete, can you repeat that again please?” I rapidly say while I type

“I asked when do you think you can send me the paperwork?” He chuckled

“Oh! Can you give me like....30 minutes?”

“I can give you whatever you want” He charmingly said

“Peter, shut up”

“What?” He cackled “It’s true you know, ask and you shall receive, my dear”

“I didn’t knew you were a Jesus fan” I mocked

“I’m your fan” I can hear the smile on his voice

“Whatever weirdo” I brush it off as I continue to type on the dashboard “Is that all you needed?”

“No, there’s one more thing that I forgot to ask you”

“Ok, shoot” I said

“When are you finally going to accept any of my nightcaps invitations?” Pure amusement filling up his voice

“Oh God send me to hell, fuck off Peter!” I jokingly said and hung up

I totally forgot the fact that Jon had heard that until his voice broke the silence

“So how long have you been seeing each other?” He rudely spats

“What? Seeing who?” I ask confused

He stood up from the floor, yanked me off the chair and trapped my body between his and the table.

“Your sweet boy Pete” he coldly smiles

I roll my eyes “Jon, are you really gonna take a guy like Peter seriously? He quotes Jesus to flirt! That’s nothing but pathetic and also slight disrespectful towards Jesus” I joke

“You think this is funny? What if you caught me flirting with a girl from work, how would that make you feel?”

“It depends if you’re gonna quote Jesus or not” I tease

“Y/N I’m fucking serious! Is this a joke to you? Our relationship is a joke to you? Am I a fucking joke to you?”

“My answer is no to all the above. Now if you ask me if I think that you’re overreacting then yes, I do”

“Overreacting? Really? What about all of the nightcaps invitations? Are you gonna tell me I’m overreacting about that too?” His voice starts to rise

“I don’t like your tone Jonathan” I angrily said

“And I don’t like you having an affair with your coworker!” He yelled

“Oh, so I’m having an affair now? Wow, I better accept those invitations then, if I’m going to hold the cheating girlfriend of the year award” I spat

“Are you having an affair with him?”

“How can you even ask that? You know me better than that Jonathan!” Now I’m yelling too, peachy just peachy!

“Well you didn’t answered my question though. Are you?”

“Of course not! What makes you think that?”

“You don’t wanna have sex with me, so where are you getting some? ‘Cause we both know you have quite the appetite for sex, I mean fuck, is hard even for me to keep up with you! You’re like a fucking machine!” He says

My eyes widened in disbelief “So just because I declined to have sex with you 30 minutes ago, because I have to work, I am suddenly a cheater? Or is it because I like to have sex more than the average women do that makes me a cheater? Wow Jonathan, I’ve never heard you say that when one of your male friends cheated. That says a lot”

“Says a lot about what?”

“Your sexist side. Or I don’t know, maybe it’s something else, maybe you are the one who’s cheating on me! So you’re mirroring your infidelity on me”

“Me? A sexist? Now that’s a joke” He laughs “We both know the things you’ve already done to me in the bedroom and trust me pumpkin, if I was a sexist I would never had let you go down that road, if you know what I mean” He measured me up and down “And even if I wanted to cheat on you, which is not the case, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t physically be able to since you knock my ass down every single time we fuck”

“I don’t hear you complain! In fact if I remember correctly you were the one who got in here wanting to have sex in the first place” I huff annoyed

“And I still do kitten” He gets closer

“Don’t touch me, jerk”

“You know how much it turns me on when you get all mad like that, right?” He tried to grab my breasts but I slapped his hands away

“Stop, Jonathan”

“What?” He leans closer, pressing his hardening bulge against my lower belly “Am I not good enough for you anymore? Do you prefer your boy Pete instead?”

“Bullshit” I spat

“Then show me, kitten” He whispers “Show me I’m still good enough for you” He makes me grab a handful of his erection “Show me that you still want me, that I still turn you on”

I pulled him down towards me by his neck, kissing him roughly, biting his lower lip quite harshly

“Hmm” He growls “My kitten is feisty, I like that” He smirks “I love when you’re a bitch to me” He laughs devilishly “Whatcha gonna do, huh?”

I forcefully open the button of his jeans, pulling the fly down and yanking the pants along with his boxer briefs down.

Jon put his hands up, in a surrender position. I lick my palm and close my fist around his cock, pumping it up and down.

“Yes baby” He moaned “Take it! Take what’s yours”

I kneel down and without thinking twice, I swallow his length until it reaches the back of my throat

“Fuuuuck! Y/N, baby...so good, you suck my dick so fucking good kitten! I love it, I fucking love it!” He moans and I push him further down my throat, swallowing around him

“Oh my fuck” He bucks his hips forward in surprise “How can you be so good at this?” He whispers, holding my hair back, so he can watch me sucking him off

“You look so fucking gorgeous sucking my cock baby. Fuck, look at that! Look at how well you take everything in”

I look up at him, hearing him continuing to praise me

“I love when you look at me...so beautiful with your mouth full of cock, so greedy for more aren’t you, baby?”

I nod, lifting his member up so I can lick the bottom half of his shaft, making him moan loudly

“You’re so insanely good at giving head! A fucking pro” He panted “The best head I’ve ever gotten”

I lock my lips around the head, sucking it hard to make him feel the pressure I know he loves, while my hands pump his length with a tight grip

“Oh yes, baby” Jon screamed in pleasure “Oh my fucking- Stop, stop” He moans with his eyes hazy in ecstasy, mouth in an ‘O’ shape as he bites his knuckles to prevent any screaming.

“We both know you don’t want me to stop” I smile, licking from the bottom of the head to his slit

“You’re gonna pay for this” His voice shakily says

“I wouldn’t threaten me if I were you baby” I smirked “I have other tricks that I’ve never showed you before” I whisper, feeling his length throbbing on my hand

“Other tricks?” He faintly whispered

I let go of his member and lay down on the floor beckoning to him.

“Come here Jon, let me show it to you baby”

Please let me know your thoughts on this? Feedback is always appreciated 🥰😘

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lilchibi-chan · 4 years ago

Text

Hawks Mafia! AU x Reader

This post/series is inspired by mailorderfriend on TikTok. I love her videos and when she did this series, my mind started going WILD! Details will be inspired by her videos (obvi) but everything else will come from my head.

CW/TW: THIS CHAPTER DOES CONTAIN MENTION OF ATTEMPTED ASSAULT, SO IF THAT IS TRIGGERING FOR YOU, YOU CAN SCROLL PAST IT, I WILL ALSO INSERT A WARNING BEFORE SAID ASSAULT TAKES PLACE!!

You work at a local diner in the city and make pretty good money. Business men come in on their lunch break and even late at night when they’re working late. A few of them try to impress you and make comments about you being beautiful and how you’re “much too nice of a girl to be working in a place like this”. You know it’s just for them to show off to their friends, although you do make great tips from it. They feel entitled because they work in these big beautiful buildings and look down on everyone, but that stuff doesn’t impress you.

There is one guy that sticks out to you. He has ash blonde hair and these amber/golden eyes and always has on the nicest suits, like really expensive looking and tailor made.Not like the business men that you usually see. You could tell he was rich or at least had more than enough money he knew what to do with, but he wasn’t arrogant. He always comes in when you’re working late, which has been everyday lately (just trying to make a little extra cash). He’s always nice to you and always asks how your day has been. He insists on calling you pet names like baby bird and hummingbird, but you don’t mind them. He says them in more of an endearing way than a i’m-trying-to-get-in-your-pants way.

When you’re closing, he stays until you leave. You don’t find it weird at all. He has this aura about him that just makes you feel safe. He makes you feel at peace, happy even.

It’s been raining for the past week and you have been dreading closing, but you needed the money since your roommate had moved out. You were on the hunt for a new one, but didn’t have any bites yet.

“Excuse me sir,” you say to the very handsome,blonde haired man

“Yes, hummingbird,” he says looking into your eyes, each yours with his

“Um, we’re closing, s-so I have to ask you to leave,” you say nervously.

“That’s alright,” he says with a soft smile,“you have a Goodnight baby bird. Get home safe and be careful out there with all that rain.”

“Th-thank you sir,” you reply,still nervous

“Enough of the sir business, please call me Hawks”

“Yes si-I mean Hawks”

“Good girl,” he says in a low voice, then pats your head

He made his way out the door and towards his car. It was a blacked out Audi R8. He waved to you before he pulled off and you gave a small wave back.

You noticed there was man sitting in a corner booth. He was a regular, but he never came this late.You noticed the scent of liquor as you got closer to him.

“Sir,” you say tapping his shoulder

“Hey gorgeous,” he says drunkly

“Sir, we’re closing. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” you say nicely, but firm

“I’ll leave... if you give me your number and let me take you out,” he says grabbing your hand

“Sir, I’m not allowed to fraternize with guests and that includes dating them,” you say pulling your hand out of his

“C’mon beautiful. You always treat me well when I come in and I see the way you look at me. You think I don’t notice, but I do. You want me,” he says standing over you

You mentally roll your eyes

“Sir, that’s just me doing my job. It’s called courtesy and being respectful. I’m going to have to ask you to leave now”

“C’mon stop denying it. You and I both want this. I know it, you know, so c’mon. Let me take you out,” he says going to grab your arm, but you back up

“Sir, this is the last time I’m going to ask you. Please leave,” you say in a slightly pissed off tone

“Look, I’m not screwing around,” he says finally grabbing you

WARNING: ATTEMPTED ASSAULT HAPPENS IN NEXT PARAGRAPH, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SCROLL PAST IF THAT IS SOMETHING THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE/IS TRIGGERING!

You try to pull away, but this time his grip is much stronger in you. He pushes you into the corner booth and forces you to lay down. He lowers himself to kiss you, but the door swings open causing his attention to go there.

“Well, well, well... what’s going on here? That’s no way to treat a lady, sir” he says smiling

“Stay out of this, it has nothing to do with you,” the customer says,still hovering over you

“Oh, it very much does sir cause ya see, I don’t really care for people disrespecting women in any way, but especially if it’s her.”

“Tch. Get lost before I have you limping out of here”

“Sir, you’re the one that’s probably not gonna make it out of here”

“You think you’re tough. Go ahead and try. I’ll lay you out right here,” the customer says finally getting off you

You’re able to sit up and see that it was Hawks who came to your aid.

You see him remove his suit jacket, fold it, then he lays it over the booth closest to the door. He started rolling up his sleeves and made his way toward the customer trying to have his way with you.

Hawks grabs the man and throws him to the floor. He then joins the man and places a hand around his throat.

“How does it feel to be the bitch now, huh? Come back here and I promise it’ll be the last fucking thing you do. If I see or hear that you’ve been hanging around, I’ll fucking kill you,” he says with a smile

He meant what he said.

Hawks releases his hold and let’s the man up off the ground. He races out of the diner and doesn’t even think to look back.

Hawks makes his way over to you and at first you’re unsure if you should let him near.

“Are you alright, baby bird,” he asks with a tinge of sadness in his eyes

“Y-yeah. Thanks to you. H-how did you even know-“

“I saw him when he came in and something felt off. When I drove off, I only parked across the street. I watched just in case he tried anything and I’m glad I did.”

“Th-thank you Hawks,” you say, still shaken up by the events that just occurred

He looks at you softly. His eyes saying ‘I’m here for you. You’re safe with me’

“Get your stuff baby bird. I’ll take you home, you shouldn’t be alone tonight,” he says softly as to not startle you or make you feel any more uneasy

You simply nod and get your stuff from the break room in the back of the restaurant.

You meet Hawks in the front and you feel the sudden urge to hug him.

This surprises him, but he hugs back and rubs the back of your head.

“Thank you,” you squeak out

He smiles and lets out a small hum.

He takes your hand and guides you to his car, covering you both with a huge umbrella.

He opens the door of the passenger side and lets you get in first. He does a small jog around and gets in on the drivers side.

“Comfortable, baby bird?”

“Mhmm”

“Good, so where we headed,” he says smiling

You tell him the address and starts the car. The drive is quiet, but comfortable. Hawks even put on the seat warmer for your chair to further comfort you.

He makes it to the front of your building and wakes you up gently. You weren’t even aware that you had nodded off.

“We’re here, humming bird”

“Thank you, Hawks...for everything,” you say grabbing his hand and rubbing his knuckles with your fingers

“Anytime...here,” he says handing you a business card

You examine the nicely crafted card and smile

“That’s my cell number. Whenever you need me, don’t hesitate”

“Thank you,” you say mentally kicking yourself because you keep saying thank you,“I promise that’s not the only thing I can say, but I’m appreciative of everything you’ve don’t for me tonight”

He laughs

“It’s fine and you’re welcome. I’m bein honest though kid. In fact, how about I give you a job at my company? It pays more than you working at the restaurant and I have top of the line security, that way you’ll always be safe. You’ll even make enough that you won’t need a roommate”

“I’ll think about it. Thank you though. I just wanna get through tonight. When I can actually think, I’ll let you know”

“Alright, baby bird. Well you get on up to your apartment. I’ll leave once you’re inside.”

You get out the car and enter the code to enter your building, then you take out your key fob to enter the second set of doors and to use the elevator. When you get up to your apartment, you look out the window and see Hawks’ car still sitting in the same spot. You can’t help the smile that grows on your face.

You text him, letting him know you’re in your apartment and you’re safe. He takes a minute, but eventually pulls off.

You head to your bathroom to wash the day off and head to bed.

Art by kawaiitentacle on IG

Hope you guys enjoyed this! I wanted to give you this in the meantime while I figure out how to extend Siren Song (I hate writers block).

197 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

The Studio - Min Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 9.8k words

Genre: fluff, smut, mild angst

Rating: 18+

Hello my little raspberries! Here we go with Yoongi’s studio one shot. I’ll try and explain as briefly as I can for those new to this: Kitten is the nickname Yoongi has given to the reader (read more about the nicknames here), so basically this is a readerxYoongi.

To sum up the context of the fic quickly without reading all the rest (including some stuff which hasn’t been published yet [if you wanna read it vote for Illicit Affairs *wink wonk*]), Yoongi and Kitten have been dating for months but Yoongi kept postponing stuff with her (much to Kitten’s dismay — more like utter desperation) until their schedule in Japan was done. When they do reunite, they basically live joined at the hip — pun intended — but unfortunately, since tour is approaching, Yoongi has to take a week to focus on his job, promising Kitten the weekend. As Friday nights falls, Kitten decides to come claim her prize, and she comes carrying a lethal weapon.

Description and trigger warnings: Lots of swearing. As usual there is unprotected sex (these two got tested before going bare, please be like Yoongi: be smart, get tested). Female masturbation (with bullet vibrator), Kitten acts up since Yoongi acts oblivious and indifferent (surprise: He. Is. Not.), Trauma from past relationship (Kitten has had a pretty shitty ex who ignored her needs and made her very uncomfortable about having someone go down on her), Male masturbation, Oral sex both male and female receiving, Sensation play and slight foot fetishism, cum play and cum eating (it was necessary), lowkey spanking, multiple orgasms, hinted squirting.

Word count: 9.8k

Here is my updated Masterlist!

The receptionist led you through a daedalus of rooms and glass doors. After a few turns you spotted the sign of the Rkive, nothing but darkness coming from behind the glass door. He was probably already at home, maybe with his girl. From what Yoongi had told you, Namjoon had been working from home for the last few days, only coming in for rehearsals, leaving shortly before dinner. You had crossed her on the lift once as she carried a weekender, smiling at you, before you both headed for the same corridor, stopping at neighbouring doors, both ringing the doorbells and waiting.

"You must be Kitten, uh?" She said, using Yoongi's nickname. You asked yourself how she knew that.

"Vixen?" You replied, guessing that she was the woman that Namjoon told Yoongi about.

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, I guess you can call me that too. Pleased to meet you." She said, introducing herself with her full name. Just as you shook her hand, introducing yourself, Namjoon came to the door in a pair of loose grey sweats and a white t-shirt, greeting her with a "hey babe" before he spotted you, waving cutely at your form before Yoongi opened the door for you, with a way less appropriate "fuck, I'm starving, come here" which had the couple next door secretly giggling as your needy partner dragged you past his threshold and smashed the door closed.

That was just two weeks ago. You went from a week of daily sex — with multiple rounds — to a complete caresty. You were almost ready to hump a streetlight like a stripper pole, however you thought you'd much rather surprise your man and knock at his door like a discreetly civilised young woman.

Lost in your thoughts you didn't even realise you had reached his door.

"Here we are, shall I ring?" The receptionist asked.

"Yes, please." You said with a polite smile.

"I think I've already seen you."

You nodded. "My firm works for yours. I have come here before." You confirmed.

"Oh, that makes sense."

Yoongi opened the door, his mouth composing a surprised expression, and then his signature gummy smile, which you mirrored. "You're here."

You nodded, mirroring his expression.

"Thank you, Mr. Kang." He said, holding his hand out for you. You caught it immediately as he led you through the door.

"That's okay, boy." The older man, quite surely a member of security greeted both goodnight and headed back for his spot.

"He's my favourite. Sometimes when his shift ends we eat dinner together. He's amazing." He said with a soft smile. He brought your joined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "How's the weather outside?"

"Not too cold, but the air is pretty damp, I just hope it rains. It's very foggy tonight." You said, taking off your coat.

He grabbed your face as both your hands were still caught in your sleeves, planting his lips on yours. "Lemme finish a couple things on this one then we're all set and we can head home."

"Are you the only one left?" You asked.

Yoongi nodded. "Normally it's me and Joon working late and heading back home together, but lately he's been going back home to Vixen. I've heard he's trying to get her to move in."

"Haven't they been dating for a couple months?" You questioned.

"So what. We've also been dating for a couple months but would you say no if I asked you to move in with me?"

You thought about it.

"Seriously?" He asked, scandalised at your hesitation as he headed back to his chair.

"I mean…!" You complained, trying to win him back. "It's just a couple months. I would take it easy, maybe first I’d start with staying for the weekend and then see if I can handle it during weekdays too, gradually. A bit at a time."

He acted as if he weren't listening.

"Yoongi!"

"Busy." He replied.

"You cannot not listen to what you don't like." You said, with a curious giggle.

"Call me when you're ready to say 'If you asked me to, I would move in tomorrow'". He typed, but it sounded more like a dramatic gesture than some actual typing. "Plus, I will unlisten to whatever you say that doesn't respect the I-love-you-I'm-a-sucker-for-you-Yoongi agenda."

You moved closer to his chair, standing behind him, bending down to his ear. "What if I put my lips, right here." You teased, "would you listen to me?"

He shivered and you snickered like a vicious predator.

"Uh?" You urged him.

"You won't distract me like this." He said.

"Not even if I said 'I love you, I'm a sucker for you, Yoongi'," you moaned in his ear, "not even then?"

He shifted in his seat, his lips parting. "No." He said, but his voice was extremely unsure, not even a glimpse of firmness in it.

"Don't lie to me." You murmured. Your hands spreading over his pectorals. He might not be as buff as some of the other guys, but he was secretly well built, especially on the chest area. You had personally tested that out.

He withheld a moan. "I'm not distracted."

"You're getting hard, Yoongi." You commented, noticing his bulge. You let your hands crawl lower, down his stomach, where his sweater met the waist of his slacks. "I missed you so much these past few days." You whined, trying to find the button of his trousers.

He slapped your hand. "Let me finish and we can head home. There you can tell me how much you missed me." He said, his voice almost sounding like a warning. "In detail."

"But I want you now."

"Stay put and wait."

You tutted and stood up. "Cockblocker." You snarled under your breath, sitting on the sofa.

"How can I cockblock you if you don't even have a cock?" He argued back.

You chuckled. "Shut up." You rummaged in your bag, smirking when you found your little personal pouch. "Plus, why would I need a cock when you can share yours with me?"

It was his turn to chuckle. "You, shut up." He said back at you. "If you were smart enough, you would keep quiet and be good, so I can finish my job and take you home."

The fact that you immediately thought of his place scared you a little. You absolutely understood Vixen and Namjoon's position at this point. With the guys' schedule, which includes working hours, trips, shootings, TV and radio appearances, then briefings and their own meetings and the oncoming tour, you started fearing how it would end up with you and Yoongi: your relationship had blossomed in fits and starts through Yoongi's determination and commitment, and your curiosity towards him. It had kept going because of the incredible attraction, the sense of balance and the sacred quiet and respect that you could reach in each others' company.

"Home where?" You asked, shutting up your mind.

He turned with his chair. "This should be enough to show you that Namjoon is right about having her move in. And that I would be right too if I wanted you to."

He wanted to. After he'd come back home from Japan, you had spent the rest of the week going back to his place after dark, having dinner, taking care of each other, sleeping together. The week after that you basically went back home only to grab a few things before going back to his. Then on Sunday he told you he had rehearsals at BigHit, and usually those go on till late, so he would be staying at the dorms, promising you he'd spend whatever free time he had with you and that he would see you in the weekend, when the rehearsals finish earlier and they have less disturbing timetables.

That's how you found yourself in his studio, on Friday night at 10pm.

"How long do you have left there?" You asked.

"Mh, maybe twenty minutes. I was just doing a little bit of fact checking and research for some references. Almost done."

"No listening?" You asked, testing for any catch in your plan.

"No, i don't think so, why?" He kept scrolling on his screen.

As you quietly took off your trousers, you chirped out a "nothing" shedding your jacket too in the process. You sat on his sofa in nothing but a formal shirt, an undershirt and your bra, your lacy panties doing little to protect your skin from the cold bite of the leather. You grabbed your disinfectant gel from your pouch and poured a dollop on your palm. After that you passed a wet wipe on your hands, carefully inspecting the underside of each nail. Once you were satisfied, you neared the bin by the door and got rid of the used wipe.

You sat back on the sofa and bit your lip, hesitating before moving to the next step. You still forced yourself to ignore your pouch, focusing on cupping your crotch and staring at the back of Yoongi's head. His place smelled amazing, something like patchouli and lavender and amber and pine. It was very male. Sometimes you could even catch a whiff of scotch.

You were wet.

It felt uncomfortable and somehow disappointing that he was there but he hadn't yet looked for you. Uncertainty made you desperate and eager for confirmation on his side. Maybe that's why you were here, acting like this.

The moment your finger slipped against your clit you huffed out a heavy breath, trying to keep quiet and making sure that Yoongi couldn't hear you quite right yet.

You did it again, trying to arouse yourself fully, until the wetness became unbearable. Not only it needed to feel wet, but to sound like it too. It took little, especially considering that you had accidentally deprived yourself because of a combination of work and stress and waiting for Yoongi. On the brink of sanity, you slipped your panties to the side, the sound of typing stopping for a second, which had you stopping your finger with the tip hovering at your entrance.

Yoongi started typing again, slow but completely absorbed in his work. You pushed your finger in, your mouth opening in a breathy sob, which Yoongi didn't hear — or that maybe he ignored.

Crooking your finger, you teased your g-spot, immediately flinching as you realised how it felt almost too good. The sofa creaked underneath you.

At his desk, Yoongi was going on with his work, completely oblivious of the misbehaving happening on his couch, however he almost started thinking of working from home.

Oh, so you'll be in the same house as Kitten, with a bed, a sofa and a bathtub, and you're gonna lock yourself in the studio and ignore her. Yeah, right. He thought.

Therefore, on with his work.

In the meantime you had surreptitiously taken off your panties, your legs still open just barely enough to fit your wrist. The process had been an exercise in control, since the leather seemed to have glued to your naked backside, which made it creak at every single inch of skin trying to part from the surface. Your hand was now free to roam on your pubis, cupping the skin and parting the labia, dragging two fingers along the slit, wetting them properly before inserting them. This time you did moan a short staccato sound, it lasted maybe half a second before you regained control of your vocal cords.

Yoongi's ears immediately picked that up, however he deemed the sound a sign of impatience or tiredness and dismissed it altogether.

Licking your lower lip, almost expecting him to turn around, you waited a couple more seconds before moving your fingers inside, crooking them. You bent forward at the precision with which you managed to find your sweet spot, the seated position simplifying the operation. Your mouth parted in a silent cry and your hips buckled, once more making the sofa crackle underneath you.

Yoongi started getting suspicious: he knew you had something going on, but he decided against asking. Ignorance is bliss.

He went on with his work.

You started getting seriously upset at his lack of recognition. With insufference and discontent coursing through your veins, you fished out a smaller pouch from your bag, quickly undoing the strings with your clean fingers. You extracted one of your favourite gifts to yourself, a small vibrator, a rather practical one you had taken from your bedside before you came to see him. You were almost sorry it was a pretty quiet one. You switched it on, enjoying the light buzzing it emitted. It was like listening to a mosquito fly around your ears. You seriously doubted Yoongi could hear it.

You placed it on your mound, without even letting it close to your folds or your clit. You teased the outline of your intimate parts, gently drawing the lines of your labia. You were very careful when you reached your clit, still a whimper escaped your lips.

Yoongi placed it immediately. He could recognise that sound instinctively. Usually it was connected to his tongue curling around your clit when he started eating you out. It was the first-lick whimper. The other circumstance was when he slid inside you particularly good, with that smooth, all-in-in-one-go kind of thrust. You were probably touching yourself.

He didn't know what to do with that information. He wanted to turn around and look at you, of course, but he thought that if he ignored you, you would probably get louder, needier and messier, and he was all in for that.

In the meantime you had started drawing circles on your clit, your breathing erratic and your spare hand going up to cup your breast. Your eyes were still glued to the dark mass of hair emerging from the chair right before you. "Yoongi." You called.

"Almost done, baby." He replied. He wanted to smash his head against the table. No man in his right state of mind would do this. He wasn't a genius. He was a masochistic fool and the worst part of it all was how disgustingly lucid he was in his reasoning. How he was trying to get you so desperate that you would scream and beg for his attention.

You were fuming: you turned the power of the toy to the loudest setting you had, the buzz now propagating in the room, your cunt so slick it was almost too loud for your taste.

"Yoongi, please." You cried out, your juices dripping on his sofa. And then you snapped, your whole body bending forward as you moaned "so good, Yoongi", your body too weak to remove the vibrator from your overstimulated nerve endings, your orgasm too sudden and overwhelming.

Still, no sign from Yoongi. The back of his chair was the first thing you noticed as soon as you recovered from your small black-out.

You switched off the toy, laying it on your thigh as you laid back against the back of the couch. "Yoongi." You called again, upset by his indifference.

"Mh." He acknowledged. That was suspicious. Quietly you parted from the sofa, kneeling down and starting to crawl towards him, not entirely trusting your legs to not give out beneath you; however your crawling had a limping pattern, your soaked hand close to your chest, clutching the toy in your palm.

You were perfectly quiet as you closed up on him, hiding behind the back of his chair as you listened. He was making a noise similar to a low purr, groaning under his breath. Your eyes closed as you listened to him carefully. You knew that purring moan, the rushed pattern of breaths. You moved to the side of his chair, peeking at his lap.

He was touching himself, his other hand combing his hair back and moving down the side of his neck, lingering on his chest. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, his hips jerking up just a fraction of an inch with the tiniest thrusts. His hand looked glossy with spit and precum as he dragged it roughly from base to tip, where he gave two rolls of his wrist before heading down again.

It was his technique, milking upwards, double roll the palm around the tip and back downwards. It was the way he used to do it before you came around. Since then he had slowly grown accustomed to finishing by thrusting up into his fist, usually laying on his belly before cumming on your navel or kneeling, straddling your waist and spilling on your chest. He loved pressing his face between your boobs when he touched himself hovering over you, but he also enjoyed the view when kneeling over you.

Thinking of you like that had his lips parting in a slow, heavy breath that got you even wetter.

"Yoongi." You whispered delicately.

He didn't even get scared, he just opened his eyes and smirked. "You done with your little scene on my sofa?"

Cocking an eyebrow you sat on the balls of your feet, observing him. "Maybe I should go back home, where I can comfortably make myself cum on my plush bed without judgy, undeserving people around." You said with a petty tone.

He looked taken aback by your comment. "I had told you to stay put, still and quiet."

"Buy yourself a doll and she can do that for you. I've been staying put, still and quiet all week. I can assure you it's pretty boring." You reprimanded him, a bit upset.

"Are you horny?" He asked, slowing down his motion.

"I was." You clicked your tongue, catching his hand mid-stroke. "You lost your chance."

He chuckled mischievously. "You've had just one. You need minimum another." He ripped his hand from your grasp and started moving again.

"You were busy. How come you're jerking off instead of doing your fact check?" You asked, snarling a little.

"I finished my fact check but I didn't want to interrupt you. I reckoned I could use your little solo for selfish purposes." He said, groaning a bit as his slowed down movement reached a sensitive spot.

You wanted your mouth on him. You were ready to make him pay for it.

He stopped touching himself and moved his hand to your mouth to draw the line of your lips. You immediately opened up, slipping your tongue out to lick at his finger.

"Kitten." He breathed out.

You ignored his plea and sucked at his finger. His strong, slender, beautiful finger. He was enraptured by your expression: eyes closed, lips puckered around his knuckle. You looked peaceful. And beautiful. And well, erotic.

"Kitten, love." He murmured, turning his chair slightly, enough so that you could be more comfortable in your position.

You were finally facing his lap, his cock laying in front of you, covered in slick, so thick and delicious. He wasn't that long, but it balanced his body beautifully, the thickness and modest length making it the best dick you had ever taken in your mouth, which obviously made you twice as willing to suck him. All the time — not like frequency mattered.

With a bit of resistance on your behalf, he pushed his finger out of your mouth. "Are you that in love with my hands, Kitten?"

You pouted. "Tell me one good reason to take it away from me."

"I thought you'd like my cock better." He said, honest.

You frowned. "As if you deserved to get some after making me cum all alone, while you took advantage of my loudness."

“Are you angry at me, Kitten?” He asked. He knew it was a bastard move when he started it, but he hadn't thought it would affect you this much.

“A bit.” You admitted.

It was sort of hilarious to have this conversation while you were naked from your waist down, a bullet vibrator in hand and his erection laying out of his pants.

“Why are you angry at me?” He asked, being absolutely neutral about his state of undress. Unfortunately you weren’t an ounce as neutral as him.

You dragged the back of your hand up his calf, your knuckles grazing the soft stubble of his legs.

“I have been unfair to you, haven’t I?” He asked, caressing your head with his clean hand, tipping your chin upward. “I’m sorry, Kitten.” He said, holding your gaze. “I’ve missed you too, love.” He traced your lips. “I’ve missed making love to you.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” Your hand reached his crotch, scratching his thighs through the fabric of his trousers. “I’ve been wanting you all week, but i didn’t want to bother you. I kept reminding myself that you were busy, that I just needed to last a few days until it was the weekend and you could be all mine.” You bent down and kissed his knee. “But it took a toll on me, not hearing from you. Not having you near.” You pressed your face to his lower inner thigh. “You didn’t even say you love me.” You mumbled under your breath, feeling a knot in your throat.

“Oh, ____, love.” He bent down, trying to drag your face away from his knee, keeping you from hiding yourself. “I love you, ____. I love you, Kitten.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t tell remind you.” He cupped your jaw and pressed your mouth to his. “I love you, Kitten. I’ll tell you as many times as you need it, baby.”

“I love you too, Yoongi.” You murmured against his lips. “I’m sorry for being like this.” You said. It was a flashback to all the times you had to beg your ex to declare his feelings to you, to all the times you had had to ask him to love you.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Kitten. Absolutely nothing, my love.” He whispered close to you face. “I’m not your ex, baby. I’m here for you.” He kept stroking your cheek. “If we keep going here we’re gonna make a mess, Kitten.”

“Is there any reason why we shouldn’t?” You asked, quiet and mischievous.

“I usually meet the guys here to record demos.” He objected.

You frowned. "It's not like I'm going to cause irreversible damage."

He pouted and nodded. Fair enough. “So…"

"Yoongi, please, I need to feel you in my mouth." You whined, biting your lower lip.

He chuckled, sitting upright. "You sure, Kitten?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, now stand up and take off your trousers please." You said, tugging at the fabric.

He snickered and pushed his chair back enough to stand in front of you and roll down his slacks. He sat closer to the edge of the chair and you tugged at the hem, finally removing his trousers completely. Now you were free to make him open wide and kneel between his legs.

You suckled the skin of his inner thigh, your hands skimming his calves. At the moment, your toy was laying between your thighs, switched off as you waited for the best moment to bring it into the picture. "Do you want me?" You asked, looking at him from under your eyelashes, batting them slowly, your lips curled up in a cute pout.

"Of course I do, Kitten. I'm so hard for you baby." He moaned, stroking himself. He lowered the tip so that it was closer to your lips.

"Can I?" You murmured, almost desperate.

"Yes, Kitten. It's yours, love, you know it." He said gently, longing for you so ardently and so composedly.

You licked his slit with delicate manners. You looked like the elegant cat you had reminded him from day one. And then your lips wrapped up around him, sucking his bulbous head into your mouth, your cheeks wrapping so tight around him with the pressure of your sucking.

"Fuuuuck, Kitten, that's amazing, love. ____, you're gonna make me cum."

Grinning like the devil, you took the chance to swallow him almost entirely, leaving only an inch out, and making him roar with pleasure. "Yes, yes. That's one hell of a mouth, Kitten. That's so fucking perfect, ____. I fucking love you so fucking much, babe." You loved when he started to swear during sex, it turned you on in a manner you couldn't quite understand.

When you felt him start to pulsate in your mouth you pressed two fingers at the base and pulled him out.

"You good, Kitten?" He asked, panting, trying not to cry at the vulnerable situation you'd left him in. He was on the very edge, one more second and he could have cum. But he didn't press you, you just came up for air.

Little did he know it was absolutely intentional. And you intended to do it again. You played a poker face. "Yes, I'm good, why?"

"Just checking on you." He explained, stroking himself at the base.

This couldn't do. You caught his wrist gently, blocking it. "Lemme take care of it all, babe." You licked his tip seducingly. "You know I won't leave you hanging."

He smiled and threw his head back. "I am at your mercy, ____."

He had all the power in the world when he spoke your name. You eagerly returned to your ministration, this time blocking his palm on his tight, underneath yours, while his other hand kept toying with his neck and chest. Not that you noticed: you were too eager bobbing your head on his length, focusing on the lewd moans he emitted, on the swear words he growled against the headrest of his chair, where he was currently pressing the side of his face.

"Kitten." He whined, almost endearing in the delicate inflection of his voice.

He was going to cum. You pulled him out as fast as you could, quickly heading to his underside to lay the softest kisses of affection.

"Kitten." He growled, but this time it was no joke. He was getting worked up. A bit angry.

"What?"

"Stop teasing."

"Me! Teasing! How could I? My priority is my boyfriend, Yoongi, and his well-being”. You grinned, delivering a long lick from the base to his tip. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Kitten, I swear, if you’re edging me I’m going to make you pay for it.” He growled, fighting your grip on his hand.

You gripped his wrist harder. “This can go two ways, Yoongi. You let me do my thing on my terms, or I’m going to leave right in this second and go back home by myself tonight. Pick.” You used a tone so calm it sounded like the most sensual of threats.

He twisted his wrist gently, looking into your eyes, and lacing his fingers with yours, moving your joined hands to the armrest. With the other hand he gripped the edge of the chair behind his head. “Do your thing, Kitty cat.”

Smiling lasciviously, you placed open mouthed kisses to his inner thigh, moving from the left to the right side. You lifted your hand, previously on his lap, letting the edge of your nail draw a thin line from his hip to his knee to his ankle, where it met his sock. You were almost tempted to take it off and tease him there. Why not? You had the wipes to clean it afterward… Fuck it.

You caressed his ankle, teasing it with your nails.

“Kitten, that feels very good, love.” He moaned, squeezing your hand in his. “Want me to let go of your hand?” He asked.

“Maybe later.” You whispered, leaving sucking kisses at the base of his shaft. You blindly took off his sock. “Are you cold, baby?” You murmured softly.

“No, I’m shivering because it’s so good, love.” He praised you. “You are amazing, Kitten. Thank you so much for this, babe.”

You parted from his skin. “No need to thank me, Yoongles.” You licked his length. “I do it because I like it. Because it’s so good.” With your spare hand you tickled the underside of his foot, which had him tensing the muscles there, his whole leg jumping, trying to escape your sweet torture. “Too much?”

“Just… unexpected. Sensitive.” He hissed.

You removed your teasing fingernails.

“It’s– No, I liked it.” He clarified, his pretty face scrunched in a confused expression.

You smiled darkly. “I was thinking of this…” You placed your toy under his foot, switching it on on the lowest setting.

“Kitten. Fuck. Shit.” He growled. “What the hell!” He pressed his head against the back of the seat.

“Too much?” You asked, distancing it from his skin.

"No, good. God, Kitten. Just, please, your mouth." He begged.

You kissed his tip and swallowed him.

His back arched and his lips parted in a gasp. "Yes, love. Oh god."

The slight buzzing moved up towards his calf as you absentmindedly followed the outline of his leg. You were completely absorbed in pleasuring him with your mouth, squeezing him with your lips and tongue and stroking him with the tender skin of your cheeks.

"Please." He moaned, struggling under your assault. "Love you." He whined. "Let me." He was so hopeless, his broken thoughts exiting his mouth unfiltered.

You pulled him out, taking a deep breath, opening your eyes to look at him. "You look so pretty, Yoongi. You look so fucking high, babe.”

“Please,” he breathed, trying to grind up into your mouth.

“Come on, wait for me, Yoongi. I’m not done with you yet, baby.” You cooed, bringing the vibrator up to the inside of his knee, which made his leg start bouncing. Ever so gently, you brought the head of the bullet even closer to his inner thigh, making him swear under his breath. “I feel so good making you look like this,” you groaned, kissing his navel. “I know right now your head is so empty you’re only thinking about me. No drama going on inside your pretty head when I’m giving you head this good. ”

“Kitten, for the love of God.”

Just when you had reached his crotch with your toy-accidentally-turned-instrument-of-torture, you started again on the other side, from his knee. His hand was gripping yours viciously, his strong fingers constricting your knuckles with so much pressure you worried about him getting cramps right when you wanted him to feel only pleasure coursing through his body.

“I am begging you, Kitten. I ain’t too proud, please.” He howled, as you saw a glistening pearl of precum blossom on his slit. You immediately caught it with your tongue, using the occasion to suck his tip.

“Such a good boy. Lemme take care of you.” Your head lowered on him once more, this time not sparing an inch of him. Just as he quieted down from the deep moan he had just released, you moved the vibrator to the tender skin of his testicles, placing it there without pressure, which made the stimulation even more intense.

He growled your name. It was the most virile thing you had ever heard. You were ready to commit murder to hear him say it like that everyday for the rest of your life. The hand once tightly gripping the back of his chair was now hanging midair, as if ready to touch you. He caressed his sweaty fringe, combing his hair back and deciding on gripping the armrest instead of the back. You slipped him out once more and removed the vibrator.

He opened his eyes with the most pitiful expression he had ever made. “Kitten.”

“I know, baby, I just need to know if you want to cum in my mouth or if you have anything else in mind.” You said, tracing small circles with your thumb on the back of his hand.

He noticed that you were still wearing your nice shirt from work. “Chest.” He murmured.

You grinned. You had never allowed any man to do that to you. You hated the idea of it, but when you did it with Yoongi for the first time you just saw him lose his mind at it, stare at you in admiration, like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, and you just decided that the look on his face was a great prize for a relatively small sacrifice. Little did you know you would come to like it, the warm, sudden feeling of his semen sprinkling your naked skin, rolling down gently in the most erotic sort of massage you could ever dream of. Quickly, you let go of Yoongi’s hand, offering him the vibrator. “Hold it for me, baby?”

He simply nodded with a confused pout, his brain so fucked out that you giggled at how cute he looked. You undid a few buttons of your shirt to your stomach, then you stood up and took off your undershirt, slipping the thin straps off your arms through the hem of each sleeve and dragging the lower hem down from your waist, until you stepped out of it like a skirt. Yoongi looked a bit more lucid as you undid the clasps of your bra and removed the straps just like those of your undershirt, gripping the front of the bra and pulling it off from the opening of your shirt. Covered only in your white work shirt, you regained your vibrator from Yoongi’s obedient hand and joined your hand with his once more.

“Open it nice, I don’t wanna mess up the shirt.” He said, ever the caring, attentive one.

You slipped the shoulders off, the fabric slipping under your breasts and supporting them like some sort of a corset.

“Like this?” You asked.

He nodded. “Will you let me this time, please?” He said, his voice so fragile and broken that if you hadn’t already decided, he would have convinced you to offer him relief.

You let your actions speak. You started working the first few inches of his shaft, gently toying with the vibrator at the base, where his cock met his balls. His moaning soon became desperate, so incoherent that you doubted having one of the most talented rappers and songwriters in front of you. He looked like he didn’t know a word, like the best he could do were baby gurgles.

When you felt him begin to pulsate, you let him take the lead a little, choosing how deep he needed to go and how long he could keep going. You started teasing the underside of his cock with the side of the vibrator, running up and down the thick tendon there. “Kitten, I’m close.” He warned with a timbre so husky it almost scared you

You started going a bit faster with the up and down pattern of the toy. Your eyes were fixed on him when he started slowly moving his hips toward the edge of the chair with weak thrusts. He started opening and closing his mouth, gaping. His short groans became more frequent, getting higher and higher, his knuckles going white with how hard he was gripping his armrest.

“Now.” He said, letting go of the armrest, using his hand to pull out of your mouth while you scooted closer, offering him the skin of you bosom. Your inner walls began pulsating as he pushed his tip against the skin of your nipple, rubbing it while at the same time he gently pushed your hand and the toy aside to stroke the base. He kept licking his lips, delivering those small thrusts into his fist just as you moved the tip of the vibrator to the head of his cock, teasing the frenulum. He groaned and began moving faster, his grunts getting quicker until he finally screamed your name.

The first shot was usually the messiest, the pressure so high it often reached your neck and chin, but this time it stayed on your breast, probably because Yoongi was pressing up into you and the toy. You moaned yourself when the vibrator touched your nipple, Yoongi laughing gently and calling your name when he realised you were paying for this too, that you too were vulnerable, and that probably you were turned on enough to let him eat you out and possibly cum inside you before you both headed to his place for a hot meal and a shower. Not necessarily in that order.

He spilled twice more on your breastbone and your other breast before he calmed down, reaching for the toy and switching it off. “Kitten. I swear to God, I’m gonna die because of you.” He panted, heavily gasping for air.

Still no trace of the mighty rapper, just one very normal, very lovely young man.

With a fingertip you collected a drop that was dangerously rolling down towards your shirt. “A good way to go.”

“It would be sort of embarrassing to explain.” He blushed, looking at you sucking at his cum on your fingertip. “Come here.” He murmured, patting his thighs. “Can you straddle me?” He asked.

“Why don’t we move to the sofa?” You asked.

He nodded, using your still joined hands to help you up on your feet. As you both stood up, you found yourself face to face, however his eyes moved downwards, to the wetness on your boobs. Bending his head, he cupped both with his palms, cradling the underside in his hands before pushing his lips to your nipple, his tongue lashing out to lick away at his release. Still needy, he moved to the other side, cleaning the other stain too.

Your knees wobbled. He smirked. “Sofa.” However when he reached the black leather piece he noticed the mess you had left behind. “You’d better fix it. Immediately.” He reprimanded.

You hang your head low between your shoulders, hiding from his scolding. You put your toy on top of its pouch, fishing a couple wet wipes to clean the cushion properly, as you bent at the waist to check for the results, you felt his hand smack your ass heavily. “You’re lucky it’s not suede or you’d be fucked by now.” He stood behind you and bent over your spine, adhering to your backside. “And not in the nice way.” He stood up again. “Stay like this, Kitten, don’t you dare move.”

You heard the sound of the lid of your wipes coming off, then the sound of fabric. You didn’t dare move. Yoongi was very likely to look for revenge now, and you already had a high price to pay. In your peripherals you noticed him rubbing the wet wipe all over your vibrator, cleaning it up.

You knew it was your turn now. You just had to hope he was feeling merciful. He bent over you. “Stay put and it’ll be okay, love.” He said with lethal kindness. You heard a gentle thud to the floor, shorty followed by another. “I am kneeling behind you, Kitten. Are you okay with me eating you out like this?”

He was so attentive: it felt like he had a list of all your triggers memorised in his mind; he was always so careful when it came to your potential traumas and insecurities. You weren’t new to receiving oral sex, however to you sometimes it felt very intimate and your worries kept you from freeing your mind and enjoying the experience fully.

“It’s okay.” You mewled.

“You can stop me anytime, love.” He said softly, kissing the back of your thighs, licking the thin stretch marks there. He loved all those small signs, the way they showed the tide of your skin, the way it made sense, the way you looked realer than anything he’s ever dreamed. He was in love with all your freckles and moles, wrinkles, the squishy part of your belly and waist and hips, the little hairs on your navel. He felt real when with you. He felt a little bit less surrounded by that artificial, polished world that looked like a simulation. He felt like he was allowed some small chance of normality, of reality with you. No skinny models with made-up personality, no fame or ego, just being two people facing each other, telling each other how it feels to be human.

Throughout all of his meditation he delivered small bites and kisses on the skin of your thighs and ass, tracing the outline of your labia, enjoying the plush softness.

You moaned out his name, pressing into him. “I know I’ve been bad, just… Please.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for.” He murmured, kissing your slit. “I deserved it.” He licked you slowly, from your mound to your entrance, the tip of his tongue digging in and collecting the wetness oozing out of you. “I neglected you.” He licked you again, nuzzling the raw skin of your inner labia with his lips. He kept his lips there, breathing softly through his mouth. “I love you, Kitten.” He kissed you there. “Love you so much, baby.” He murmured before you heard the buzz of the vibrator. He wasn’t toying around with you: he wrapped his arm around your leg, nuzzling the toy against your folds until he heard you whine. "Found it?" He asked, referring to your clit.

"Right there." You moaned.

He flattened his tongue against your folds, rolling it until they were spread wide, exposing your most tender nerves to the violent vibrations.

"Yoongi, I'm gonna cum." You whimpered, pressing yourself into him.

He wanted you to. He didn't care, couldn't care less of the amount of times you edged him earlier: he wanted to see you undone. He wished he could tell you, however he felt like it was more important for his mouth to stay on your cunt. He wanted you to know that you were allowed, that he wasn't going to deny you. He simply reached for your hand, placing his on top of yours on the cushion. Suddenly you started grinding your hips, riding his tongue, your free hand wrapping around his wrist, helping him place the bullet where you needed it. The fact that you were almost silent, holding your breath and gasping every time he spread your slick to the apex of your labia, so that the vibrator could slide more comfortably.

Your high hit you like a tide, your knees buckling underneath you, Yoongi's hand leaving yours so he could use his arm to stabilise you. Your hand on his wrist invited him to remove the toy, your position not safe and steady enough to allow any type of overstimulation, meanwhile his tongue battled with the contractions of your inner wall as he slipped it in just enough to stimulate the small muscle at the back, where you were always most responsive. He felt proud at knowing these small tricks, these little details that he had discovered with keen exploration and observation. Every body has their shortcuts to pleasure, though not all people are the same. He had learnt that some things that set his exes on fire to you were completely indifferent, meanwhile stuff that his exes refused could turn you into putty in his hands.

"Yoongi, that's okay.” You moaned, slipping away from him. He parted from your skin, gently pressing a kiss to your labia.

"Are you okay, Kitten?" He asked before running his hand to your breasts, cupping one softly, secretly searching for your heartbeat.

"I think I'm a little shook." You giggled. "It was… Very intense." You exhaled and laughed.

He kept kissing your thighs. You knew that that meant something. "I wanna try something but if it's too much we can stop here." He spoke delicately, his lips tickling your skin.

"Now I'm curious." You said, tired but mischievous still.

"Lemme show you." You heard him shuffle around a bit as he removed his sweater and placed it on the floor. He just hoped he wouldn't make a mess. From his kneeling position he shifted and sat on the oversized garment, thanking God that it wasn't as cold as he expected. He reclined his head on the seat of the sofa as your gaze met his.

"Am I going to ride your face?" You asked with a knowing smirk.

"Smart kitty." He said, mirroring your expression. "Knees on the cushion. Come on babe."

Shaking your head and smiling, you followed his order, your hands looking for support on the back of the sofa. "I'm afraid I'm gonna crush you." You said, even though you loved looking at him like this. His hair was a mess around him, his eyes so dark and intense that it felt like he was ready to drag you to hell and back with himself.

“It’s okay, you’re small. I can help you.” He said, placing his hands on your butt, squeezing. “I’m happy to help.” He grinned and you grinned back at him. You loved that both your brains shared the same perverted paths following the same dirty cues. “I wanna suck your clit, but I don’t know if it’ll work for you since you had the vibrator there.” He said, spreading small bites on your thighs.

“It’s okay. No need to make me cum.” You reasoned, openly refusing that a sexual experience can be successful only if culminating in an orgasm.

“I hate how you’re always ready to give up on your pleasure.” He said, getting argumentative. “I’m doing this to please you.”

“You can please me without making me cum.” You argued back. “It’s not like— Holy fuck!” You screamed, your shoulders giving out. His arm holding your ass up while his other hand held the tip of the vibrator against the underside of his tongue. “You’re fucking wicked.” You swore as your clit disappeared between his upper lip and his pink, filthy tongue. “Fuck Yoongi, you’re the best.”

He exhaled through his nose in some sort of a snicker, pushing on the small button to increase the vibration.

“Oh God. Yoongi— Fuck, like that.” You squealed as you felt him suck you in with wet, slurping noises. “Love.” You said, worry veining your voice. “I’m gonna make a mess.” You warned before raising your hips, parting from his mouth. “Wait.”

He removed the vibrator, opening and closing his mouth quickly before speaking to retrain his tongue muscles. “It’s okay.” He breathed, brushing his cheek against your thigh.

“You’re gonna get wet and smell like sex on the way back home.” You reminded him.

“I can rinse in the bathroom quickly, plus we’re driving by ourselves in the car.” He murmured. “We can if you want to.” He said, reassuringly.

“Get back in place then.” You teased, gently pressing yourself down on his pout and grinding coquettishly. He laughed with his mouth close, digging his fingers into your ass, which made you raise your hips with a small jump.

“I love you so fucking much, Kitten.” He murmured. “Don’t you dare forget that, ____.” He switched the vibrator on, all the way up. “Ready, kitty cat?”

“Bring it on, mister.”

He laughed and got to work. You were pretty sure that the moans you were emitting, joined with the wet, sucking sound that came from Yoongi’s tongue on your drenched clit would probably expose the two of you to the whole floor, and possibly more.

If you had been any more lucid you would have thought of poor mr. Kang guarding the building from the reception, but probably — hopefully — he was far enough not to hear a thing.

Yoongi sped up his game, willing and ready to bring you to the edge once more. He reduced the pressure on your clit, allowing the vibration to travel faster, with less resistance and more power. He shifted his grip from his plush upper lip to the edge of his front teeth, simply grazing your nub as he caressed it with his tongue.

“Yoongi. So sensitive.” You gasped through a muffled moan, your hand pressing against your mouth as you lowered your gaze. He was there, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of you, focusing on each movement, on the taste of you, on your sounds, your heat. Opening his eyes, he winked, realising that he had one last trick up his sleeve. He started brushing the vibrator up and down the underside of his tongue, the act mildly resembling a thrusting motion that had your hips undulating, your breath stopping in your throat.

The high built and built so that when it snapped, you didn’t even realise it, submerging you like a tide, like a small boat in a maelstrom: you felt each roll of your hips, each movement of the vibrator in that straight line underneath Yoongi’s tongue. The high was there, but you still hadn’t felt the peak. You were ready to give up when he slid the bullet off his tongue and into your entrance, pressing it against the tender spot of your vagina, rubbing it as his lips latched to your clit.

“Fuck. Cumming.” You whined before biting your palm. His hand smacked your ass, repeatedly, delivering four or five slaps as if spurring you into riding his face. When he felt your release spill, he stretched his tongue, trying to collect as much wetness as he could, using the bridge of his nose to tease your clit while his mouth was busy. You gushed two, maybe three times before you removed your hand from your mouth, squealing his name and a string of swear words, your hand reaching down, trying to slap his toy-holding hand from between your legs. He understood your gesture and parted from your cunt entirely, letting you recover from the experience while he shut the buzzing device.

“I need in, sweet thing.” He murmured, climbing up clumsily and a little bit helplessly. You rose to your knees, letting him sit on the cushion, helping him fit against your body. “I’m gonna slide in, Kitten. I just need in. Promise.” He kept his sentences short, both for his urgency and your almost shut down brain. Gripping himself steady, he slipped in flawlessly, your drenched walls welcoming his shape, clinging to it and making him swear with how tight you felt right after an orgasm.

“Kitten, so tight.” He groaned, his face falling forward, hiding in the crook of your shoulder. His hips thrusted up while his hands toyed with your breasts, sliding into the shirt you were still wearing. His whole face felt damp against your neck, and you didn’t know if it was sweat or your juices or his saliva as he began drawing a pattern of hickeys on the top swell of your boob. “I can’t hold on.”

“Cum inside, please.” You murmured into his ear, licking the shell and biting the lobe, your hand gently cradling his skull as you enjoyed his grunts and pants against your throat.

As he hammered into you from below, you felt him reaching your cervix, your inner contractions making him come undone, his hands gripping your waist and angrily pushing you onto his lap. The squelching, crude sound, mixed up with his deep groans and the smacking of skin made you close your eyes as you registered every detail. You would come back to this night, when he would be gone, and you would relive it entirely, from start to finish, from the loneliness and coldness of being alone on the sofa, to the anger and revenge of the armchair, to the selfless, devoted attentions you had received twice on the sofa again, and finally this boy-man, hiding against your chest as he vulnerably withered before you.

“God, Kitten.” He breathed out chuckling. “Thank you so much, love. You’re perfect.” He murmured, caressing your back.

“Thanks to you too.” You spoke softly.

“I’m sorry for the last one. I got carried away, I didn’t make you—”

“If you say the verb ‘cum’ I am going to slap your pretty cheeks.” You threatened weakly. “You can do that in a few hours. Wake me up at three am and make sweet love to me.” You propositioned. “Though if I fall asleep, I might sleep for the next ten hours with no chances of being woken up.”

“We need sleep. Both of us.” He hugged you, searching for your hand, twining your fingers together. “But first we need a shower. And we need to rinse before we leave.”

“Closest toilet?” You asked, groaning a little at the idea of getting up, cleaning yourself and all the rest.

“Two rooms away.” He mumbled, his eyes droopy, his head leaning into your shoulder. “Are you feeling okay about everything? I know I pushed it when I left you alone and when I went down on you.” He commented.

“I think we cleared up the air about you ignoring me. It reminded me of when I was with my ex, which is exactly the reason why I bought the toy. He wasn’t happy I used it, but he never said anything or kept me from searching for my own pleasure. Sure though, this was my first time using it with someone. I’ve had a few people before as I said, but it was never… this.” You said, referring to your whole situation with Yoongi.

“How did you feel about how I went down on you?” He asked, always sympathetic.

“I loved it. But that vibrating tongue thingie was sooo kinky. How the hell did you come up with that?” You complimented him.

He chuckled. “I wanted to suck you and I wanted it to be a bit hardcore. It tickled like hell though.” He kissed your cheek. “I didn’t know it would work for you. I had never tried it before.”

“The vibrator was a big ally tonight.”

“Definitely the highlight of the night.” He conceded.

You leaned down and sucked his lower lip in your mouth, releasing it with a snap. “I love tasting myself on your mouth.”

He cupped your cheek. “You were amazing on that chair, love.” He praised you, making sure that he gratified you for something that your previous significant other had awfully taken for granted. “I’ll never forget these two covered in me.” He said, bending down to kiss each of your breasts.

“Is your neck okay?” You asked, worried about the way he had reclined his neck before while you sat on his face. “Are you cold?”

“My neck is a bit sore, but some hot water and stretching will solve it. And yeah, I’m a bit cold but it’s okay. Let's fix this place, get dressed and head home, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

"Then get up, lazy cat." He teased, poking your sides.

"I'm sleeping on the couch tonight." You murmured, teasing him as you raised your hips, getting off him.

“You’re sleeping in my bed and we both know it.” He helped you on your feet.

Your lips bent downward as you nodded. “I hate it when you’re right.”

As you turned and bent to gather your wipes he stared at his cum dripping out of your hole, staining your thighs. “Such a shame you’re in love with me,” he replied. His hands gripped your hips, blocking you while his tongue moved between your folds, delivering tiny licks with the tip of his tongue before covering your labia in soft kisses. "All clean, Kitten." He murmured, caressing your naked legs.

"You're the worst." You teased, before his short nails caused goosebumps on your skin.

He stood up behind you. "Fuck, look at this mess." He said, looking at the sofa. "Do we have enough wipes?"

"Oh God."

"No one's gotta know." He commented, and once more you were partners in crime, hiding your thousandth mischief.

You headed for the chair, throwing him his underwear and trousers.

He caught them.

"Bottle of water?" You asked.

"Fridge." He pointed as he slid his boxers on.

You picked up your undershirt, glad that it was a cheap deal, and headed to the small fridge, where you found the water, opening the bottle and pressing your balled up garment against the rim, wetting the fabric.

Next you knelt by the sofa, getting to work.

Yoongi lit a scented candle on the low table, spraying some perfume with a certain desperate motion. "Jeongguk will know. He can smell anything."

You shook your head while you poured some more water on your improvised rag. "Dammit we fucked up."

"Shut up, it was your idea." He taunted you while he found his sweater on the floor, checking it quickly before putting it on with a shiver. "Freezing. Shit."

Once you deemed the damage mostly solved, you grabbed your wipes and used one to eliminate the traces of the water. Checking that no stain remained, you moved on to dressing yourself.

"Have you seen my bra?" You asked.

"No." He murmured, offended, just as you noticed a familiar frill coming out of his bag.

"Why is my bra in your bag?"

"Your bra is not in my bag."

You raised an eyebrow, hooking said frill with your finger and fishing the garment out of his personal tote. "What is this?"

"A fancy hat." He said, barely holding back a laugh.

"Oh, so you're gonna wear that later when we head home?" You asked as you pressed one cup onto his head, the other hanging from the side while you clasped it around his face.

He simply shook it off, bending to kiss your lips. "Don't wear it." He whispered on your mouth.

"I won't." You replied, kissing it once more before placing it back in his bag.

Wearing your panties and buttoning your shirt, you left a couple buttons undone for his viewing pleasure.

He fixed the last few things, opening your coat and helping you wear it.

He fixed his own jacket and caught hold of your waist, placing you in front of him and wrapping his scarf around your neck and face. He kissed your forehead sweetly.

"Get your shoes, I'll do a quick checkup."

While you exited the room, he noticed a small glimmering coming from the crevice between the two cushions. Pushing his fingers in, he managed to pinch the object and pull it out.

He snickered, placing his small treasure before his eyes. "You served well, soldier. You deserve a night of rest. I'll recharge you and keep you safe until next time."

"Who you talking to?" You asked from the corridor.

"Nothing." He placed the vibrator in his pocket. "Coming." He blew on the candle and closed the door.

———————————————

"Hyung, you look well-rested." Jimin greeted him the following morning as he entered the training room.

"I bet he does." Namjoon quipped.

"HE FUCKED KITTEN IN THE STUDIO!" Hoseok announced. "Sorry, couldn't hold it in, you know I can't handle secrets." He said with a sad face, looking at Namjoon.

"Good for him." Taehyung replied.

Jimin looked amused while Jin shook his head, “Is that a good reason to be late, Yoongi? We've been waiting fifteen minutes–"

"Hyung, you arrived two minutes ago." Taehyung replied quietly while Jin shouted, "Shame on you! The disrespect!"

Jeongguk neared Yoongi, patting his shoulder. "I'm sorry I rat you out. I came in last night because you weren't at the dorms. I didn't know. I accidentally said it to Namjoon, Hoseok heard, everyone knows." Guk shrinked in his shoulders. "Sorry." He chirped.

However it was still too early and Yoongi was still too fucked out to care. "Let's just kill this choreo. We better finish soon 'cause I've got Kitten home in my bed to go back to."

Namjoon smirked. "Let's get it."

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #bts imagine #bts headcanons #bangtan smut #bts scenario #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #min yoongi smut #yoongi scenario #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi reaction #yoongi one shot

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tomdiddlyumptious · 4 years ago

Text

T.H| My Mortal Enemy

Summary: you really dont wanna dance with him

Warnings: uhhh language per usual other then that idk-

A/n: I actually wanted to create a series with princess!reader but i wasnt sure.

A LOVE TRIANGLEEEEE OMFGGGGG prince!tom x princess!reader x timothee chalamet

“Y/n suck it up” “suck what up?” “Your stomach” you took a deep breath in and grunted when she pulled thhe strings of the corset.

“Fuck you” you sighed, holding onto your stomach while she laughed “you have to dance with him, theres no way around it” zendaya said, tying the strings together while you complained.

“Im not dancing with him! Ill just dance with timothee” you commented, wiping the sweat from your forehead before she grabbed the hoop skirt, telling you to step into it.

“You’re becoming queen and toms becoming king. There’s literally nothing you can fucking do” she muttered, picking it up and putting it on your hips, quickly closing it. “Im not happy with that”

“Honey please. Clearly” she glared at you, and you smacked your lips and raised your hands in the air, the detailed white skirt, small roses and small patterns, coming over your head and down ontop of the hoop skirt.

“Beautiful” she smiled, looking at you in the mirror while you stood there shoulders slumped. “I look like one of those creepy baby dolls”

She hit you in the back making you stand up straight “you wont get anywhere with that attitude, you go in there with confidence and your head held high. For tom..... i dont know what hes gonna do but dont let that ruin your mood”

“Thanks that means so much-“ “shut up” she ordered, eyeing you as you kept your lips sealed tight. She grabbed the heels and bended down on her knees, snatching your foot making you almost fall.

“You know i couldve had someone else doing this for me. You dont have to-“ “i need you to look your best, princess” she muttered, slipping the shoe on and doing the same with the other.

“Im not marrying that scoundrel, harrison” he said, his helpers helping him while harrison watched, laughing at him. “If you wont i will,” “shut up” “you dont even like her” “so?”

He stared at harrison with daggers, while harrison played with a smirk on his face. “It cant be that hard. Just a dance and youd never have to make contact again” timothee shrugged, swirling the ice in his glass.

“You dont know i feel towards her” tom whispered. “Well you obviously hate her, but shes the most beautiful woman in this palace, everyone thinks so!”

“Eh id rather marry zendaya” “zac will kick your ass” harrison said, “thats besides the point” “tom just be quiet” tim said and tom furrowed his eyebrows at him.

“You literally talk about her all the time. If you have such a problem let one of us dance with her” he offered. “Why would i do that?”

“Because you hate her!” They both shouted at him. “I-i dont hate her....i just have se negative feelings about her”

“Then why do you talk about her all the fuckin time?”

He didn’t know how to answer that. He didnt know if he loved you or hated you. It was whatever he felt in the moment.

And that left him with a sigh and a shrug “i dont know”

“You look absolutely stunning!” Zac said, his arm wrapped around zendaya while Had a smile in her face. “She thinks she looks like a doll, a creepy one”

“Welp that isnt gonna get you anywhere...” “exactly what i said!” “Can i please take off these heels?” You asked hopping on one foot to scratch the back of your ankle.

“Nooo! Come on!” Zendaya urged and you groaned, walking with them following behind you.

The ball room was.....beautiful. Fancy tables and chairs everywhere, the special table on the other end of the room for the king and queen.

The room was filled, cheers and glasses clanking, laughs leaving people lips. And then someone cleared there throat loudly, when you looked over it was your beloved mother, “the queen is here!”

She walked over, the room quiet as gasps left people lips, muttering things like “since when does y/n wear ball gowns” “she looks stunning” and things like that.

Her hand found yours and you did a small smile, letting her pull you wherever as zendaya and zac found thier table.

She pulled you to your fancy table. “Now y/n i need you to behave” “but maaaa!” “No excuses! Make everyone proud okay, i know that boy can be a handfull”

“How do i look?” He asked, running offly late. “I mean you arent trying to impress anyone-“ “you look great” tim cut harrison off, patting toms shoulder “so can we please leave”

And you sat there, bored, for once in your life time crossing a leg over the other and helping yourself with cherries while tom watched from afar, his mother walking him over.

“You look wonderful y/n, both of you do” she smiled, rubbing toms shoulder and looking at you. “Thank you ms. Holland”

“Please- call me niki. Were gonna be a family after all” she said, making tom roll his eyes and bite his lip, looking away then looking back. “Yeah we are” you smiled and like that it was only you two.

“I dont like you” “and what makes you think i do?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow while he crossed his arms “the least you can do is act like a gentleman, as far as anyone knows we are happy together” you said making him nod, sitting up and clearing his throat.

“Sooo.....wife” you cringed at his words but let him continue “how are we gonna do this?” You only shrugged “we can sleep in separate rooms or something” “sounds like a plan” he genuinely smiled at you, handing you another cherry as you squinted your eyes at him.

“I dont know if you poisoned this” you flicked it back at him, making him let out a small gasp before throwing it back “you arent worth my time, i would waste a dime trying to kill you” “i dont know if i should take that as a complement or not” your eyebrows furrowed and he sighed, looking away from you.

“You know, i dont know why they have such a problem with each other” harrison said to tim, currently at their own table, throwing grapes at one another and cracking jokes. “I dont think we’ll ever find out” he said in response, eating one of the grapes.

AnD iT WAs TiMe TO daNCE

The strong piano played, filling the halls as everyone watched you and tom.

You both maintained eye contact, his hand tight on the side of your waist as yours was tight on his shoulder, squeezing each others hand that was shared in each others.

“Im never doing this again” he whispered, basically nose to nose with you. “Do you think i want to?” You rolled your eyes. “I dont care if you want to! I just know im not doing this”

“Well grea-“ he dipped you and you almost gasped, frightened making tom silently chuckle before lifting you back up, now chest to chest.

“Your a fuck-face” you muttered. “You love it” he shrugged, “why are we doing this anyway”

“I dont know, why do you hate me?” He asked making your jaw drop. “Why do you hate me?!” You aggressively whispered.

“They look happy” zendaya said, zac, haz and tim all circled around the same table as they watched intently “ehhh” they all let out at the same time, in their own bubble, tim leaning back in the chair and Harrison slump with his legs open, zac resting his face on his knuckles as he silently blowed spit bubbles.

“I hate you because you hate me!” “I only hated you because you hated me!” “Bullshitttt” he bit his lip and you aggressively stomped on his foot with the edge of your heel.

He let out a small whimper and a fuck you making you have a smile on your face. “Dont cuss at me” “im pretty sure my foot is bleeding, fart face” “shut up” “but you literally called me a fuck face!”

“Shush!” He still whimpered in pain when he moved, “im sorry” you said, feeling guilty. He did a small smile “that isnt gonna make my foot better is it?”

“Well what the fuck do you want me to do! Kiss it?” “That wouldn’t be so bad” you groaned and looked away from him, to keep yourself from looking at him you easily pressed your head on his chest, making his breath hitch and his heart spead up, the piano relaxing a bit so you both moved slowly.

“Awwww” everyone said together making tom blush hard, your arms came up to circle his neck while his silently made its way to your waist. “Y/n why are you doing this?” He asked, whispering in your ear as you let out a small “i dont know”

“Well- can you n-not?" “Not what thomas?” “Be all bubbly with me!” You looked up at him with your eyebrow raised “im not being bubbly”

“Yes you are!” You sighed in response “but dont you feel better! Not everything has to be so negative” “well this is bluntly awkward” “well then stop making it awkward!”

“Yeah they are in love with each other” zac said, everyones eyebrows furrowed as they looked at you both, a different look and vibe coming from the both of you.

The piano slowly ended, you and tom panicked.

“Kiss me!” He ordered. “Why would i do that! We barely even get along!” “As far as they know we are a happy cuddle” he mocked your voice. “Im still not kissing you” “if you dont kiss me im gonna kiss you”

“Fine-“ “hurry up!” “You sound loke you really wanna kiss-“ before you could finish he pressed his lips on yours, his hand pulling you closer as his other hand came up to the side of your face, and SUPRISE you fucking kissed back!

Although you both you never would never admit it, you both loved the kiss.

Your lips where soft and to your suprise his lips werent chapped, his hands were gentle on your face as you also pulled him closer, your arms still circled around his neck.

Everyone at the tables jaw dropped, zendayas more but that didnt change the subject that you both kissed, and it looked like you both were gonna sit like that till end of time.

“No fucking way” haz muttered, looking at everyone else’s expressions and they were the same.

An audible noise came when you both pulled away. “That- that uh....wasnt s-so bad” he did a small awkward chuckle. “Yeah.... i uhhhhh”

“Uhhh” you both looked away from each other before tom pulled you back to your private table.

“Im still shocked” tim said, everyone agreeing as everyone else clapped for them. “So they just decided to love each other” zac shrugged, “yeah something like that”

After that whole thing was done, daya, tim, haz, and zac locked you all in toms bedroom for questions. “What is this about?” You asked, taking off your heels and getting undressed infront of everyone.

“You and tom” his eyebrows furrowed as he started to get undressed himself. “What about it?”

“Uhhh helllooo! Are we gonna act like that fucking kiss DIDNT happen?” Daya waved her hand in the air, before crossing her arms. You and tom silently looked at each other “it was his fault”

He smacked his lips and threw himself on his bed, throwing a tantrum, kicking air. “I thought we werent gonna tell anyone!”

“So you admit it!” Haz said, a wide smile on his face as he clapped his hands. “Zendaya the corset please” you said, she came over and undid it for you. “Can i have a shirt please?” You asked, looking back at tom and he nodded getting up, searching through his drawer.

“SINCE WHEN WERE YOU BOTH BUDDY BUDDY?” Tim said, and tom shrugged “I guess we just feel differently about each other”

“And it was because of that kiss wasn’t it?” Zac smiled while daya had a childish look on her face. “It’s happening! Give me my money!”

“You guys betted on us?” You asked, thanking tom when he handed you a shirt. “Wait wait wait wait, what the actual fuck. What in the fucks is going in here because this is confusing!” Haz said, getting a headache “i swear if that kiss never happened they would be ripping each others head off”

“Zendaya more loose please!” You said and she eyed you, “help her tom” she said, crossing her arms. “Uhhh...okay” he shrugged, walking over to loosen it more.

“HUH?” Everyone shouted, watching as he loosened it and then made you turn around to loosen the front. “Somethings not clicking-“ “no because this isnt adding up”

You put the shirt over your head and pulled the corset off of you under your shirt, he helped with the hoop skirt since you already took off the actual skirt.

“Im really confused” zac said, sighing as everyone who betted gave zendaya 100 bucks, including him.

“We all are, zac” tim muttered, crossing his arms as he watched you both communicate. “Tom when your done lets talk!”

And timothee and tom went outside of the room, tom leaning against the wall as he waited for him to speak. “Youre only doing this because we said something about her, right?”

“I dont know what you’re talking about, timothee” “yes you do. Youre only doing this because you know i have feelings for her” “I actually didnt know that but okay”

“Yes the fuck you did” tim pushed him, toms eyebrows furrowed as he pushed him back. “No i didnt” tim pushed him to the floor, a large thud heard making you all whip your heads to the door, hearing a punch made you walk slowly to the door.

“You knew i had feelings for her and you took her away from me, you dont even like her!” “What?” You whispered, looking over at zendaya before they all rushed to the door, ear hustling.

Tom tackled him to the ground, aggressive punches thrown at his face until tim rolled both of them over, now his turn. “I hate you! You were never there for her! Made her mad- sad- and everything that she doesnt fucking deserve!”

You decided it was time to come out, opening the door and telling them both to stop, Zac pulling tim off of tom and Harrison holding tom back.

Tom sent daggers at tim while tom did the same. “And now she likes you. Ive been working so fucking hard to win over her heart but you- you have to ruin everything” tim finished, pushing zac off of him before turning to you.

“I hope youre happy” he scoffed and walked passed, flipping tom off. “Wait!” You said, chasing after tim while tom looked back, jaw clenched as he watched you run off.

“Y/n leave me alone” “i just want to talk” you caught up to him, both of you power walking. “I never knew you had feelings for me timothee! If you would’ve told me sooner I would’ve never done the thing i did today” you said, looking at him while he still looked ahead, before he looked at you.

“Im not mad at you y/n. He-he knew that i had feelings for you and he took advantage of it, i-i” he sighed and you pulled him into a hug, “im sorry”

I dead ass dont know if i should do a part 2 or not. THIS IS WHY I SAID I WANTED TO MAKE A SERIES- IM SO MAD AT MYSELF-

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x black!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland blurb #timothee x reader

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iwaisa · 4 years ago

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request. Hi! I'm pretty new here and i really love your witing! (I hope to find time soon to binge your masterlist!) I saw you wanted some requests so i was wondering if maybe i could request a oneshot with akaashi x fem reader in which they are out at night and she's cold so he gives her his hoodie? They are best friends crushing on each other and maybe end up confessing? (I hope i requested this ok, i'm sorry if it's too specific 👉🏻👈🏻) Thank you so much!!💕 stay safe and have a good day/night!!✨ - @greywarenns

a/n. i had so much fun writing this ugh. i love akaashi with my whole ass heart. i hope you enjoy ! <3 also, this was my first time using text messages in my fics! it was super fun to make even if the characters might be a little ooc lol.

► now playing...

- pairing. akaashi x female reader

- genre. best friends to lovers

- warnings. there’s one failed confession + angst, but it’s a happy ending :))

- word count. 2.3k+

movie nights with akaashi weren’t uncommon, so why were you damn nervous?

almost every friday since your second year of junior high, the two of you continued the tradition of walking to your house after school and watching movie after movie until the two of you fell asleep on the couch in your living room.

however, as years went by, you began to change. and so did akaashi.

the first time you encountered him in your second year of junior high, you took note of his chubby prepubescent face and short black locks of hair that seemed to frame it perfectly.

at the time, you weren’t aware of how beautiful akaashi really was, but as you watched him grow, you came to the conclusion that you began to have a crush on the boy.

now, his face was no longer chubby. instead, it was thin, and his cheekbones were more prominent. his hair had grown out as well. he was taller, and because of volleyball, his muscles were a feat you couldn’t miss.

another thing that solidified your decision in liking the raven-haired boy were the mannerisms that akaashi portrayed.

whenever he was nervous before a test or a volleyball game, he would shake his leg in an attempt to get rid of the invasive negative thoughts that plagued his mind. in class, he would twirl his pencil in between his fingers, and occasionally tap the eraser end to his temple as if he was attempting to knock his thoughts onto the paper in front of him.

in the midst of your movie marathons, you would glance over to see akaashi wringing his fingers together, and over time you grew accustomed to the sudden sound of him cracking his knuckles.

you would be lying if you claimed you didn’t find these fidgets endearing. you found yourself carrying out these mannerisms as well, which did not go unnoticed by the black-haired male, who would tease you for copying him.

akaashi too kept note of your mannerisms. he watched with piqued interest as you paid more attention to what was going on outside of the classroom than inside, which always earned you a scolding from your teacher. during his games or practices, you would bite your lip in concentration, making akaashi smile.

“if you bite your lip too hard, it’ll start bleeding,” he teased. you swatted his hand away from your head as he reached down to ruffle your hair.

he loved your hair. in fact, he loved everything about you. akaashi was never one to fall for girls purely based on looks, but you seemed to have it all. you were gorgeous to him, and not to mention incredibly hilarious.

akaashi never had an interest in memes until the two of you exchanged numbers at the beginning of your friendship, leaving him confused when you texted a meme that had absolutely nothing to do with the current conversation. laying in his bed at an ungodly hour of the night, he found himself unable to stop his laughter as he read the same meme over and over. your voice on the other end of the phone was addicting, and he found himself wanting to call you whenever he could.

akaashi also found himself wishing to be around you during any free time he had. the two of you ate lunch together, studied together, had classes together, and you hung out around the gym to walk home together. hell, the two of you even had sleepovers every friday.

this was another thing akaashi grew to be extremely nervous about. if he told you how he felt, would you stop being friends with him? that would mean awkward classes, no more eating lunch together or studying, he wouldn’t see you around the gym anymore, and he would lose the only thing he was looking forward to at the end of each week.

the bell signaling the end of the day was the only thing that could snap him out of his intrusive thoughts. he began gathering his books and turned to where you were standing a few feet away, a fake frown plastered on your face.

“you were so deep in thought, keiji. even when i was throwing eraser bits at your head you still wouldn’t snap out of it,” you crossed your arms.

what you said was true, as he looked at his desk to see bits of pink rubber strewn across his desk.

he clicked his tongue, “you gotta clean that up now.”

you skipped past him towards the doorway, “nuh uh. we have to get home. that new movie you mentioned last month came out a few days ago, and i wanna watch it.” he sighed while chuckling, as he swiped the remainders of your pencil erasers into the palm of his hand, walking to the bin.

another thing akaashi loved about you was your impeccable memory. not only did you remember his birthday each year, but you remembered every minuscule detail about him. small things about how his favourite food is nanohana no karashiae, to something he had texted you months ago.

each birthday gift he received from you he kept in the bottom left drawer of his desk. one year, you remembered his favourite author, and ended up buying him a signed copy of a book that had just come out.

he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s read that book a total of seven times, just to reach the message at the back of the book that read, ‘happy birthday, keiji! love, f/n.’

akaashi loved your name. he loved the way it sounded as it rolled off your tongue when you first introduced yourself to him, and the way it remained in his head days and weeks and even months after.

although, he hated how quick he was to snap his head up whenever your name was called in class. he hated the uncomfortable feeling of his palms growing sweaty and his mouth becoming dry whenever he heard your laugh echo throughout the classroom.

most importantly, keiji akaashi hated how he couldn’t tell you how he felt. so, like any person with half a mind, he continued on as if nothing changed. he continued making weekly trips to your house, only to grow increasingly nervous whenever he would walk down your street.

he continued having these sleepovers with you, even though most of the night he would spend staring at the ceiling. he knew that if he turned his head even a tiny bit, he would come face to face with yours, which was something he would not be able to handle. occasionally, he would allow himself to drink in your sleeping appearance from across the couch. you looked so peaceful while in a deep slumber, which was quite the opposite of what akaashi was feeling at the moment.

little did either of you know, you both hated the same thing; not being able to confess to your crush of five years.

“ready to go?” akaashi called out to you as you fell into step with him. you hummed in agreement, and the two of you started down the path to your homes.

the two of you bid a temporary farewell before making your way to your separate streets. you didn’t waste any time in bursting through your front door and running to the bathroom to wash your face. you threw on some shorts and a t-shirt and continued to spiff up your living room while playing soft music from your phone.

your music was soon interrupted by a ding which signaled akaashi’s arrival. you took a deep breath in through your nose and exhaled through your mouth before turning your music off. you quickly ran to the front door to let him in.

“hey. come here often?” you lightly punched akaashi’s stomach as you chuckled at his god-awful pickup line.

“it’s my house, idiot.” he made his way into your house and slipped off his shoes.

“oh. guess i was too lost in your eyes to remember.” you smacked his shoulder as he laughed at your flustered expression.

“by the way, we ran out of popcorn and i’m craving ramune right now, so do you want to head to the store?” he smiled and nodded, following you to your front door.

even though it was still technically summer, it was pretty chilly. you were quick to rub your hands up and down your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up.

“that’s what you get for wearing shorts and a t-shirt,” akaashi sighed. you were about to retort, but you were quickly confused as akaashi began taking his jumper off.

“wear this,” he mumbled as he slipped it over your head. you giggled as you waved the extra-long sleeves around.

“come on, stop being childish,” he smiled.

he grabbed your wrist and began rolling the sleeve until your hand was freed. he continued to do so for the other sleeve, but his movements were slowed as he looked up to see you staring at him. he let his hand linger on yours for a moment, still keeping eye contact with you. neither of you said anything, but your eyes said it all. you watched as his gaze flickered down to your lips and you felt yourself leaning closer to him.

his thoughts of doubt became too suffocating for akaashi, and he quickly pulled away, leaving you confused and a little heartbroken.

“we gotta get back quickly to watch that movie,” akaashi mumbled as he cleared his throat. you nodded slowly, continuing to walk behind him.

the two of you grabbed your fair share of snacks from the convenience store and you hesitated before stepping outside to meet up with akaashi. were your feelings not reciprocated? is the rest of the night going to be this awkward?

the five minute walk back to your house seemed excruciatingly long. you continued to walk behind akaashi, and you watched as he typed away on his phone. you sighed louder than you meant to, earning a glance from akaashi.

he quickly slipped his phone into his pocket and slowed down to walk beside you. neither of you said anything until you walked into your house.

“i’m going to use the restroom,” akaashi excused himself, leaving you to set everything up. you slumped down onto the couch with a frown etched onto your face. you heart was breaking with each second akaashi kept giving you the silent treatment. you wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore.

“boo,” akaashi whispered into your ear, his lips grazing your skin. you jumped, earning a laugh from him.

“d-don’t do that,” you pouted. he sat on the seat next to you, eyes searching your face.

“if you keep frowning like that, you’re gonna get wrinkles,” he jested, making your heart ache more.

“how can i not frown,” you retorted.

you stood up to walk to the kitchen to begin popping the popcorn. you hoisted yourself up onto the counter and waited for the microwave to beep. you watched as akaashi entered the kitchen, his eyes looking at everything but you.

“y-you know...i didn’t mean to… uhm…” he trailed off, rubbing his temples. you tilted your head as you watched him pull his phone out of his pocket. he handed it to you, his eyes still glued to the floor.

“the chat explains everything...i can’t seem to find the words i want to say right now,” he stepped back, twiddling his fingers. you held your breath as you watched akaashi. he was nervous. why was he nervous?

you glanced at the phone and began reading the texts.

you snapped your head up to look at akaashi, who’s gaze was still fixed on the floor.

you placed his phone next to you and hopped off the counter, leaning down to look up at akaashi. he continued wringing his fingers as he made eye contact with you, a look of worry etched onto his face.

“do you really feel this way about me? did you really want to...kiss me?” you asked slowly. akaashi sighed and stopped wringing his hands, bringing them up to rest on your shoulders.

“yes, f/n. i’ve liked you for so long but...i never wanted this friendship to end. i’ve been dreading the day where i let my crush on you slip and you would never want to see me again, and it just broke my heart. i really hope this doesn’t affect anything,” he finished quietly.

“keiji...i...i really like you. i’ve liked you since junior high,” you smiled up at him, cupping his cheeks.

the two of you stood in comfortable silence as you grazed your thumbs over his cheekbones, letting out a sigh of relief.

“that’s good to hear,” he chuckled, with you humming in response. “will you let me do something?” you nodded.

you held your breath as akaashi moved his hands to rest on your hips and leaned down. you two tapped noses and chuckled, before he grazed your lips with his.

“i really like you, f/n.” he mumbled before pressing his lips to yours. it was a sweet, quick kiss. you felt yourself smile into it, and you moved your hands to cup the back of his head.

the two of you pulled away, and he softly bumped his forehead with yours. you chuckled, earning a smile from him.

“that was amazing, keiji...” you whispered.

he used one hand to pull you closer, and he reattached your lips. you hummed in surprise, and melted into the kiss. you moved your hands to tug at his hair, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. he nipped at your bottom lip before pulling back, keeping eye contact with you.

“the popcorn is burning,” he quipped.

you pulled out of his embrace and ran to the microwave, pulling the bag of burnt popcorn out. you turned around to watch akaashi laugh, and you felt your heart flutter.

“be my boyfriend?” you blurted out.

he stopped for a moment, before walking over to press a kiss to your temple. “yes please.”

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!!#keiji akaashi #akaashi

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moonknightly · 4 years ago

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and you keep me holding on : santiago “pope” garcia x reader (five)

Word Count: 2.9k

Excerpt: “Around the four minute mark, he watched as Nathan’s hand moved into frame to stroke her cheek. Santi was just about to turn away, hating the way he touched her so tenderly when he was using her as nothing more than the sick focus in this game he was playing...”

Warnings: Mentions of past sexual assault, blood, gun violence, mentions of death �� it’s a lot folks. Read cautiously.

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

OCTOBER 22ND — DAY SIX

Santi isn’t the one to break the news to her parents. He still has no idea what to say to them, or if he even can say anything to them without making himself sick, without breaking down completely. He isn’t used to feeling emotion like this, doesn’t know what he can handle and what will send him spiraling. The last of his mental stability isn’t something he is willing to risk losing right now.

He is, however, sitting in Cameron’s office when she makes the dreaded phone call, and he can hear her mother sob on the other line, and all he can do is watch, numbly so, as tears flood Cameron’s own eyes. Santi knows that she hasn’t had the time to process it for herself — her complete and utter focus has been on both him and this case, and on top of that she still has a department to run and her own family waiting for her at home.

She has to be tired.

Santi is so, so tired.

The night before is a blur. He remembers Jay telling him about the video, and then there’s nothing until this morning, when Jay shook him awake to tell him Cameron needed him down at the precinct. He still doesn’t know what for. There was no way she was expecting him to do any work for the case, that much he knew, and so he hadn’t bothered fixing his hair or changing out of his sweats.

He sits quietly on the small sofa in Cameron’s office with Jay sitting to his left, both staring at nothing in particular. Santi’s leg is bouncing again, his elbow perched on it and knuckles resting against his bottom lip. He still refuses to believe that she's gone. Santi is so, so sure that she's still alive, but no one else seems to think so. He can’t even begin to put into words how enraged it makes him, how much it makes him want to scream and break anything he can get his hands on.

But then again, he hasn’t seen the video. He hasn’t seen what everyone else had seen, and though he really doesn’t want to, he knows that he needs to, if only for some sense of twisted, morbid closure. To put it all to rest.

And besides that, he can’t just take their word for it when there’s a gnawing, pulling feeling in his stomach telling him that they’re all wrong. It isn’t hope, and it sure as hell isn’t faith, because Santi doesn’t have any faith left to give, not in the squad, not in himself, not even in the boys — they’d offered their help, but he has nothing to give them, no leads to go off of and he knows that’s his fault because he’s not trying hard enough but it’s easier to just blame everyone else.

But that’s something he would deal with later, because all he can focus on is that damn feeling in the pit of his stomach. It’s more than faith or hope, and he honestly doesn’t have a word for it — personal assurance, maybe? All he knows is that he’s so completely positive that she’s somewhere, still breathing, still living.

“Garcia,” Cameron gently begins, causing Santi’s eyes to immediately flicker over to her. She hesitates for a moment as she looks him over, taking in his hunched appearance that was so un-Santi like it doesn’t even look like him for a moment. “I’m so sorry, but I had to-”

“I wanna see the video,” Santi mumbles, not caring about what she had to say, his words slurring together as if he had been drowning himself in liquor the night before instead of lying passed out on the couch.

His words catch Cameron off guard, and her eyes widen, only slightly but enough for Santi to notice. She quickly averts her gaze to Jay as she searches for the right thing to say, but she doesn’t know how to answer him. When almost a full thirty seconds pass in silence, Jay decides that he has to be the one to break it, not able to stand it.

“Santi, I really don’t think that’s a good-”

“Look, I’m just gonna guess that you called me down here because the feds want to talk to me, right? And you know, they’re probably going to show it to me while they’re accusing me of murdering my wife again-”

Both Jay and Cameron flinch, but Santi doesn’t stop talking.

“-and I’d say that’s a pretty shitty way to see it for the first time, don’t you?”

Now it’s Jay’s turn to be stunned into silence. He tries his best to put himself into Santi’s shoes, tries to figure out what he would personally want if he ever found himself in a similar situation.

But he has no idea what he would want in this instance, because he doesn’t know how to even begin imagining something so awful. He would never wish this on his worst enemy, which he knows is a terrible cliche, and it's hard enough as her friend, he just can’t imagine this from her lover’s standpoint.

But he knows that Santi is right, and that his first time seeing the video shouldn’t be when he’s being interrogated by Barnes and Graves. He sighs gently, and closes his eyes slowly before nodding his head.

“Fine. But you’re not watching it alone.”

Santi only nods in return, knowing better than to argue. He knows he won’t be able to watch it on his own anyways.

He stands, somewhat shakily, and inhales deeply, trying to calm the nerves that seem to have made a permanent home in his stomach over the last six days. Cameron offers her seat to him, and he sits without question, already feeling like his knees will give out at any second. Jay comes to stand behind him, and he takes one last look at Santi before clicking on the correct file, regretting it the moment he watches Santi suck in a sharp breath, a small gasp falling from his lips at the image that’s now displayed on the screen.

Just like the photo from a few days before, she’s tied up and gagged and she looks so utterly terrified it makes Santi’s head spin. She looks weaker than before too, and she’s only wearing her underwear. A wave of nausea hits and Santi swallows hard, and Cameron just wants to get it over with, so she hits play.

Immediately, Nathan grabs her jaw, pushing her cheeks together, forcing her lips to purse. It makes Santi’s skin burn, seeing his hands on her like that. His first thought is that he wants to break the fucker’s fingers, one by one.

The longer the camera focuses on her face, the harder and harder her glare becomes, and Santi feels that disgusting pride swell in his chest at the brutal fire in her eyes. That's his girl, so stubborn, never the one to go down without a fight.

She violently shakes her head once before attempting to thrash her arms, but she doesn't get very far with that, the ropes not allowing her to move hardly at all.

“Say hi to your husband, baby,” Nathan snickers, his voice dripping with venom that only adds to the fire moving through Santi’s veins. Maybe it was also due to the fact that he called her “baby”, but he knows he shouldn’t be focusing on that.

Nathan pulls the gag from her lips, and she gasps for air, gritting her teeth together but otherwise staying silent. When she fails to speak, Nathan laughs again.

“Is someone nervous?”

“Fuck you.”

“Again? We just finished not too long ago, sweetheart.”

She stays quiet again. Santi feels like he’s going to vomit, but he pushes the feeling down. He’s gotten really good at doing that in the last six days — at pushing all of his feelings down and away and locking them behind thick walls where he wouldn’t have to face them.

He can feel Cameron’s worried eyes on him, but he ignores them, refusing to pull his attention away from the screen in front of him.

“You wanna tell him about that, huh baby? You wanna tell your husband what I did to you? What you let me do to you?”

This time, she flinches when Nathan says the word “husband”, almost subtle enough to where Santi wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t paying such close attention.

“I didn’t let you do anything.”

“Mm, you did put up a pretty good fight sweetheart. You really know how to tighten my pants, don’t you?”

Santi doesn’t want to see anymore, doesn't want to hear anymore, but he can’t stop watching. He has to see it for himself, he has to. He needs to.

The video continues on for a few minutes, Nathan going into sick detail with every heinous act he performed or otherwise forced her into, because he knew Santi would see the video and he knew what it would do to him. Santi feels closer to faint with each passing second.

Around the four minute mark, he watches as Nathan’s hand moves into frame to stroke her cheek. Santi is just about to turn away, hating the way he touched her so tenderly when he watches her snap her head to the right and in one swift, solid motion, she has Nathan’s hand in her mouth and she’s biting down. Hard.

Nathan’s screams echo through the speakers, and Santi finds himself smirking at the sound. She has a good grip on him for several seconds before he manages to pull away, a bloody bite mark on the back of his hand. His screaming continues, and Santi actually lets out a chuckle that only increases Cameron’s concern.

But then suddenly, Santi isn’t laughing anymore, because Nathan brings the end of a gun down onto her head and the wound in her eyebrow splits open again. She groans, only briefly before she regains her composure, refusing to show how much pain she’s actually in. She’s grinning, and Nathan’s cursing.

“You’re going to pay for that,” Nathan says, a sadistic edge to his voice that puts Santi on complete alert, sets him on edge.

She chuckles, her grin quickly turning into a smirk that Santiago instantly recognizes. It was the same smirk she wore when she was being stubborn or when she was challenging something.

Or in this case, someone.

“Goddammit,” Santi mutters the second he catches it, because he knows her well enough to know that she was about to open her mouth when she should have just kept it shut.

“Bring it. Can’t get any worse than having you on top of me, can it?”

Not a moment later, a single shot rings through the speakers, causing Santi to jump in his chair, though he knows he should have been prepared for it.

He can see her eyes widen, but she doesn’t scream. She doesn't make a single noise whatsoever. She only stares at some faraway spot, her eyes watering and her jaw falling slack as she fades away into a state of shock while Nathan laughs maliciously. He grabs her cheeks again and holds them tightly while he forces her to look into the camera.

“You have anything you want to say to Santiago now? Huh?” he yells, and before she can answer, Cameron bends down and clicks out of the video.

Santi’s head jerks to the side, eyebrows furrowing as he looks up at the lieutenant. “What are you-”

“That’s enough. She didn’t say anything.”

“But-”

“Santi,” Jay murmurs, shaking his head slowly. “It only had a few seconds left. You didn’t need to see anymore of it.”

Santi sits there for several seconds, staring at the computer screen as he tries to decipher the emotions running through his brain. He can’t figure out how to feel or how to even make himself feel it — he’s just numb. He can admit that his chest feels a little bit emptier than it had before he walked into the office, and there’s a hint of anger, but nothing compared to what he’s been feeling all week.

If the movies and the books were right, he should be screaming, crying. Begging and pleading. He should be going through the same emotions he’d experienced on the phone with his mother, he should be inconsolable. Losing his mind and throwing things.

But he doesn’t have the urge to do any of that. At the very least he thinks he should have been having a similar reaction Jay’s from the night before, but there’s just nothing.

There is, however, two things that he’s absolutely certain of.

“She didn’t need to speak to say it,” Santi mumbles quietly. “She said that she’s sorry. That she loves me.”

Cameron raises an eyebrow, her head tilting to the side. “What do you-”

“I could see it in her eyes. You’re with a person long enough and words just kind of become redundant.”

Cameron hesitates as tears spring to her eyes. It’s hard enough losing a friend, but she almost believes it’s even harder watching a friend deal with losing his wife. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone love someone like you two loved each othe-”

“Don’t,” he snaps, effectively cutting her off. “Not past tense. Don’t do that shit to me.”

She sighs. “You know what I mean.”

“She’s still alive.”

“Santi-”

“She is.”

Cameron stays silent, again at a loss for words. Santi’s been forced to grieve for his wife once already, through the hope of finding her alive, and just when he was getting to a place where he was able to find just a little bit of light in the sorrow, he has to grieve her death. He has to go through the five stages of grief all over again, though he had never really finished the cycle the first time around, hadn’t allowed himself to.

Denial was the first. It was textbook—

“We didn’t see where it hit,” he says, interrupting her thought process.

She hesitates, considering his words for a moment. “No, we didn’t. But-”

“So he could have shot her in the fuckin’ foot for all we know. She could still-”

“If she had been shot in the foot, it would hurt more than it would have immediately thrown her into shock-”

“Not necessarily-”

“-and even so, the infection’s gonna kill her. Nathan can’t take her to a hospital.”

Santi only scoffs, leaning back in the chair, trying his hardest to keep his anger at bay. Screaming, arguing won’t get him anywhere.

Jay licks his lips, bracing himself against the desk, leaning forward so he can get a better look at Santiago. “You know the odds are definitely not in her favor.”

“But the odds aren’t completely zero, are they?”

“It’s…” Jay starts, pausing, sighing, knowing Cameron isn’t going to like what he has to say. “It’s possible. We’ve certainly seen people survive worse than a gunshot to the foot.”

“But like Garcia said,” Cameron adds, clearly agitated as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “We didn’t see where the bullet hit. It could have hit anywhere from the chest down.”

“So we should stop searching for my wife because of a possibility rather than take the probability and run with it?”

Cameron again doesn’t have anything to say. She doesn’t know what to say. As a friend, she wants to say no, they shouldn’t stop looking. They should never stop looking.

But as a cop, she wants to say that there’s nothing else they can do, not until they have a substantial lead, something else to go off of. They can’t even trace the video and the email back to an IP address, for some reason that they still can’t quite figure out.

“Cameron,” Santi mumbles, voice gentle, calmer than it had been just seconds before. He blinks, and Cameron can’t tell if it’s to hold back his tears or if it’s to give himself a moment to breathe, to work up the courage to speak again.

“I’m not going to stop looking until there’s a body.”

Cameron’s breath hitches, and she forces herself to swallow the lump in her throat, to not show how his words hit her right in the gut and knocked the air from her lungs completely.

“I know,” she sighs finally, shaking her head slowly and averting her gaze. “But I still think you need to stay away from this. You’re going to drive yourself mad, Santiago. You’re loyal to a fault and it’s going to cost you your own health.”

“It’s not even about loyalty at this point.”

Cameron shifts her eyes back to Santi.

“It’s just about knowing.”

Santi hesitates, running a hand through his disheveled curls, down his face, the pressure in his chest growing the longer he sits there with his thoughts running wildly through his head.

“She’s still alive because I don’t know that she’s dead.”

#santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fic

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diyunho · 4 years ago

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Trapped” Part 5

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

4 Months Pregnant

“I need customized stickers that say Baby On Board for my purple Lamborghini and the other cars I drive,” The Joker growls at his own idea whilst sharing it with the person fulfilling his wacko trades: Franco Rossi, the leader of best underground supply chain in Gotham.

“When would you like them ready Mister J? After Y/N gives birth?”

“Nope! Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?...” Franco hesitantly inquiries about the sudden emergency since he can’t understand why The King of Gotham demands them so fast.

The Joker hates explaining yet certain people are obtuse thus they necessitate enlightenment.

“Y/N’s pregnant: when she gets in a car, the baby is also. Baby on board! Hello??” the father-to-be loses his temper.

Who can argue with The Joker’s logic? Nobody. It sort of makes sense anyway.

“Of course, Mister J. I’ll have them ready. If you drop by after 6pm, I’ll have your guns ready too.”

“Perfect!” the Joker hangs up among the ruckus coming from the office near the kitchen: sounds of shattered objects and yelling alert Richard aka Panda you’re at it again. He nonchalantly passes by in order to deliver the items to The Clown.

“Your drinks Mister J,” he gives one cup with Starbucks caramel latte to his boss and the other is placed on the table. Why does your boyfriend require 2 identical containers? It won’t take long to solve the mystery.

“Are the lids glued?”

Strange question but there’s a purpose in it.

“Yes sir. How is she doing?”

“She’s hormonal: breaking things makes her feel better which reminds me we have to hoard porcelain objects for her to wreck. NO glass!”

“Sure, I’ll tell the crew,” Richard leaves the kitchen while texting Frost. “Hulk needs more to smash,” he types the code name they gave you in the last weeks although The King knows about it: J’s the one that came up with it.

“Hey Pumpkin,” you are greeted as soon as you pop up from the office. “How’d it go?” he scrolls down on his phone and takes a sip of hot liquid.

“Ugghh!” a frustrated Y/N swings the yellow teddy bear The Joker stole for her on their first date, hitting his hand in the process. The drink flies near the fridge and splatters on the floor with minimal damage: only a tiny puddle instead of a disaster, that’s why the lids are glued.

Safety measure for The Queen’s unpredictability.

J grabs his reserve cup of coffee, paying attention now hence he dodges your renewed attack and keeps his coffee intact.

That’s why his drinks have the lids glued, in case you catch him off guard the second time it will result in negligible destruction.

It happened before.

“I don’t think so Princess,” The Joker strong grip on the container calms you a bit because you won’t be able to win this round. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” you pout and sit in his lap.

“I bet the baby is,” the secret weapon is unleashed: J discovered such a gem by accident and it works like a charm. How can Y/N say “no” if the baby is involved? She can’t.

A plate filled with a bunch of your favorite breakfast food is placed in front of you and strangely enough you’re instantly hungry.

“Extra bacon,” he purrs. “Plus chocolate dip and honey mustard for your pickled cherries. I added peanut butter olives as a bonus.”

In your defense, you’ve been having weird cravings lately.

You place the toy on the chair nearby and start eating, ogling a Joker texting back and forth with his business partners. He chews the morsel you just offered and shivers: waffle dipped in clam juice is disgusting. Maybe he should look at the food you shove in his mouth.

“Gross,” J washes the terrible taste with coffee and gets a kiss for encouragement, yet he’s aware of the connotations. Another kiss confirms it.

Let’s put it this way: besides the hormonal episodes and food demands, The Queen has had a fresh type of craving recently - The Joker kind.

More than usually.

That’s why he has to clear it up.

“I’m flattered for being the center of attention; we gotta keep in mind that contrary to the popular belief, I don’t have unlimited stamina, Pumpkin.”

You nod in agreement and unbutton his pants, then unzip them also.

“Y/N, pay attention!” J insists since you don’t give a damn about his woes. “Think about it as a two way street: The Joker Street and I Want To Break Things Street. Are you with me so far?” he double checks.

Why is he yapping so much??! I guess you should make an effort to comprehend: he’s even doodling patterns on his phone to emphasize the speech.

“When you get hormonal, Princess, let’s try and walk on the I Want To Break Things Street instead of The Joker Street, hm? The Joker Street is sometimes closed for repairs until further announcement.”

OK, OK, this is a lecture. Something about a Joker Street, he seems upset he doesn’t have one…?... Right?...

If you were him, you would be pissed Gotham didn’t name a street in your honor when you’re so important for the town.

Another peck on his neck, then your lips go down his collar bone.

“You’re not paying attention, are you?” J mutters when it’s clear his shirt won’t remain on his body for too long.

“I am,” you defend yourself.

“Oh yeah? What did I say then?”

“Ummm…” you try to piece together words among estrogen taking over. “No Joker Street?...”

“Bingo, that’s it Princess! No Joker Street, correct! Choose the other street, yes?”

This time he kisses you, excited his idea was well received when in fact, both parties are referring to unrelated concepts.

“Wait,” J dodges your touch, “Richard is calling.”

Because he’s on the phone ignoring Y/N, she is ensuring a nice surprise for later; concentrating to the maximum to avoid misspelling, the following message is sent to Franco Rossi from her cell:

“Make a landmark sign that says Joker Street.”

The King’s conversation is prolonged more than anticipated until he discerns you’re not wiggling: you feel asleep, softly snoring on his shoulder and he definitely can’t afford to wake you up.

The doctors said your body is trying to cope with the pregnancy the best way it can: if you doze off at random hours it means you ran out of fuel and you should rest. After cheating death and surviving the accident, the future mother is at high risk of serious complications which is why each day could lead to unforeseen problems.

The Joker rises from the chair holding you in his arms and after a few steps he realizes it’s difficult to walk: thanks to his unbuttoned and unzipped pants, they keep sliding lower and lower. There’s no way he will make it upstairs so maybe the sofa in the living room is the best option. He almost trips thus he begins to drag his feet on the carpet, the pants at knee level now.

“I’m reduced to a piece of meat,” J grumbles, finally making it to the couch and placing Y/N on it so she can have her power nap.

*************

6:02pm

You accompanied The King to a meeting with Seraphim, the best hacker/strategist J uses: they’ve been plotting for a while concerning D.A. Kevin Winchester. The politician is becoming a huge pain in the butt for Gotham’s underworld and something must be done; either annihilation or blackmail, it truly doesn’t matter since he’s bad for business. Due to a total lack of interest in the subject, you are exploring the surroundings quite angry The Joker dragged you here.

Luckily there’s stuff to do.

Bam! you punch the fragile glass sculpture and it splinters into a million pieces on the lavish marble floor.

Seraphim jumps at the noise, immediately recognizing his beloved possession:

“That’s…,” he gulps, appalled. “That’s a Vitriol!”

Yup, the one and only Degas Vitriol, the latest sensation taking the art universe by storm.

“She’s hormonal,” J sneers. “She breaks shit!”

“That’s valued at 150,000 dollars!” the hacker breaths in much needed oxygen regarding the atrocity unfolding at his hideout.

“So??!!” your boyfriend sucks on his teeth, irritated. “Serves you right for buying that asshole’s artsy fartsy crap!”

The Joker actually has 4 Vitriol masterpieces at the mansion yet you were strictly forbidden to destroy them, alas he gave you the office for your rampages.

You continue your exploration as they talk about God knows what until you perceive an alarming detail: Seraphim is literally screaming having a gun pointed at J.

You sneak behind him then in a split second you strike the pistol out of his hand and your fist lands on his temple with such brutality it knocks him out unconscious.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N???” The Clown hisses at your erratic behavior.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing??!!!” he repeats, annoyed.

“S-saving you…,” you stutter, confused on why J is mad. “He was yelling and…mmm, had a gun,” you wince in pain because your knuckles hurt from the impact.

“The guy’s half deaf and sometimes he raises his voice without noticing, or did you forget??!! Now I have to wait until he comes to his senses and that’s a waste of my time, Y/N!!! Seraphim wasn’t threatening me, he was showing me his newest collectible!!! I suppose someone with half a brain can’t acknowledge the mess they’ve created!!!”

A lot of accusations thrown your way still… the last sentence brings tears in your eyes.

“I…” you bite your lower lip. “…I don’t have half of brain…”

“Wanna bet??” The Joker bites more instead of leveling with your logic: you though he was in danger and took action. If it was a real emergency, yes, you would have been the hero; it’s not and apparently he can’t appreciate your fast intervention in these circumstances.

“Y-you’re stupid…” you whisper, frustrated. “You don’t understand anything…”

Here it is -- the cataclysmic event of the century: someone called The Joker stupid. He’s beyond outraged with nothing better to utter besides a very childish:

“You’re stupid!”

Y/N turns around and stomps out of the house leaving a trail of destruction outside: she slaps the bottled water out of The Shark’s hand, kicks Panda’s shin and snatches Frost’s donut basically inhaling the sweet treat.

“I want to go h-home!!” you shout and enter the first vehicle you see, slamming the door so hard the window on the passenger side cracks.

“Jesus…” Jonny mumbles and being the sensible man that he is you are offered the whole box of pastries he purchased for his family. He can acquire more, but there’s no way in hell he wants to endure Y/N in the state she’s in.

Gotta keep Hulk calm somehow…

**************

3 Hours Afterwards

You sulk when The Joker strolls in the master bathroom frantically searching the cabinets.

“Did you see my shaver?” he asks.

“Hm?”

“Did you see my shaver?”

“I…I wouldn’t know. I only have half a brain,” the surprisingly eloquent phrase queues J his woman is holding a grudge for his earlier statement. Why wouldn’t she? He was a complete jerk.

At least you didn’t catch on to the obvious: The King of Gotham doesn’t own a shaver; hair just grows on his head.

He glimpses at Y/N soaking in the bathtub with a kid’s book in her left hand and the right hand fingers sunk into a bowl filled with ice placed at the edge of the Jacuzzi. The Joker leans over and switches your book since it’s upside down.

You huff at the unwanted help and stare at the pictures expecting he’ll look for his shaver and disappear.

You’re not that fortunate today.

“Imagine my surprise when I drove the main alley and detected a sign that says The Joker Street,” he brings up the topic.

Franco Rossi was super-efficient …sadly you ordered the item before J ran his mouth at the hacker’s place, otherwise you wouldn’t care he wants a street with his name.

“You said no… no Joker Street,” you stammer. “Now you have one,” the bitter tone makes him roll his eyes: Y/N’s brain got what it could from his monologue, he should have known better than to make it complicated.

“Excellent…” The King starts rubbing your tummy, “… precisely what I was aiming for. I’m washing the baby, not you!” he underlines when you move farther from him.

You scrunch your face displeased but let him do it because it’s for the baby.

“I know what you’re doing,” Y/N gives him a cold gaze. “U-using the baby… I’m not stupid!”

Busted, The Joker thinks. The schemer in him won’t accept defeat though.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Yes you did!”

“You said it first!!!” he reckons, antagonized. “Therefore two stupid people put together gotta make up for a smart one!!’

“I… I don’t wanna make out…” you frown at his suggestion.

The Joker sighs, deciding not to correct the trajectory of your judgement; it sure sounds like an opportunity.

“Why not?”

“I’m tired and…and I h-hate you,” your heavy eyelids close.

“Both viable reasons, even if I have to admit you striking Seraphim like that got me quite worked up. He’s no small fry! I had to wait for one hour for him to recover; you got a mean punch, woman! The more I reflect on it, the hornier I get. Which reminds me, Pumpkin: guess what?... … … I’m hormonal too.”

No answer, Pumpkin’s out.

“Of course nobody gives a damn if I’m hormonal!” he complaints while grabbing you from the bathtub. You cling to him for a few moments prior to drifting back into your dreams.

“Thanks for getting me all wet,” J snarls at the cruel reality of having his favorite Prada suit ruined.

“You…you’re welcome…” his Queen replies in her sleep, somehow her mind clutching to reality amidst pure relaxation.

This is what two hormonal individuals are reduced to: one’s dozing off, the other is suffering in silence, although being the proud owner of the tiniest road in Gotham compensates for the mishap.

It’s a two way street.