#Had to send the first pair back and go up one size but omg they are so cute

[grumpyfaceurn]

@squishysoulmate look!

[schoenpepper]

Heartslabyul Heartaches: Clover

Intro: Heartslabyul is sick and tired of its own vice housewarden (except for Deuce, he really doesn't know what's going on).

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, pining

A/N: This almost took me out, I think Trey's gonna be on my ban list for a while. But I hope you like it, anon.

Masterlist

Oh. Oh that's...rather painful to watch, actually. What was it the kids said nowadays? Yikes?

Riddle thinks it's rather vomit inducing, if nothing else. The way you and Trey tiptoe around each other, somehow acting like an old married couple and a pair of first graders just experiencing puppy love at the same time. An impressive contradiction, if he were to be honest. He didn't think it could exist at first, but you and the green haired boy just happened to be living proof. He takes another sip of tea and sends another confused glare in your direction.

"This is so good! You're so talented, Trey." The way you put your hand on Trey's arm (Riddle would say subtly but it was not subtle at all) was so horribly flirtatious it almost makes Riddle spit out his tea. There was no rule on PDA in the Queen's rulebook, however, so he endures and stabs a strawberry with his fork instead of stabbing it through either of you. Trey blushes, hearts almost visibly forming in his eyes as he leans towards you with the plate of bite-sized tarts. "No, it was because you helped me make them that they taste so good."

Riddle's brows furrow in mild disgust.

"You should eat some too!" He watches numbly when you pick up a tart and hand feed it to his second in command. More blushing, more stuttering, but eventually, Trey manages to eat the thing with a giddy smile.

(May he collar Trey? Or you? Genuine question.)

The tea party wraps up and Trey is finally back to full working condition because of your absence (thank you for leaving). Riddle supervises the cleanup with Trey next to him, clipboard in hand. "So," Riddle sighs, "when will you be confessing to Y/N? I assume it must be soon, given your lack of propriety in a public space."

"Confessing? I don't see them that way."

He looks at Trey, both hands on his scepter because one half of him wants to use it to hit the man over the head and the other half wants to use it to hit the man in the stomach. Trey's face is a beautiful shade of 'lying lying liar who lies' pink, and he's avoiding Riddle's gaze with a sheepish grin. "Is that so?" Riddle asks dryly.

"There's...a lot of other people out there."

"What about it?"

"There's a lot of other people who can treat them better, love them better, than I can."

Riddle settles for whacking the scepter onto Trey's shoulder before leaving with a dignified huff. "Spineless, completely unworthy of the Queen of Hearts." He hears Trey laughing behind him.

Gross. Super gross.

"Yo, Trey, are you like, actually blushing and swooning and kicking your feet?" Cater laughs, watching Trey fumble to hide his phone. He'd already seen the image his friend had been staring at before, though, so it's not too hard to imagine why the other was acting like a schoolgirl (it's still stupid to watch).

"I am not."

Right. Cater doesn't have the mental capability to debate on whether or not Trey was giggling. Not when the words on his textbook are building a rollercoaster track in front of his eyes and setting up to ride it. "Whatevs. How did you get the answer for question 3?"

He looks up to see Trey sneaking a peek at his phone again.

"OMG, usually I'm the phone addict but this is like, insane." Cater dives over the table and steals the other man's phone, "You're staring at a text draft asking Y/N to hang out tomorrow? No, I don't think so, and send. There." He hands it back to Trey.

"What did you do that for?"

"So I can finally get my study buddy back, duh. It's like, literally painful to see you spending literal minutes just thinking on whether or not to invite Y/N to hang out. That's lame."

Trey sighs in exasperation. "So you did it for me."

"Obvi! Because I'm like, such a good friend."

Ace might throw up on the grass, or he might mistake his senpai's hair for it and throw up all over him. Fifty fifty, really. He watches you run across the field with Grim, passing a Spelldrive disc between the two of you as your laughter rang through the air. He glances at Trey to find him wistfully sighing like some medieval maiden.

When the disc comes hurtling in his direction because of a certain kitty cat, he finds himself embracing peace, and perhaps with his departure from this world, heaven would embrace him—

“Oh no! Trey senpai, are you okay?”

Ace opens his eyes again. He was pretty sure the disc was headed straight for his handsome face so…why is his toothbrush loving upperclassman now lying on a heap on the ground right in front of him?

Did he seriously dive in front of Ace to get injured? On purpose?

You run over worriedly and kneel over next to Trey, Ace watching on expressionlessly. A large red bump is swelling on his senior’s forehead, which you gently check with your hand. “I’m so sorry, I’ll help you get to the infirmary, okay?”

Ace swears he can see the slightest hint of a smirk on Trey’s face.

“Don’t you have history next period? I’ll help him,” Ace enjoys the panicked expression on the ‘patient’, but then he also sees your features morph into something like ‘don’t you dare take this away from me’, so he backs off. You…match each other’s freaks, apparently, so he takes a step back and grabs Grim from the field.

“Nya, why are you taking me from my hench human?!”

“Shh, your parents are flirting so I’ll take up babysitting duty,” Ace rolls his eyes, “They’re both pathetic.”

“Order. The first meeting shall now commence.”

Riddle strikes a wooden gavel (where did he get that?) and Deuce sits still because his confusion has yet to fade and really, he still has absolutely no idea why he, Ace, Riddle and Cater are sitting around a table with tea and snacks laid out in front of them. This couldn’t be a dorm meeting considering the rest of the dorm members, and even the vice house warden, are absent. “Uh, dorm leader,” Deuce speaks up nervously, “did Ace do something wrong again?”

“What? Why does it have to be me?!”

“It’s always you.”

“Lmao, y’all gotta calm down,” Cater laughs, “the topic of the day isn’t you or Ace. It’s Trey!”

Deuce blinks. “Is something wrong with Trey senpai?”

“He’s gross.”

“He’s cringe.”

“He’s a coward.”

The answers don’t actually answer his question, but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to say anything else. Riddle looks tired, Ace looks genuinely disgusted, and Cater is staring into the void with what he can only describe as an old man sigh. He’s not the smartest person to have ever existed, but he knows enough that he probably shouldn’t be saying anything else at the moment. His housewarden strikes the gavel again. “Attention, we have gathered here today in an attempt to brainstorm ideas. Does anyone know how we should get Trey and Y/N to finally get together?”

“Lock them in a closet 7 minutes in heaven style~”

“Slip truth serum into their drinks.”

“Y/N and Trey senpai like each other?”

The other three give Deuce an exasperated look.

…He probably should’ve kept his mouth shut.

Trey looks at his reflection in the mirror. Pristine, crisp—he needs to look perfect, if only for you. He makes his way to the entrance of the rose maze with a large bouquet of red roses in hand. It’s a bad idea. Really, you might not even show up. His friends and dormmates have good intentions, sure, but whoever said good intentions meant good results? Now he’d been wrangled in a pure white tuxedo and in the gazebo that laid in the middle of the maze is a spread of pastries and the most expensive tea they had in the kitchen. And he’s ready to finally, finally confess, instead of hiding away and going back to his imaginations. In his fantasies, you’d smile and hold his hand and laugh with him, and he…

If you don’t allow him to even be your friend anymore after this, would his fantasies suffice?

No.

But, if the impossible happens, and you like him too, then maybe his fantasies would come to life. Maybe one day, he’ll be waking up in your arms instead of waking up from dreaming about you. But as Riddle said, the possibility ceases to exist if he doesn’t take the steps to make it happen.

You arrive.

And like every other time he’d seen you and breathed you in, he’s stunned.

You’re just so beautiful, in a way that his mind struggles to describe.

(He loves you, he loves you, he loves you until it hurts, he loves you until it’s deadly, he’ll love you until time stops, until that love consumes him from the inside out, Trey Clover will love you until he forgets what love is and remembers only you and how you make his heart beat.)

You accept his flowers.

You accept his heart as he lays it bare in front of you.

“You’re, stop—stop using me as an armrest!”

“Ehh, Riddle if you’re so loud they’ll hear nya~”

“You can peek perfectly fine without pushing me down!”

“I can, but that’s not fun!”

Chenya looks through the bakery window to catch a glimpse of the blushing couple. Trey, flustered and proud as he introduces you to his parents, and you happily chatting with them, nodding along as you accepted the pastries they were stacking up in your arms. “Let me go, I need to go back home.” Riddle seethes quietly.

“Mya, it’s not like you wanna go home, so why don’t we stay and watch Trey fumble? It’s funny.”

The redhead purses his lips, hesitates, and eventually peeks into the window next to Chenya. “If we get caught, it’s your fault and I’m just a victim.”

[boxofbonesfic]

omg i would love a dark!Peter or a Ransom prompt 👀 it can just be an idea, or a specific scene or scenario, whatever strikes your fancy 💖

Ok! Ransom x plus size reader: college au, fwb. Ransom doesn't want to be seen with her cause she's fat and she's cool with it cause she's literally just here for the d while she gets her degree right? Ransom's an ass but that dick is bomb and no feelings are involved so perfect. But then Ransom gets addicted to the p and wants her all to himself, still on the dl tho. His changing feelings don't come out till she meets someone and breaks it off with Ransom. Reader doesn't think anything of it but Ransom COMPLETELY loses his mind and starts stalking her, blowing up her phone, etc. Not caring if everyone knows now. Reader is CONFUSED and MIFFED!

Title: Breaking

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 5,374

Summary: Ransom wasn’t eager to stake any sort of claim on you—until someone else does it first.

Warnings: College AU, Stalking, Kidnapping, Darkfic, Plus Size Reader, Manipulation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, MINORS DNI!

A/N: thank you so much for this lovely prompt! i really hope you enjoy this little ficlet. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

Ransom had found it kind of funny at first, when you’d stopped responding to his rather crassly worded “U up?” texts. It wasn’t until the third text in half as many weeks had gone completely unanswered that he’d tried calling instead—and found you had blocked him completely. 

What?

That wasn’t like you. Not like Ransom had taken time to really know you, but ghosting just didn’t seem like it belonged in your playbook.

“The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time. Please contact your service provider if you believe you have reached this message in error.”

It had taken a little finesse, Ransom laying the charm rather thickly on your friend in his business management class, the one whose name he could never remember. 

“She has a boyfriend,” she’d said, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger with a nervous giggle. “But I’m, um, single.”

Which brings him to now.

You weren’t the sort of girl he usually took out on dates, and, looking back on it, you’d picked it up rather quickly. Your requests to meet at parties or the bars his frat brothers regularly visited were answered with vague no’s. Or, more often than not, ignored outright until you stopped sending them. It wasn’t your fault—he had a reputation to think about. Though tonight, ironically, his reputation is the furthest thing from his mind. 

What is on his mind, is you. 

Ransom’s lip curls as he watches Isaac drape an arm across your shoulders, squeeing affectionately. He doesn’t know him well—they haven’t spoken much beyond the idle chit-chat around the keg. It turns his stomach, the thought that he’d finally realized just how much you meant to him, only to have this—this boy-scout steal you from right under his nose. Out from his fucking bed. 

Ransom isn’t used to coming in second place. It’s never happened before, losing something he actually wants. Isaac seems happy to be next to you, not embarrassed or hiding behind baseball caps and wide sunglasses. Not like Ransom. He’s angry—at you, a little, but mostly at himself. It’s not hard to recall how you felt underneath him, all soft skin, soft curves, and fuck. He hates himself for not savoring that last time more, for not knowing it was going to be the last time. 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Ransom Drysdale didn’t get dumped—he was the one who did the dumping. And, he, thinks with no small amount of derision as he watches you from across the bar, I didn’t get dumped. We were never together. You can’t break up if you’re not together. The thought rings hollow even in his own head as he nurses his fifth beer of the night. It feels stupid-no, superficial, now; the way he’d only drop by your dorm-room after midnight, showing up without calling or texting and knowing full well that you would let him in. 

But not anymore. 

You’re too far away for him to hear it, but when you laugh, you tilt your head back, attempting to cover your wide grin with one hand. Pretty, he thins to himself, taking another long swallow from the bottle. Fuck how had he not noticed how pretty you are when you laugh, before? Had he just never seen it? Now that it occurs to him, Ransom’s hard pressed to find a memory that isn’t just sweaty skin, and hungry words growled into the curls at the nape of your neck.  

Fuck.  

Those were his favorite nights, the ones he spent digging his fingers into the softness of your hips while he sank in to the hilt—Ransom shudders. Even through the condoms you insisted he wear, the memory of your slick, tight heat is enough to send a hot, jealous pulse through his veins. 

“We’re not together,” you’d said, crossing your arms stoutly as you stared up at him. “Condom or nothing.”

Probably doesn’t make Isaac wear a fucking condom. He takes another bitter swallow. He doesn’t know what’s worse, the thought of you fucking that Leave it To Beaver reject, or you fucking him raw. Both make him see red. 

“Right, Ransom?” Someone claps him on the shoulder, and Ransom nods wordlessly. He isn’t paying attention, not to them, not with you here. You lean over to say something to your friend, the same mousy one who’d volunteered herself in your place. Ransom scoffs into his beer. 

“Three fucking weeks.” He mumbles, draining the bottle before placing it down almost too hard on the bar-top. “How’s it get serious in three fucking weeks?” He waves at the bartender, signaling for another. 

“Ran, we’re heading out.” Theo jerks his head towards the door. “There’s a party at Jude’s place. Hella girls.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Drunk ones.” 

Ransom shrugs bad-naturedly, grimacing. “I’m going to stay here,” he says evasively, casting another sour look at you as his lip curls. “I don’t feel like pulling your head out of the toilet tonight.” 

“Whatever, man.” Theo rolls his eyes, squaring his shoulders. He follows Ransom’s eye across the bar, and smirks. “Just because you’re not getting your dick wet with your porky little sidepiece anymore doesn’t mean the rest of us have to stay here and mope with you all weekend.” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol warming his gut, but Ransom’s up before he’s really got a chance to think about it, his hands on Theo’s shoulders as he shoves him backwards, hard. The other man stumbles backward, and Ransom squares his shoulders. 

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”

“What, now you care, all of a sudden?” Theo scoffs. “Dude you wouldn’t even let her come in through the front door—” 

Ransom doesn’t know when exactly he grabbed a handful of Theo’s thin hair, holding his head still while he drives a frenzied fist into his former friend’s face as everyone watches. He comes to as he rears his fist back again, the sound of his name distant in his ears, like it was spoken through glass. 

“Ransom!” Your confused face in the crowd is all he can see—which is why Theo’s sucker punch catches him off guard. It makes his ears ring as stars explode in his right eye. The world tilts as Ransom stumbles, and the television static in his ears is replaced by yelling. The warm wet trickle from his nose is blood, staining the tips of his fingers red as he holds his face. Theo’s not doing much better, blood pouring from his nose, and an ugly, swollen bruise coming to bear on the right side of his face. 

“Fuck you,” Theo mumbles, drawing the back of his sleeve across his bloody lip. “Fucking asshole.” He storms out, a few of their frat brothers trailing behind him as he goes. 

“Are you fucking serious?” The bartender throws down the towel in his hands, before smacking them against the bar-top. “I’ve fucking told you guys about bringing that bullshit in here—”

“I was just leaving,” Ransom snaps, shoving his hands into his pockets. He hates that he can feel your eyes on him too; watchful, judging. Theo’s gone by the time Ransom makes his way outside. It’s almost winter break, and the icy night air feels good against the hot, painful throbbing in his cheek. 

“Ransom.” He turns, scowling at you over his shoulder. “What the fuck was that?” He shrugs miserably. 

“Nothing.” 

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

“What do you fucking care?” The venom on his tongue flows easily, likely aided by the liquid courage currently sloshing around in his gut. “You blocked me. You have a boyfriend.” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting from this confrontation, but your distinct lack of a reaction feels like more of a slap in the face than anything else. You blink at him, one eyebrow quirked as if in question. 

“Yeah, I did.” Why does it hurt? Ransom’s rejected hundreds of girls—some as he was fucking pulling out of them, so why does this feel like a fucking knife in his back? “I figured you wouldn’t care much, Ransom, considering.” He hates this, hates how he’s the angry one and you’re calm—the roles should be reversed. They would be, if not for that niggling, irritating feeling that you should be his, just his. He doesn’t want to admit that you’re right, that you’ve got him pegged dead to fucking rights.

“How would you know?”

“You don’t sneak girls you like in through the basement entrance.” You retort smoothly. You’ve had a lifetime of this, of learning to live in your body, of learning to weather other people’s reactions to it—it’s Ransom that’s unfamiliar with rejection, unsure of how to handle the fact that the “r-train” isn’t enough to keep you coming back for more despite his treatment. 

“But I do. I do like you.” He says, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to be a thing. We can just, we can go back to how it was before.” This time, you do react, your face screwing up as you regard him first with disbelief and then anger. 

“Why would I give up being in a relationship with someone who actually likes me, who is willing to be seen with me in public places and with his friends— you know what? I don’t need this.” You mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This is what I fucking get for trying to make sure you’re okay. Silly me. I thought we were mature, here.” You gesture between the two of you before another dry laugh bubbles out from between your lips. 

“Have a good night, Ransom.”

No, no, don’t leave! The desperate thought makes his throat tight. You can’t leave me. He stumbles exaggeratedly as you watch, falling against the bus stop with a groan. The plan lays itself out before him neatly like lines on a map. 

“God fucking dammit—Ransom!” You huff irritatedly. He leans against the pole, counting the seconds until you come over to check on him. You do, and he moans pitifully. “Can you walk?” 

“No,” he hiccoughs, swaying cartoonishly as you try to help him stand. “Ju-hic-just go. I’ll be fine.” You blow an exasperated breath out as you straighten him up. She doesn’t talk to her parents. He licks his lips as you pull out your phone, holding it up to your ear as you wait for someone to answer on the other end. She told me that when we were smoking, that one time. 

“I obviously can’t. How did you get here?” You say, holding your hand over the mouthpiece as you scowl up at him. 

“Theo d-drove.” The house is only a ten minute drive from here. Fifteen, tops.

“Yeah, I’m just going to head back to campus. No, I’m gonna take an uber. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, Isaac.” The little smile that curls at the corners of your lips makes him sick. “Yeah, you too.” Ransom leans on you heavily, and you don’t seem to notice when he presses his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo with relish. Fucking Isaac.

“I’ll get the uber,” he says, slurring the words deliberately as he fumbles with his own phone. “M’sorry, Princess.” He taps the screen clumsily, selecting Home instead of Dorm, before hastily stowing it back in his pocket.

“Don’t call me that.” You snap sharply. You try—and fail—to stand Ransom on his own two feet. Instead he hangs over you, draped over your shoulders with his chin resting on the top of your head.

“Why?” The question comes out petulantly. “You used to like it.” 

“Stop.” 

The familiar feel of your body pressed against his is sweet in a way Ransom hadn’t anticipated. The attic’s secure. Quiet. 

When the car pulls up, Ransom allows you to wrangle him into the back seat, where he sprawls across your lap when you sit down beside him. You don’t say anything to the driver beyond a mumbled hello, which suits him just fine. Ransom plays up the drunk act, asking the driver a nonsensical question that makes you whisper at him to be quite. 

“Sorry. Just trying to get him home.” You reply, pushing uselessly at his head as he settles into your lap. Soft. He can’t help but run a reverent hand across your jean clad thigh. Love how soft she is.

You’re so distracted trying to keep him from getting comfortable that you don’t notice the cab is heading away from the dorm until the driver turns down the private road. 

“Wait—wait, I think you made a wrong turn somewhere,” you say, leaning forward to talk to the driver. He shakes his head enthusiastically, and points at his phone’s GPS. 

“No, I followed the directions,” he protests, and Ransom hides his snicker in a groan. “This is the address.” 

You lean back with a dissatisfied sigh, and look down at Ransom. 

“Let me see your phone.” He unlocks it and hands it over, his face a mask of innocence. You notice the mistake immediately, leaning forward again. “Could you turn around and take us back to Harvard campus, please—”

“This trip was already way out of my route,” the driver grouses, frowning at the two of you in the mirror. “And I don’t think he’ll make another trip. Looks like he’s about to puke any second.” 

“He’s fine.” 

Ransom retches, and watches as the cabby’s face twists angrily. 

“He’s not! I’m sorry, I’m done for the night. Maybe someone else will be able to pick you up.”

The finality in his voice makes Ransom giddy, and he clutches his stomach, gagging. He’s never thrown up—he’s not a fucking freshman lightweight, he’s a fucking Sigma for chrissakes—but he’s willing to let the two of you believe he might. You bite your lip, teeth sinking into its pillow softness as you try to undo what Ransom’s done. 

“M’sorry. Didn’ mean to put in the wrong hic place.”

You nod stiffly. “I know. I guess… Well, this place has plenty of couches, right?” There’s little humor in your joke, but Ransom makes sure to laugh a little anyway, nodding. 

“My grandfather won’t mind if you sleep in one of the guest rooms. Promise, Princess.” 

“Ransom, don’t—”

“We’re here.” The driver cuts in as the car pulls to a stop in front of the house. “Sounds like you guys have it all figured out.” 

—

As expected, the only people home are his grandfather, along with a few odd members of the staff. They’re easy enough to convince, Fran and Marta ferrying him upstairs to his room while he mumbles incoherently. You help too, tugging the blanket up over him after pulling off his shoes with a grunt. It feels nice, having you care for him like this, your soft hands on his face. 

It feels right. 

“I’ll get the guest room set up for you upstairs,” Fran says on her way out. “I’ve got a t-shirt around here somewhere.” Ransom doesn’t catch your answer, but that doesn’t matter much, not when he knows where you’ll be. It’s strange, how he’s impatient now, here at the home stretch, but he is. The smell of you, the taste, the feel, it’s all he can think about now that he’s so close.

It won’t be easy keeping you, he knows that, but nothing good comes without a challenge, right? And with the right motivation, Ransom knows he can make you fall in line. The house quiets around him, and distantly, he hears the sound of first Fran’s car, and then Marta’s. He forces himself to wait a few minutes more, and when he emerges out into the still air of the hallway, he smiles. 

The door to the guest room is ever so slightly ajar, and Ransom slides inside. You sit up sharply, and for a moment only sound between you is the quiet settling of the house. 

“What are you doing?”

“I came to check on you.” He can’t see your face in the dark, but he can see the shape of you, silhouetted in the pale beam of light streaming in from the tiny window above the bed. 

“I’m fine.” The words are stiff. “You should go to bed.” 

He doesn’t. Instead, Ransom turns and closes the door securely behind him, slipping the key into his pocket. The sound is deafening in the quiet, and he knows you hear it too. 

“Have you texted Isaac, yet?” He asks, cocking his head. The room is small, shaped oddly by the sloping roof, and Ransom himself takes up the bulk of it standing in front of the door. You seem to shrink a little in response, and your hesitation answers the question truthfully, before you’ve even spoken. 

“Y-yes. You should go to—” The way your hand strays under the pillow to feel for your phone tells him the opposite. Ransom licks his lips. 

“Have you fucked him yet, Princess?”

Your gasp is audible. 

“Don’t—don’t call me that. Ransom go to bed. You’re drunk.”

“Have you fucked him?” He repeats it, dropping to his knees on the bed.

“Get out!” You make for the door too late, and Ransom grabs you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist as he breathes a relieved sigh into your bare shoulder. Your frustrated struggle turns panicked at the sound of metal clacking against metal. “No, Ransom no—” The handcuffs he produces from his pocket aren’t the padded ones he’s used with you before—these are the real deal, and he clamps them tightly around your left wrist, looping it around the bed-frame before capturing your right. You’re writhing and fighting, but it’s easy to ignore the pain as he locks his arms tight, waiting for you to tire yourself out. 

You’re wearing just a t-shirt, and Ransom palms the heavy weight of your tits through the soft cotton with a soft groan.

“So you haven’t fucked him.” 

You open your mouth to scream, and Ransom laughs. 

“Nearest person is two floors down, Princess,” he breathes, a low,  satisfied hum rumbling in his chest as he draws his fingers through your messy hair, before tangling his fingers in it to tug your head back. His teeth scrape at your throat. “You can scream if you want to,” he mumbles against your pulse. “You know I like it when you’re loud.” 

“Ransom, stop. You’re—”

“Drunk?” He answers smartly, before shaking his head. He cups your face with one sure hand, stroking your lip with the pad of his thumb. “I know you feel bad, Princess. You let me fuck that juicy cunt so quick, you thought you needed to make him work for it.” This close he can see your face, can see the guilt you quickly try to bury because he’s right. The answer is there, written in the way you turn your head away from him, trying to hide your face in shadow. Ransom doesn’t let you, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers as he forces you to stay still, to look him in the eye. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit hoarsely, and Ransom laughs. “You’re fucking drunk and-and—get off me!” You shrill, bucking against him uselessly. If he’s drunk, that’s what he’s drunk on; the heady sensation of knowing the truth with absolute certainty. 

“I know exactly what I’m talking about.” He sneers, pressing you down into the mattress. The smell of your skin is intoxicating, like orange blossoms and fucking sunshine. “Fuck, Princess, I missed this.” It’s almost reverent, the way he slides his hands down over your hips, slowly working a knee between your stubborn thighs. Your borrowed t-shirt rolls up as Ransom spreads your legs, grinning at the sight of white lace between them.

He draws a finger over the curve of your cunt before cupping it. 

“Why’d you block me, Sweetheart?” He asks, tracing the shape of your puffy lips through the cotton. 

“You didn’t want me!” You hiss through clenched teeth. Ransom clucks his tongue at you, shaking his head, before delivering a stinging slap to your cunt. You feel it through the cotton, of course, whining and writhing underneath him as you cry out. “You’re fucking crazy—” The palm of his hand cracks sharply against you again, and it cuts your complaint short as the words disappear in a pained gasp. 

“Be honest with me, Princess.” He says, grinning as you try to wriggle away from him.

“You wouldn’t even be seen with me!” Your voice cracks. “It’s not fair, Ransom!”

“You want me to stake a claim, Sweetheart? I can do that,” Ransom breathes, pushing the shirt up over your breasts, groaning at the sight of your puffy nipples. He draws his thumb across one, watching, enraptured, as the flesh pebbles underneath his touch. He trails sloppy, heated kisses up the side of your throat, nipping at the skin until you whimper. He mouths at your skin, sucking at the purpling bruise until he pulls away, satisfied. 

“We can think of a more permanent solution later.” He leans back with a satisfied sigh. It feels good to mark you, to watch the bruises spread like ink on your pretty skin. 

“Please, Ransom, just go!” You sob, the chain rattling against the bed-frame as you try unsuccessfully to loose yourself from your restraints. “We-we’ll just pretend it never happened!” You nod at him, like you’re trying to encourage him to do the same, your wide eyes fever bright. “It’ll be just like before—”

“Why would I want that?” He asks, reaching down to tug your panties tight, pulling the fabric tautly through the lips of your pussy like dental floss. “I don’t think you’re really grasping the situation, Princess, so let me spell it out for you.” Ransom spreads your legs wider as you stare up at him with fearful eyes. 

“I don’t want things how they were before.” He snarls. “Things are different now, Sweetheart. You made them different.” Ransom slips his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties, and begins tugging them own your thighs, ignoring your whimpered pleas to wait and stop. You kick at him, a frenzied wail working its way out of your throat. True to his word, he ignores it, sliding down your body until he’s faced with the slick patch between your thighs. 

“Ransom—” His name is a hoarse wail as he attaches his lips to your cunt, his tongue seeking out your traitorously swelling clit. He grins against you, dragging his tongue noisily through your folds, moaning. This is perfection, he muses dimly, lapping at you as you whine. You can’t deny how good it feels, not when he can see the evidence glistening on your quaking thighs, taste it on his tongue. You’re gasping, those precious little choking noises filling his ears as you try to swallow down the sound of your pleasure.  

“Can’t fucking get over how good you taste, Princess,” he mumbles, reveling in your yelp as he sucks harshly on your swollen bud, spreading you wide with his fingers. You shake, your body jackknifing as you murmur nonsensically. He’s always loved that flavor—like fresh peaches, why do you taste like fucking peaches—

“F-Fuck you!” He doesn’t let you cum, though, pulling away to flick softly at your clit with his thumb. He draws the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the evidence of your body’s betrayal with a sly smile. A hoarse little whimper escapes you, and Ransom clucks his tongue, before reaching down to palm himself through his sweats. His cock his hard, so hard it almost hurts, thick drops of precum gathering at the reddened tip. He reaches for his phone with the other hand, the shutter noise clicking as he snaps a few pictures of your tear-stained face. 

“N-no, no—!” You voice your displeasure with a whine as Ransom pans the camera down your body, like he’s trying to map it out for posterity’s sake. “No pictures, please, please!” Your wild, watery eyes are frantic as you plead with him. “Please don’t, Ran, please don’t send those—” A hot pulse shoots through his body at your desperation, and his cock throbs. 

“A minute ago you were just telling me to go fuck myself.” He quirks an eyebrow at you over the top of the phone. “So which is it?”

“Please don’t send those.” You swallow thickly, the sound audible. “Please.”

He has no intention of sending them anywhere—except maybe to Isaac with your face cropped out, of course. But he smiles lasciviously anyway, blue eyes narrowing. Ransom runs his tongue across his lips, still tasting you on them.

“Let’s make a little deal, then.” He tugs his sweats down, and the fat, veiny length of his cock springs out. Ransom hisses softly as he spreads a sticky drop of precum across his tip with his thumb. “You’re going to end it with Isaac.” You open your mouth to complain, but Ransom forges ahead, ignoring you. “We’ll be exclusive, you and me, Princess.” He forces your thighs open a little wider. “Just like you want.” Ransom’s practically giddy with the thrill of it as your full lips begin to tremble and fresh tears track down your cheeks.

“I—I don’t want you!” You gasp, your attempts to buck him off only succeeding in wedging him further between your frantically kicking legs. Ransom clucks his tongue at you. 

“I don’t know about that, Princess,” he says, slapping a hand against your swollen cunt, cupping it roughly. You squeal as he draws a finger through your slick, still throbbing folds. 

“Not sure if you’ve ever been wetter.” Ransom presses your thighs to your chest. He asks, licking his lips. “It’s all up to you, of course.” Ransom lies so easily it doesn’t even really occur to him that he’s doing it. 

“You tell me to go, I’ll go. But I can’t say what’ll happen to that footage.” He shrugs. He’s got no intention of leaving this room, not really, but he doesn’t mind pretending. “But if you were my girl, I might be able to swing deleting it. After all, what would I need it for? Got the real thing all to myself.” He dips the tip of a thick finger into your entrance. “Get it, Princess? No more scholarship. No more shitty dorm-room. I’ll take care of you.”

You’re so easy to read like this, your guard down and your desperation front and center. He can see you weighing the options, trying to parse out the best win for yourself in this devil’s bargain. He can see you testing the weight of your future against the events of this evening, and coming up far short. Ransom’s not stupid—and neither are you. You know what happens to girls like you when these things make their way into campus chatrooms and local reddit pages. 

“You’ll really delete them?” You ask meekly, your mouth trembling. “You won’t… you won’t show these to anyone?” Ransom grins wider, drawing an X across his heart with the tip of his index finger. 

“Cross my heart.” Ransom steadies one hand against your hip, his fingers sinking into the soft curve of it as he aligns himself with your entrance. His eyes roll as the head of his cock meets your cunt with a lewd, wet squelch. He’s getting impatient—after all, it’s been more than two weeks since the last time he’s been inside you, and his cock twitches hard against you at the thought. 

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry Princess, you’ll need to speak up.” Ransom leans down over you, his hard eyes locked on yours. “Again.” 

“I said fine!” Your quiet voice is strained. “Fine. I’ll—I’ll break up with Isaac—”  Ransom kisses you, swallowing the rest of your words eagerly. He gorges himself on your mouth, sucking your tongue fiercely before pulling away to worry at your lower lip with his teeth until it’s swollen and red. 

“Oh Princess.” He breathes. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”  He watches with dark glee when your eyes go wide as he begins to press into you, the head of his cock forcing you open. “No condom this time, but that’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Ransom!”

“M’right here,” he breathes, his hips jerking as your slick, puffy cunt sucks at his tip. “Fuck.” Ransom watches your eyes roll as you sink your teeth into your lower lip.  “I know you missed it too, Sweetheart,” Ransom grits the words out through his teeth as he sinks in, his toes curling as your wet heat envelops him inch by precious inch. “You can admit it.” 

The warm euphoria that spreads down his spine as he bottoms out draws another curse from his lips. You feel like fucking slick velvet inside, your walls clamping down on the girth of his cock like a wet fist. It’s hypnotic, pulling out only to thrust home again, his ears barely registering the groan of the bed-frame beneath you. The space between his temples is buzzing—your compliance, the feel of you around him, the knowledge that he’d won—Ransom’s delirious with it. 

What’s even better is he can see it, plain on your face how much you’re enjoying it—how much you hate yourself for it. It makes every mumbled curse, every moan he wrenches from your unwilling throat all the sweeter. Ransom clucks his tongue at you as he leans down to capture your lips again. They’re pillow soft and swollen from his teeth. 

“It’s my fault.” Ransom drives his cock into you, groaning. “I was stupid, Princess, I know. But I know what I need, now,” he says, hooking an arm beneath your thigh, lifting it so he can sink in even deeper. “Just you.” The shameful little wail that escapes your throat as you clamp down around him is almost enough to make him cum with you, cursing and crying as you do. He hangs on by the last fraying thread of his self control. 

“Shit, shit, shit—”

“See?” He laughs, rolling his hips into yours with heavy strokes. “You need me, too.” 

God, he loves seeing you like this, loves being the one to break you apart—loves knowing he’ll be the only one. It’s that thought that does it, aided by the miserable way you mewl his name as you cum again. His hands are tight on your hips, sinking into the heavy curve of them as he growls your name roughly in your ear. For a moment he’s lost in it; his forehead resting against yours as you milk him. 

He stays inside you for a few luxurious minutes, basking in the feel of your cunt before pulling out. Ransom slaps his still hard cock against your oversensitive clit and you whine, your hips jerking. He can’t help but admire the mess he’s made, dragging his tip through your slick, sticky folds. 

You watch him with red-rimmed eyes, your brows furrowing as he rises from the bed, pulling his sweats back up over his hips. He doesn’t reach for the keys, but instead slides his hand underneath your pillow to remove your phone. 

“Ransom let me out, now.” Your voice is high, panicked. “You promised—”

“To delete the pictures.” He finishes, nodding. As you sputter, he removes his own phone from his pocket, and faces the screen towards you as he selects the pictures and videos from the photo album, and there’s a swooshing sound from the phone’s speakers as they disappear. “And I’ve deleted them.” Frantically, you rattle the handcuff chains against the bed-frame, trying desperately to dislodge them as Ransom sighs. 

“You’re just going to hurt yourself.” You keep trying anyway, ignoring him your terrified sobs grow louder. 

“Let me go! You fucking promised, Ransom, don’t leave me here—”

He cocks his head at you. 

“Why would I leave you?” He asks, slipping both your phones into his pocket as he stands, stretching. “Winter break’s just starting,” Ransom says with a smile. “And I can’t think of a better way to spend it.” 

the end

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[megamindsecretlair]

The King and I, Part 2

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Mentions of violence, killing, slavery, forceful touching, and suicidal ideation. Kissing, mentions of female and male body parts. Doesn't follow canon of the movie.

Summary: You have waited in agony for King Ghezo to send the guards or the Agojie after you, after the stunt you pulled. He invites you on a morning walk instead where you have to address that he is not the man you thought he was.

Word Count: 2,856k

A/N: OMG! I am outdone by all the love and support for this one. Thank you!! I'm not so sure this will still be 3 parts. I'm not yet ready to say goodbye to these two. We'll see, bear with me! I haven't been feeling well, so this is a little short. Forgive me. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @gg-trini @eggnox @naj-ay444 @sheepywritesfics @westside-rot @twocentuar @pinkpantheris @tchallasbabymama @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @abeautifulmindexposed @neawarren @monaeesstuff @blackerthings

You did not know what to make of the King. You walked beside him, heading outside of the palace. There were no guards to follow you or servants to trail behind like ghosts. He had come to your room early this morning, looking fresh and radiant.

You, however, had not been able to sleep at all. It was too quiet in the palace. You were used to your father’s loud snores, your mother’s quiet murmurings. The noise from the surrounding forest. 

When he came to your door, you had sleepily answered it, holding the door open just a crack. The crack had been enough.

“Will you kill me today, my Queen?” King Ghezo asked, like he did every day this past week. You didn’t understand him. 

You feared that an Agojie would swoop in the middle of the night. Would hold their hand over your mouth and stab you through the heart. Night after night, you prepared for death. And morning after morning, it was kept at bay.

Beside you, the King walked with his head held high, shoulders back, and magnificent in royal blue robes swishing behind him. It was as if the air itself parted for him. 

“The day is still young, my King,” you had told him. You don’t know why you said it, only that it seemed to please him. He smiled and invited you on a morning walk with him. He encouraged you to bring the knife with you. 

Was this a trap? 

Leaving the palace, you were greeted by just how large his land was. True, you knew he ruled over the whole kingdom, but his palace lands were huge. Jungle stretched in front of you. A worn path was set off to the right. In the distance, you saw the valley open up and the fruits of the palm oil trade were under way.

But the King set off to the left, towards the cliffs. The sun with its rich oranges and golds was starting to lighten the world. Like a giant’s eye waking up. The King kept moving, without a sound.

If he was finally going to kill you, he chose a fine morning to do it. The air was still, calm, and peaceful. The grass beneath your feet was soft. Its blades softly crunched beneath you. 

You looked to the King once more. To the way he carried himself, flitting from one task to another. This past week, he had attended so many meetings. You were now expected to attend these meetings and sit by his side. You had moved to sit in one of the seats before him, but he had beckoned you to his side. You looked to his first wife, who merely smiled kindly.

She rarely spoke, so you didn’t bother to either. Once you sat by his side, in a place of honor, you had looked at him the entire meeting. It was hard to think that this man and the cruel man your father taunted you with were the same person. You kept your defenses up, but you were growing weary. 

Maybe today was the day, after all. He had not come to your room since that night. You quickly learned that the eunuchs were horrible gossips. They would let everyone know that the King had not touched you. Had not planted a baby inside you yet. Every servant you passed gave you funny looks.

You wondered if they cackled and laughed at the skittish new wife who will not give the King a baby. Did they think you defective? Why should you care? You had not cared that your father treated you like elephant dung. You had not cared that your mother let him take you away forever. You did not care that you were married to the King. 

You looked to the ever brightening sky as if you could see straight into Mawu-Lisa’s eyes. If they wanted you dead, so be it. 

The King held out his hand to you. You looked at him and he only smiled patiently. You took his hand and he helped you climb the hill. At the top, there were trees with heavy foliage. He moved a branch aside and pulled you ahead of him. 

Your breath escaped you. Before you, you could see the ocean. You sank clumsily to your knees as you looked at the sight. You had never seen it before. You lived too far inward and the river was fed from the ocean, so there was no reason to venture half a day there and back. 

The sun rose over the water, stretching rays of red, orange, and gold across. The light refracted off of the water, like diamonds. The sound of the waves were mighty yet soft at the same time. As if that same giant heaved sighs as it awakened. 

“I wanted to show you something that would make you smile,” King Ghezo said. He moved beside you and knelt down, running a finger across your cheek. You had not realized you were crying until you tore your gaze from the ocean and looked at his finger.

“Do not weep, my Queen.” His eyebrows drew together as if he cared about such things. As if it wounded him to see tears in your eyes. 

You bowed your head, shook it. You were in such disbelief, you had no words. None. Such an everyday sight for him reduced you to silly tears. 

“Why? Why do this?” You asked. Why allow you to see such beauty before he took it away forever? 

The King looked towards the ocean. He sat so still, you did not think he would answer you. “How can I ensure my people’s happiness, if my own wife is unhappy?” He asked. He folded his hands in front of him. 

“Your first wife…” 

“I have a special relationship with her. As I hope to have with you. I do not see you as one of many. You are one. Unique. I thought giving you space, seeing me as a just ruler would help you come out of your shell. Perhaps I was wrong,” he said. 

You chewed on your bottom lip, completely dumbfounded. Your head spun. There were too many conflicting emotions to make sense of any one. Somehow, he made you feel special even with the knowledge that you are not his only wife. In fact, there will be more after you. Each one thrown at his feet as you were. Or offered from other tribes in hopes of allyship against the Oyo.

A burning coil of anger knotted around your heart. You pressed your hand to it. What kind of feeling was that? It continued to burn and pressure burrowed. You did not have a name for that so you focused instead on the King. 

“I am not unhappy,” you said, softly. And it was true. For the first time in your life, you felt…quiet. You have fought your entire life to be heard or seen. To make a mountain of yourself in the eyes of someone who saw you as a rock. 

Here, you didn’t have to do that. People saw you. You had dreaded a life of invisibility. To be passed like stewed meat from father to husband, your role nothing more than a broodmare. To live an unremarkable life. To die never having known joy. Love. 

Here…here was different. And you did not know how to put that into words for him. 

“But you are not happy either,” he said. 

He glanced at you, turning the full weight of his gaze on you. You searched his eyes with unspoken questions. What did he want from you? Could he not simply find someone easier, daintier, more demure, more accommodating, more…wifely.

Again, the burning coil squeezed your chest harder. You took deep breaths as you looked out over the ocean. That wondrous sight. The sky had lightened, the rich blue racing across the sky and beating back the paint splattered hues of the sun. Heat was starting to press in from the sun.

“Have you plotted yet, how to kill me?” He asked.

You huffed a laugh and he toppled over, holding his chest. “Ah, the first real smile I have seen on your face. Does my death bring you happiness?” 

“N-no! I would never-” 

He chuckled. His entire body shuffled as he did so. He still confused you so. It was frustrating! He stalked through life with his heart on his sleeve, emotions given freely. You ached with the desire to be the same way.

You were so mired in your own thoughts, you did not know which way was up. How could he identify them so quickly? Give them without reservation? 

“I am messing with you. So tell me,” he said. He leaned up from the ground, resting his hands behind him to support his weight. The vivid blue of his robes ought to clash with the surrounding greenery, but he looked as home there as he did on the throne. 

You fiddled with your hands, unsure what to say. Were you really going to joke about killing the King? 

“If I told you, you would see it coming,” you offered. You peeked at him from underneath your lashes and he grinned. Oh, that grin. He was handsome, you had to admit. 

“Beautiful and smart. A deadly combination in a Queen. I shall keep my eyes open then,” he said. 

The tips of your ears burned looking at the intensity of his expression. 

“Did you play here often as a boy?” You asked to break the tension. When he looked at you like that, it was far too easy to be ensnared. To remember that you were his wife. And you were all alone with your husband. 

The stirrings of arousal made your belly flutter. Your core ache. You shifted on the ground and cleared your throat. You could not lose focus.

King Ghezo smiled. “I did. My father was busy with my brother, the heir. I was left alone, free to explore. Read. I used to watch the kingdom from here,” he said. He jerked his chin into the distance and you followed his line of sight. 

There was a little alcove of land that you could see from this height. Then he turned his head and you did the same. You could see the entire expanse of the kingdom. 

“Did you know? That you would one day be king?” You asked. 

“No. Had I known, I would have run away,” he said.

You looked at him. A small smile hovered his lips. “I did not wish to be king. It is a heavy burden. So many look to you for safety. I have to fight tradition and the minds of men who see us only as property. How they can come here, look me in the eye, and wish I toiled their fields fills me with such…hatred.”

“But still you sell Oyo prisoners?” You asked.

“We cannot fight two wars. They know this. I know this. It is an ugly reality,” he said. 

He never looked away from you or shied away from your questions. He did not tell you that this was not appropriate for someone who looked like you. Who had breasts instead of a penis. That you were incapable of understanding the harsh reality you all lived in. 

“Will we ever be free? Truly free?” 

“Yes. They cannot kill us faster than the hope in our hearts,” he said. 

You nodded. You played with the hem of your orange robes. You did not know what to make of the king. But he was so passionate in everything he did or spoke of. 

For the rest of the morning, you asked him questions about growing up, becoming King, and how he wished that one day, women would have more freedoms than they did now. That little girls would not be thrown away at the king’s feet.

“I will not kill you today, my King,” you said and smiled at him. Genuinely smiled. He matched your smile. He held out his hand and you took it without reservation. You will not kill him today. And it appears he will not kill you either.

He suddenly cocked his head, looking at you. “Since I am safe from your blade today, wife, may I ask you for something?” 

“What?” You asked, an edge of wariness creeping into your tone. 

“May I kiss you?” He asked.

Your lips parted. That was the last thing you expected him to ask. Your father had ensured that you were never left alone long enough to experience a kiss from any local boy. He didn’t want even a hint of impropriety when it came time to sell you. 

Not trusting your words, you nodded. You wanted to know what his lips felt like against yours. It was a crazy notion, but it was there. 

He leaned up from his relaxed position, never having left it throughout your entire conversation. He inched closer, settling next to you until he was pressed into your side. 

You were as still as a statue. Your hands were planted on your thighs, fingers bunching up the fabric of your robes in a death grip. You watched everything he did. Every move of his powerful arms. His thick legs. The way his robes slanted over his exposed chest. A single droplet of sweat running between his pecs and down the front of his pants.

You swallowed hard, fighting the rising panic in your chest. 

He reached out his hand and carefully extricated the fabric from your fingers. He massaged the feeling back into your fingers. Wasn’t he going to kiss you? You had said he could. 

Your mind began to spin with anxious thoughts. Did he change his mind? Was he still going to?  

“You must relax, my Queen. It is a kiss, nothing more,” he said. 

You nodded and took deep breaths, willing your body to cool down. To be present. You were back to breathing normally, not quite holding yourself so stiffly. 

He lifted a hand to run his finger across your cheek. His touch was warm, feather light against your skin. His finger trailed to below your chin.

“Close your eyes, my Queen,” he whispered.

You closed them slowly. Somehow not wanting to look away from him. He was so close. Your head screamed that this was inappropriate. But it wasn’t. You were his wife. 

Once closed, he tipped your chin up. His breath fanned over your face. Smelling somehow sweet, as if he had sucked on fruit before coming to you this morning. 

You felt his face get closer. Your belly flipped once more. You knew you grew damp and you half wondered if he’d be able to tell. Then, all you could think about was how wet you felt. How badly you wanted him to lift your dress. See how he made you feel since you had no words nor bravery to tell him. 

His lips descended on yours like a bird landing on a delicate branch. His nose pressed into yours. You breathed in the heady aroma of the palm oil and other oils he rubbed into his hair and skin. He smelled earthy. 

His lips moved over yours, pressing and retreating. You matched him, following his lead. He suckled your bottom lip into his mouth and a faint moan escaped you. Your clit throbbed. That was a new sensation, even for you. 

It was as if he’d awakened something in you with each pass of his lips. He licked your lips and you gasped. He swooped in, slanting his tongue to play with yours. Your hands drew up to cup his wrist, still holding up your chin. 

His skin was still warm. There was a faint bump bump of his heartbeat. 

You grew out of breath but you didn’t care. His breath supplied yours. His kisses filled you with all the sustenance you needed. The world was so quiet where you sat, that you heard the smack of your lips. The wet plop and suckle of his tongue meeting yours. The gentle groan in his throat.

The heat of the day paled in comparison to the heat of his lips. The strength of his arm. The delicate way he held your head up to meet him. Savor him. Crave more and more.

His kisses slowed until your breaths mingled, panting for air. He rested his head against yours. Then, he kissed your cheek and your forehead.

Your eyes slowly opened and he looked at you with unbridled lust. You wondered if he’d go further. Demand more from you. You gave him this, what was more? 

“If you do not kill me tomorrow either, my Queen, may I kiss you again?” He asked.

“Yes.” Yes, of course he could. Your lips tingled. You licked your lips, tongue searching for any remnants of him. More, your heart whispered. You looked at him as he pulled back to look at you too. 

You smiled, knowing that pretty soon, your head and heart would gladly meet him in the middle.

The Secret King Ghezo Files | Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[unactivewaspsfics]

Hi, I saw that you were open for OW requests and was wondering if it was okay to request Hanzo with an introverted s/o? They like to relax at home more instead of going to parties and having a quiet life. Only going out sometimes for dinner or a movie/museum. How would their relationship start and how would he show affection? Thank you in advance! <3

Insecure Connection

A/N: RAHHHH TY FOR MY FIRST REQUEST <33 I tried my best and I do really hope you enjoy it anon! I haven't written for Hanzo or Requests so if I messed up don't feel scared to tell me where I messed up at! I put so much love into this omg </3 ALSO, if there isn't a said gender in a request I will try to not give any specified gender :) Ily and enjoy reading :D.

Pairing: Hanzo Shimada X Introverted S/O

Word Count: 1,195 words

How You Met / How Your Relationship Started:

Okay, so I feel like Hanzo would 100% of met you at an Aquarium, more specifically in the jellyfish exhibit. Hardly anyone is in there because of the dark but he admires the shapes, sizes, and the jellyfish themselves as they glow.

You saw he was, basically, the only other person there so you decided to join next to him and view The Box Jellyfish they had in a giant tank in the center of the exhibit. The two of you stood next to each other for, at least, 4 minutes. Each of you giving the other brief glances.

Hanzo took a deep breath, sensing how awkward this moment was, and decided to ask you, “So, which Jellyfish is your favorite?”. You smiled, replying with your favorite jellyfish, which the exhibit didn't have. You explained for a moment how you came all this way for a Jellyfish that wasn't even there. Hanzo nodded his head in agreement, replying with "I am so sorry... There must have been another reason you came here?".

You nodded, giving a small laugh before saying how when you were stressed, going to places like this would help calm you down. It was a kind of haven, no one really to bother you and it wasn't so overwhelming your social battery would go down quickly.

Hanzo agreed. "Social spaces also make me... anxious in a sense. I can't always be in them for too long. I am glad you understand what I go through." This interaction was the start of your friendship.

The two of you would spend the rest of the aquarium visit together, commenting briefly on the ocean life and similar experiences you may have. You never realized how much you could connect with someone out of online experiences like the way the two of you connected at this moment!

By the end of the visit, the two of you decided to exchange numbers. The moment you got home you started to message Hanzo. He replied almost immediately. The more the two of you messaged, and sent memes (although he wasn't 100% how to send them or what they were at first), you guys hit it off! The cycle repeated for weeks on end until the messages started implying more hangouts.

You and Hanzo went to many little 'mini-dates' over the year after the aquarium. You visited bookstores, history and art museums, went to hidden lakes to swim, and even went on a week-trip to a cabin in the woods. That trip is where everything started to change between you two, more than it ever has.

During the first half of the week, it was filled with swimming, smores, movie nights, coffee morning, Hanzo teaching you how to shoot a bow while you taught him how to see constellations in the stars. It was like a dream to you and Hanzo.

It was one certain night though, the two of you sat outside next to the fire, the radio playing quiet music as nature also sang her song. Hanzo sitting right next to you on the only wooden bench at the cabin as the fire started to burn out.

"I just would like to tell you," he began, closing his eyes with a deep breath, and leaning back into the seat. "You have been one if not, the only person who understands me to an extent. I don't want us to ever... ever fade apart." You smiled, agreeing with him, noticing how nervous he seemed. You questioned Hanzo about it and he didn't reply, only opening his eyes and looking off into what was left of the fire.

"I have to say this but I would like it if we are able- if you want to officially be my partner... romantically, I mean." He said, clearing his throat through his pauses as he turned to you. Your confused look turned into a smile. You mentioned to him how you felt the same way, the same connection of an introvert finding their duo; their other half in a sense. Hanzo smiled. He smiled more than you could possibly handle.

You moved your hand to his cheek, cupping it as he did the same to you. He laughed under his breath, blowing you a small kiss with a wink. This caused you to move your hand and start laughing; both of you started to laugh harder. It was so sudden and out of character for him, you weren't expecting it! (He wasn't expecting himself to do that either.

"I am- so sorry dear," he said between laughter, calming his composure quickly. You told him it was 'okay, love', that night being the start of your relationship... officially, I mean.

How Hanzo shows his affection:

I believe he shows his affection for you mainly through small gifts, acts of service, and physical touch.

Regarding small gifts I mean stuff most people wouldn't really notice or care for, but you do. Before the two of you started to stay over at each other's places he would bring you your favorite flower every time you two saw each other after agreeing to start dating. Whether that be just meeting up for coffee, a mini-date, or even just hanging out at each other's homes.

You also started to notice that he would leave little notes behind with you whenever he stayed over at your house. The notes would have little cute poetry written on them, each one writing out a thing he loved about you. It was actually pretty cute, you kept every note he left.

The next affectionate thing he would do is acts of service. If it was to help you with shopping or cleaning your home he would be over to help when we could. He loved spending time with you, and even more if he could help you with something that you have pushed back for a while.

He also never minded buying you stuff you saw from stores online. You couldn't make comments about a jacket looking good without him buying it with quick shipping! Because of this, you started to have to remind him just because you say you might want something, it doesn't mean you want it. But you understood where Hanzo came from, he just wanted to make you happy and If that meant buying you stuff then that is what he has to do!

Finally, physical touch. He may not seem like it, but he is the kind of person to cuddle up on the couch or give you kisses on your shoulders or forehead. Even if you may not be a fan of it, he would respect it and hold back.

But come on, no way you could keep declining that face! When you allowed him to cuddle or hug you, kiss you, or even hold your hand, he cherished every moment of it. He would tighten his hold on you as you lay next to him on the bed, pushing his face into your shoulder and kissing it quietly with a hidden smile on his face. If you held hands he would squeeze your hand so firmly, rubbing his thumb on yours while he leaned more onto your body.

[d-raewrites]

Kinktober Volume 10: Preview

Word Count 786

Rated M🔞

Comment for tags

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minors stay out of this portion of the library!

Synopsis: Teasing, Lingerie, Sexy photographs, rewarding for chores, fade to black

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The text popped up on my phone, signaling that my boyfriend, who was supposed to be cleaning the apartment, had already gotten bored. I put the dress in my hand back on the rack before pulling the correct size and adding it to the pile on my arm. Shopping for this new event was going to be the death of me. Honestly, there was only one thing I found fun to shop for, and it was not dresses. Another alert rang through my phone. Did he get at least one thing done? 

“Y/N?”

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.”

Confused crinkled my face. What the hell was he going on about?

“Wasn’t that the number one rule when we moved in together?”

We’d only been living together for a few months, and we had unpacked everything together. We’d pretty much seen everything each other had, body included. 

“Yes, it was. What are you going on about?”

“I have no secrets from you and nothing to hide….”

I shot back, rolling my eyes and heading to the dressing rooms, was he trying to pick a fight to get out of cleaning? This was his work event anyway. A sweet girl places my items inside my changing area and pulls the door closed, allowing me my privacy. I sit on the stool as I pull off my shoes and begin to unbutton my jeans. Another ping from my phones causes me to roll my eyes. Hopefully he at least got the laundry done, he was going to have nothing to wear under his suit to this event if he didn’t. Then again, maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing….make it much more interesting, that’s for sure. Pulling the black dress with the side slit out first, I decide to check the phone again. 

“So…..when were you going to tell me about this????” He asks, sending a picture of the new lingerie I just bought. Oh! That was what he was going on about, he wasn’t mad. He was horny. Fair play then. 

“Oh that. Guess I do have one thing to tell you, but honestly, I’m surprised you never put it together. I have a thing for nice undergarments and lingerie. It’s really the only thing I like to shop for.”

“There was a sale at one of my favorite stores, so I picked up a few things.”

“I thought you’d enjoy them. Do you not like it?” I ask coyly, knowing damn well the discomfort that man is feeling in his sweats right now.

“You bought them for me?” Why is he surprised?

“Do you not like it? I can return all of them?” I hit send, looking over at the two bags I already bought.

“NO! NO! NO! I LIKE IT!! I like it a lot! It’s just all the ideas and images in my mind right now are throwing me off balance.”

“Okay. Just making sure. I mean, I’d hate to wear them all if you didn’t.”

“Wait….. 'them all’? As in, you bought more than just this one?”

Pulling the black dress on, I check my reflection in the mirror. This one will be perfect, and now that I know how he feels about the lingerie, my little surprise I’ve already bought will work wonderfully with it. I pull off the dress and replace it on the hanger. Snapping a pic in the mirror of the lingerie set I’m wearing now before I pull on my jeans and tee again and walk out, leaving the other dresses untouched. 

“Yeah. I have I think 10 sets now. The one you’re looking at, the 8 I bought today….”

“8?!? OMG, Please wear nothing but those for the next few weeks…..and I think you should model them when you get home.”

“Wait, that’s only 9…..”

The smirk that plays on my lips is simply sinful. “And the one I have on…..”

“On? Oh, fuck the event. We’ll go in sweats for all I care. Just come home.”

I’m half tempted to make him beg, but a better idea crosses my mind. Pulling a set of heels from the shelves, I lay them against the dress before trying them on. Perfect pairing. I’m all set for the event. 

“Care to keep imagining, or would you like a preview?”

“Preview or tease?”

Sending the picture I just took in the dressing room, I smirk again. “Either one works, I guess.”

“Fuck baby……”

“Please Please Please come home. I beg you!”

Hook, line and sinker. “Walking to the car now. Finish folding the clothes and cleaning the bedroom, or I’ll have to punish you.”

That’s one way to get the house chores done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kinktober Complete Collection

🧋Kofi

[mostly-marvel-musings]

omg i have been MIA for so long!! how are u?

also, if u are taking any requests what about CEO chris hemsworth x reader with age gap?

CEO

A/N: This gif is so unfair…just 🫠 @agustdowney I’m well, darling! Hope you enjoy this!

Pairing: CEO! Chris Hemsworth x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ significant age gap (10 years maybe?) smut & fluff.

.

Bleary.

If you could sum up your current state in a word, that would be it. A dull but pounding headache was one of the first things you felt as you roused from sleep, along with a wave of nausea.

Sheets crumpled between your bare legs, you untangled them in a hurry to bolt towards the bathroom to empty your stomach, that instant pang of regret for having one too many drinks last night.

What you later registered was the dull, fading ache between your legs and the sore spots against your skin which in the mirror revealed dark, bruised hickeys along your neck and a couple on the inside of your thigh.

Last night.

Or rather little bits of it were coming back to you, the bar your friend dragged you to, the handsome stranger you met while getting your drinks, a casual conversation that turned into heavy flirting.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Can I buy you a new pick up line?”

Your snarky revert reached Chris’s ears before he saw you rolling your eyes at the stranger who had decided to hit on you at the bar.

His chuckle made you turn to him and lock eyes, the bluest of the blue and the kindest you had ever seen before you shamelessly checked him out, the man was gorgeous.

“You don’t have a go to line, do you?”

“Nope. Never needed one to be honest.” His baritone was enough to send butterflies fluttering in your stomach even with the loud music that blasted through the speakers. The man was kinda cocky, but there was something about him, you had to admit.

“Oh he’s humble.” You giggled, watching his eyes crinkle in the corners.

One thing led to another as the conversation flowed along with drinks, the chemistry was palpable, almost electric as the two of you talked through the night.

The next thing you vaguely remembered was stumbling inside your apartment, knocking the furniture over as Chris carried you in, his lips attached to your neck while ridding you of your clothes in a hurry.

When you made it to your dimly lit bedroom, your eyes shamelessly raked over his physique after unbuttoning his shirt.

The man was surely built by the Gods, a perfectly toned chest that led down to his chiseled abdomen, further down his happy trail and boxer covered manhood.

He was sly enough to put on a show for you, peeling his shirt off of his shoulders to display his arms that were easily the size of your thighs.

Strong and ripped, the veins that popped up were enough to make you clench your thighs together, your mind already wandering places fuelled with the potent mix of alcohol running through your system, clouding your rational thoughts.

All of that wandering turned into a reality as Chris crawled up your body, holding the back of your knees as his bristly beard brushed against your thighs, creating a delicious friction as his mouth approached your clothed cover.

It took you a beat to register what he was doing as your panties were slid aside to expose your moist core.

With a slight nudge of his nose, he pushed your clit hood upward, his tongue peeking out just a little before the sound of your panties ripping into shreds next caused you to yelp and giggle drunkenly.

Chris attacked your cunt like a starved man, holding your legs apart while his tongue lay flat against your folds, teasing and coaxing them open before plunging inside, letting out a grunt of approval as you writhed beneath him, fingers twisted in his short, deep blonde hair.

Your mouth opened willingly as he silently commanded you to suck on his fingers, his smirk disappeared between your legs when you obeyed like a good girl.

“Dear Gods above, don’t stop!” You moaned, back arching off the bed as that wicked tongue circled over your bundle of nerves while he pushed his thick fingers inside your tight heat, murmuring how good you felt as your warmth swallowed them.

In a haze of alcohol and pleasure that coursed through your veins, you came as he added a third digit, curling them over your spot that sent you over the edge.

Your body shuddered as the aftershocks wracked through, a warm flush spread across your skin as your ragged breathing continued, legs almost clamping shut at the sensitivity as you felt him litter your skin with angry, red marks that were sure to turn sore tomorrow.

As he crawled up your body, littering small kisses all over, sleep and exhaustion tugged at your eyelids, the drowsiness that followed had you pass out before you could comprehend.

Chris chuckled to himself as you began snoring lightly, covering you up with a blanket laying on his side, gazing at you as you slept.

Chris.

You hadn’t bothered to register his last name before the two of had stumbled home in the wee hours of the night.

Peeking out of your bathroom door, you caught him sitting up in your bed and stretching. The taut muscles in his back flexing in the most delicious way as he stood up and shrugged on his shirt from the night before.

“You know, we’re in your apartment. You don’t have to act like a little spy.”

He smirked looking over his shoulder, clearly aware of your shameless staring. The way his voice was deeper in baritone in the mornings was enough to fluster you, along with his towering and slightly intimidating presence in your tiny apartment.

The guy could be well out of your league, you thought. Morning afters had the habit of giving a reality check like nothing else.

“You should be illegal.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself, regretting it as his smug grin widened, he was clearly enjoying himself.

“Did you uh—I mean, did we have—”

“Sex? No. We would have, but you were snoring away happily after I went to town on you. Anyway, I wouldn’t have tried anything. I would very much have you screaming my name when you’re in your senses.”

The memory of his tongue working wonders on you came rushing back albeit hazy as your thighs pressed together at the mention.

The smug bastard.

Chris swiftly moved to your kitchen, curiosity asking you to follow him to find him reach for a glass of water and some pills for your headache.

“I trust your head is killing you?”

“Why thanks, it is.” You sassed back, doing a rather poor job of it but willingly accepting them from him.

“Rest up. You need it.”

He ordered you around with a certain undeniable authority, leaving you at a loss for words as he casually wandered around your space, making himself comfortable on your couch.

He wasn’t wrong, you needed sleep to recover. Especially when you had an interview to prep for later in the evening. That was in a couple of hours as your eyes landed on the clock on your wall.

“I’m screwed.”

“Excuse me?”

“No! I mean, I—I have a job interview later today, its for this big company and I do not have the time to prepare for it. I’m so gonna blow my chances of getting through this one. Why do I do this?”

You cursed under your breath, massaging your temples as you muttered mostly to yourself, missing the fact that Chris was buttoning up his shirt, ready to leave.

“I’m sure you’ll nail it. You’re better than you give yourself credit for.”

You walked him out after throwing on an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts, for lack of a better option. A part of you wanted him to stay for breakfast, but mostly you reminded yourself that this was just a one night stand, probably leading nowhere.

“Good luck. It was very nice meeting you, Miss (Y/L/N). I guess I’ll see you around.” He winked, squeezing your shoulder and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before disappearing behind the door.

…

Your computer was set up for the interview, thankfully it was virtual one, a quick chat with your head hunter before you would be connected to the HR and finally the CEO of the company.

Fixing your hair one last time, your feet tapped against the chair as the meeting proceeded. They seemed happy with you and you were pretty confident as the time passed. It was finally time for a quick introduction with the CEO and the nerves kicked in once more.

The screen revealed the back of an office chair, a plush, dark leather one before it swivelled to reveal the man himself, dressed in a crisp grey suit and the signature smirk as he turned to look at you.

Chris.

It was beyond a shock at this point, your brain forgot how to function and you had to struggle to keep your eyes from widening and to not let the situation horrify you. 

You were hoping the internet would glitch at some point and it would spare you the horror and embarrassment about the fact that you had spent the night with this very man who would now decide your fate in the company.

You were definitely screwed.

“Miss (Y/L/N). We’ve met sooner than I thought we would.”

.

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Tags are open as always! Send me an ask or DM to be added :)

[cacoetheswriting]

hi, i hope you're having a good day! i was wondering if you could write an eddie x reader fic based on the songs "endgame" or "delicate" by taylor swift?

i'm currently fixating on the reputation album and can't stop linking it to eddie so i just had to send in a request! please let me know if you are uninterested or uncomfy, thank you so much!

hey there, hope you're having a great day also and thank you for your request! jsksjs i'm literally obsessed with repuation and think it fits eddie perfectly omg! i based this fic more so on 'end game', but also gave it my own spin (hope you don't mind).

-

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.3k warnings: mutual pining, adult language, jealousy, eddie being a dingus, use of pet names (sweetheart), slight emotional hurt, mentions of alcohol consumption - unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything!

-

This date has gone from bad to worse. 

A casual walk around town and a trip to the arcade, (because boys in Hawkins can’t ever come up with anything original), didn’t sound like a bad plan at first. In hindsight, it’s probably because you were angry at the person you actually wanted to be going out with. At that point, anything would have been a good idea, simply out of spite.

You regretted saying yes now. You would rather be at home nursing your memories than entertaining this pity date. Especially because the extremely awkward conversation dotted throughout the evening made you want to bang your head against a wall. Jesus Christ, was this man boring. Your mom always warned you about people that peaked in high school, you should have listened.

Finally at The Hideout there is quiet — well, no, it’s just too noisy to hear what your companion is saying. You’ve never met anyone that liked talking more than your current date, as if air was running out sometime soon and he wanted to make the most of it. But, and you hated to admit it, he was pretty cute, which is one the main reasons you agreed to tonight — as bad as that is to say.

Not as cute as Eddie, you think and quickly scan your surroundings in hopes you would see his brown locks and this whole charade could end. 

The bar is filled with buzz of drunken talk, loud and incoherent music, glass clatter, and a fog of smoke. Typical Tuesday night at The Hideout. Yet unfortunately, no sight of your metalhead.

“Passing requires accuracy,” your date switches to the topic of football tricks, you simply nod along. Partially because you can barely hear him over the electric guitar of the current song, primarily because you just don’t care. 

“Because you know the player you are throwing to might have opposing players near him trying to block or intercept the ball…”

The rest of your date's words fade into the distance as he steps through the doors. Time stops.

Eddie ignores the people greeting him, instead his eyes instantly find yours like a magnet and he sizes you up from the other side of the room, sending a chill down your spine.

“Would you like another drink?”

The question brings you back from your short-lived trance. You look back at your date and smile sweetly before shaking your head, declining his offer. He nods and proceeds to order something for himself before beginning another ‘guess what’ story.

If you couldn’t focus before, you sure as hell were fucked now.

Swallowing thickly, you glance at the entrance once again. Eddie’s gaze is still burning into you, his eyes narrow. Your stomach churns and you feel your skin turn clammy. Fuck.

Not even a minute ago you wanted this. Now all of a sudden you feel sheepish about this whole situation. Foolish even. Foolish for thinking bringing some random guy from your community college to a place your ex-fling frequented would make said ex jealous. Jealous enough to admit he’s wrong.

Unbeknown to you, Eddie did feel jealousy coursing through his veins. His heart beating fast, eyes not leaving your frame for a second as he pushes through the crowd towards the side of the small stage.

“Hey, guys, how long has she been sitting there?” Eddie questions his fellow bandmates without averting his eyes from the bar. 

The group exchanges knowing glances. Gareth clears his throat. “The last thirty minutes, I’d say.”

“Yeah,” Jeff chimes in, “about that.”

Eddie nods, then proceeds to ask, “And she’s been with him the entire time?”

“Eddie, come on—”

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” the band says simultaneously.

His jaw clenches.

You continue to feel his piercing eyes on you. Your leg starts to bounce and you’re thankful your date is good at being the oblivious jock, making a comment about the song playing as opposed to the overall aura of nervousness you were no doubt displaying.

And you feel terrible. Twisted. It’s horrible to admit you only saw your date as a means to an end. He definitely deserves better. Although, a certain part of you thinks it's his own fault for even asking you out in the first place considering your reputation.

All of Hawkins knew you were chasing after Eddie Munson ever since freshman year of high school. Always almost there, but thanks to the metalheads own insecurities, never quite enough.

“Can you excuse me for a minute? I need to use the bathroom,” you state and point to the toilet sign, just in case he didn’t hear you properly. “All this beer isn’t good for my small bladder.”

“Sure thing,” he replies and reaches for the plastic cup of peanuts, “but don’t be too long cause I think the band is about to start.”

You glance at the stage. More accurately at Eddie who, it appears, took a break from eyeing you to tune his guitar. (Or so you thought).

Chewing down on the inside of your cheek, and without saying anything else to your date, you make your way to the bathroom. Unfortunately, the minimal solitude you were hoping to experience falls through when you try to close the door behind you and a ring-clad hand appears, pushing it open.

Startled, you stumble backwards, allowing Eddie to step inside. He locks the two of you within and proceeds to smile. The grin is cheeky, annoying even, borderline smug.

“Don’t you think you should quit playing with other people’s feelings, sweetheart.” 

His voice sends a tremble down your spine.

“Fuck off, Eddie.”

The metalhead chuckles under his nose. He runs a hand through his brown locks before reaching for your arm and pulling you towards him — unsurprisingly, there is little to no resistance from you. 

Standing toe to toe, he slips one arm around your waist, his hand making home underneath your armpit, over the side of your rib cage. Just like that, your heart stops and your breath gets stuck in your throat.

Faking confidence, you manage to blurt out: “What do you want, Eddie?”

“I’ll be honest—”

“That’s a first,” you let the words slip out of your mouth, interrupting him.

Eddie doesn’t appreciate your comment. His eyes go dark and suddenly your back is pressed against the cold tile wall. No escape. 

“As I was saying,” he continues casually, “I’m feeling quite jealous seeing you here with… whoever that guy is.”

(Aha. One step closer to victory.)

“Good. Serves you right.”

Eddie arches a brow. His eyes travel down to your lips and he can’t help but lick his own just thinking about how it would feel to kiss you right now. Phenomenal, no doubt. Things with you were always phenomenal.

“Look, sweetheart, that fight we had, that’s nothing,” he begins in a smooth tone, “Just a small tiff between two people that care deeply for one another. We can’t let it get in the way of what we have.”

You scoff. “And what exactly do we have, Eddie? Hmm?”, you challenge while huffing up your chest. The action, albeit small, causes Eddie to freeze momentarily because, Jesus — and he hated himself for even focusing on this right now — were your nipples hard?

“If I remember correctly, you said I needed to get a life and quit following you around like a lost puppy,” you continue, the anger in your tone causes the metalhead to loosen his hold on you as in all the time he’s known you, he’s never seen you this upset.

“So I did what you told me, Eddie. I found myself a date who thinks I’m hot, smart, funny, and not just there for his entertainment. Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking asshole all the damn time, you’d also find someone.”

“I do have someone like that,” he states quite harshly and you roll your eyes. Was he for real right now?

“Then what the fuck are we doing here, Eddie? Go be with that person and leave me the fuck alone,” your voice brakes meekly during at the end and you are fighting every fibre of your being not to cry. “I really don’t need this bullshit right now.”

Before Eddie can react or respond, you free yourself from his grasp and exit the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

“Fuck,” he groans.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. He then follows you outside, although because of his delayed reaction, you’re back at the bar with your date and his heart sinks. He’s such a fucking idiot.

He returns to his bandmates who, judging by the displeased look on his face, knew better than to ask what just happened. They scramble onto the small stage and even though the last thing Eddie wants to do now was perform, he picks up his guitar and approaches the mic.

The second his voice booms throughout the venue, you tense and hastily order another drink. With the cold beverage in hand, you adjust in your seat to face the stage, although you refuse to look at him because it would only hurt that much more.

It was stupid to think coming here tonight was close to being a good idea. You may have made him a little bit jealous but it didn’t matter. Not when he had someone in his life that was everything you ever hoped to be.

“Shit, they're so good,” your date exclaims and all you can do is nod.

The set drags — at least for you. When it finally ends, the crowd erupts in a roar of cheers, including the guy you were with. You clap slowly while standing up on your feet, eager to get out of here.

Sliding a hand down your date’s arm to grab his attention, you can feel someone else’s gaze burning into you and your stomach flips. So you muster a smile as your date looks at you, pushing any agitating feelings down.

“Think I’m ready to call it a night,” you say honestly.

“Sure thing, darling.”

He follows you out obediently and you’re grateful, he really is such a nice guy. Maybe this evening wasn’t so bad. Maybe something good came out of it.

The cool air is soothing. For a brief moment, you’re able to relax.

“I had a really good time tonight,” your date exclaims, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Me too,” you respond. A small white lie.

“Maybe I can call you tomorrow? We can do this again sometime?”

“Sure thing.” 

He chuckles. “That’s my catchphrase.” 

You crack a genuine smile. “Well, it’s a good catchphrase.”

There is a brief moment of silence. People are slowly starting to trickle out of the bar and you’re back to feeling nervous. You didn’t want to see Eddie again. Not tonight.

“I’m only down the road so I can walk, are you okay to get home?”

“Yeah, but will you be okay by yourself? Wouldn’t want some creep following you or something.”

(No we wouldn’t.)

“I’ll be okay. I promise.”

He’s hesitant but nods eventually.

“Goodnight then, darling.”

“Goodnight.”

You like that he’s respectful and doesn’t try to hug or kiss you. Instead, he waves and you watch him walk away. The second he’s out of sight, you rummage through your handbag to retrieve a packet of cigarettes. Smoking relaxed you. And fuck did you need it right now.

Exhaling, you begin to walk in the direction of your home. Though, once again, your solitude is short lived.

“It’s not fucking bullshit!” 

A voice you recognise as Eddie’s bellows and you turn on your heel to face him. In the space of a single heartbeat, the metalhead is standing in front of you. He takes the cigarette from your hand, throwing it to the ground.

“I was enjoying that,” you mutter unimpressed.

Eddie ignores you, taking your hands in his before repeating, “It’s not fucking bullshit, okay?”

The curious glimmer in your eyes mixed with the sadness he no doubt caused is all the encouragement he needs to utter this next part.

“You’re that someone, okay? You are it for me. There’s no one else.”

His words ring in your ears. But he doesn’t give you enough time to process because he continues, “Fuck, sweetheart, it really pains me to see you with someone that is not me. And I know what I said that night, I remember every horrendous detail, but you gotta believe when I say I didn't mean it. I just fucking panicked when you told me how you really felt about me.”

Eddie sighs. You’re frozen as his hands move to cup your face.

“If anything, these last few days away from you made me realise that even though I told you to move on, I can’t let you go. It’s like your hand is printed on my fucking soul or something.”

“Eddie,” you’re not sure what you’re about to utter next. Which is why you feel quite grateful he places his thumb across your mouth, stopping you.

“I fucking…” Eddie takes a deep breath and presses his forehead to yours, “...I fucking love you.” 

Eddie’s gaze travels to your lips. It’s an unspoken plea which you answer by grabbing onto the collar of his t-shirt. Within a split-second, he closes the gap between you.

The kiss does not feel the same as any of the previous ones you shared. This kiss is passionate. It further ignites a certain spark with every breathing moment your lips are connected. It feels like a promise, that he really does love you. It’s real. He’s real. This is real.

Slowly, and quite reluctantly, Eddie pulls away. There is a smile spread across his face from cheek to cheek, an expression you can’t help but return.

“I fucking love you too, Eddie.”

-

eddie munson masterlist | main masterlist

[powerfultenderness]

omg halloween fics im so excited! my first thought was the gang deciding to not dress up as anything spooky bc one member is comically afraid of the season, they go the wholesome route and all agree to dress as their heroes. peacemaker shows up in full 70s glam rocker costume. vigilante is, of course, dressed as peacemaker. and you show up in an adorably makeshift vigilante costume! hes saved your life a dozen times, of course hes your hero!!

Don't You Get It?

Rated: T+

Pairing: gn!Reader/Adrian Chase

Summary:  When the Adebayo’s request non-scary costumes at their Halloween party this year, you and Adrian are forced to get a little creative.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2192

A/N: Ah, ty for this suggestion! I liked it so much that it got a little out of hand and I had to cut out a couple of scenes! 😅

🔪[#Vigilante Halloween Masterlist] 🕊

[Masterlist]

[Dividers]

“No. Fucking. Way!” 

“What?” Leota called after you as you dashed further into the clothing section of the store.

When she caught up with you, you spun around with an excited flourish as you held up a black tee shirt. It had Vigilante’s signature chevron pattern printed on the chest. 

“Do you think Adrian gets a cut of the sales?” 

She laughed as you put the shirt back on the rack and grabbed one in your size. 

“How? They can’t just send a check to “Vigilante”. It would be cool though, maybe he'd be able to quit his job.”

You snorted out a laugh and dropped the shirt in your basket. “Can you imagine Vig as a full time crime fighter? You thought he was wanted on multiple counts of murder before?” 

“You’re right. Fennel Fields keeps him humble. I can’t believe you’re actually buying that.”

“I don’t know how, or when, but one day it’ll come in handy.”

She laughed and moved onto the next section of the store.

That was a couple of months ago. “Summer of Super Heroes” the store called their little promotion. There had been clothes based on other heroes, of course. Mostly Batman and Superman, but locations with local heroes also got merchandise based on them. Peacemaker and Vigilante had been hailed as heroes after the whole Butterfly incident, so they also had merchandise. It wasn’t much, it looked like you missed all of the Peacemaker merchandise, but you were lucky enough to snag a Vigilante shirt before it sold out.

Now Halloween was approaching and the Adebayo’s were hosting a party in which they were requesting no scary costumes. 

“I can’t believe I can’t go as Leatherface!” Adrian complained while you stitched him up from his latest recklessness. 

It hadn’t been an official ARGUS mission, but you had a major soft spot for the vigilante, so you gave him a standing offer to help him out whenever he needed, and he needed help often. According to him, even your band-aids were somehow even better than his! 

“I was gonna bring a chainsaw and everything! It’s not fair! I can’t even use a chainsaw on pretend bad guys!”

You finished up, double checking your work just for the chance to subtly run your fingers across his incredibly chiseled abs. “I don’t think there are going to be many pretend bad guys anyways, V.” You started and pulled your hands away from his warmth and removed your gloves. “Remember Adebayo suggested that we come as our hero or something.”

"That's so lame!"

You started to tidy up your med kit while he tossed a shirt on. “Hmm.”

“What?” He asked once his head popped through his shirt.

“Nothing, really. I just thought you’d be jumping at the chance to dress up as Peacemaker.” 

He loudly gasped and his eyes went wide.”You’re right! It’s not lame!” But just as quickly as he had changed his mind, he returned to pouting. “But, where am I going to get a Peacemaker shirt in time?!” 

“Just buy a red shirt.” 

“But it’s gotta have the dove of Peace on it!”

“Paint it on?”

“It won’t look good if I do it!” He huffed, “can you do it?”

“Hmm, probably not well.” You conceded. 

He whined and pouted again, so you continued to spin ideas for him. You couldn’t have your favorite boy feeling all sad, no matter how cute he looked.

“Doesn’t Chris have multiples of that shirt? Just use one of those?”

He looked at you dubiously. “I know you think I’m big and muscly,” he was, “but P’s shirts won’t fit me! It’ll look stupid if it’s all baggy!” 

“Okay. Tell you what, if you can get one of his shirts, I can do a bit of tailoring and bring it in for you.”

“Really?” He gasped and leaned forward on the desk he was sitting on.

“Yea. I’ll even let it back out after the party so he doesn't get mad at you for ruining one of his shirts.”

“You can do that?”

“Pretty easy, actually.” You nodded.

“You’re so cool!” He hopped off the desk and pulled you up into a big hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He rocked you from side to side as he continued to hug you. 

“Calm down, Vig!” You winced from how loud he was.

He dropped you with an apology and a wide smile gracing his lips, then helped you clean and lock up before leaving Henenlotter in a rush, presumably to borrow one of Peacemaker’s shirts.

-

The next day he texted you saying that he got a hold of one of Peacemaker’s shirts and he was going to drop it off at your place. It was later than you expected when he actually showed up, but considering he was wearing his Fennel Fields uniform, you guessed he just got off of work.

“Hey,” he greeted as you let him in. “Can I change here?” He motioned to the duffel bag in his hands, one you’d seen many times before and knew to contain his Vigilante suit.

“Sure.” You took the Peacemaker shirt from him and tossed it on the back of your couch. Then you grabbed the measuring tape you set out for when he got there. “But before you put your Vigilante suit on, let me take some measurements.” 

“Ok!” He said cheerily, but he walked away towards your bathroom.

“Oh…no.” you blinked, “I meant…” well he was already in the bathroom…

Sure enough, a minute later he returned to the living room in nothing but his tactical pants and socks. Not that you were going to complain.

It surprised you (not for the first time) how soft his skin was. Usually when you patched him up, you wore gloves, robbing you of the feeling of his skin. But now, as you took his measurements, you were reminded of just how soft his skin was. So few scars actually covered his body, despite how often he got hurt. You’d only been around the team for a few months, a more than welcome field medic, and by all accounts, he should have way more scars, but even the wound you stitched up last night was nothing but a light pink blemish that was sure to fade completely rather soon. 

“Do you have a costume yet?” He asked once you let him go. He sat down on the couch and started to slip on the rest of his suit.

“Uhm, not really.” You half lied. You had an idea, and you were pretty certain you could get all the components for the costume from your existing wardrobe. 

“Oh! If you want, I can borrow another shirt from Peacemaker and we can match!” 

His smile was so cute that you almost felt bad for shooting him down. But there was no way you were going to wear a Peacemaker costume! “No thanks, I’ll think of something before the party.” 

“Aww! How awesome would it be if we were both Peacemaker though?” 

 You chuckled and steeled your nerves. Honestly, if he kept that up you might just give in. “Maybe we can wear matching costumes next year?”

-

You were running a little late to the party. A quick text to Adebayo meant that no one was worried, though Adrian kept texting you updates on the party and sent a few pictures as well. (You may have saved the selfies that he sent. He just looked so happy and so good that it was hard to resist!) 

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It wasn’t just the 11th Street Kids, but some of Keeya’s friends and coworkers as well as some of their neighbors. So it was a bit hectic when Leota answered the door. She was balancing a bowl of candy in one arm and a dog in a doctor costume in the other.

“Hey! Happy Halloween! Come on in!” 

You followed her in with an enthusiastic greeting. 

The dog in her arms started to squirm so she motioned to a room off the side of the entryway. “You can put your coat and hat down in there.” 

“Alright.” You didn’t bother to correct her, that the plain black baseball cap that you wore was part of your costume, as you headed for the room she pointed to.

Before you even opened the door, you heard your name yelled from across the party.

Adrian had spotted you walking in, in fact he’d been eagerly checking his phone for a text from you and watching the door every time the doorbell rang. He quickly caught up with you as you entered what you assumed was a small guest bedroom, if the twin bed tucked in the corner and piled with coats was anything to go by. 

He started to excitedly tell you how everyone, even Peacemaker,  said his costume looked so good. And that because of your tailoring Peacemaker hadn’t even noticed that he borrowed a shirt from him in the first place!

“Wait, you didn’t even tell him you were borrowing his shirt? Adrian, isn’t that stealing?” You teased him as you dropped your coat with the others on the bed. 

“No! It’s not technically stealing because…” he stopped talking as he took in your costume.

Once you had the Vigilante shirt, it was easy to put together a Vigilante costume, as you already owned tactical pants and combat boots. 

You raised a brow at his sudden silence. “Adrian?”

“...Holy shit. You’re dressed as me?” 

“Yea!” You smiled, then pulled up the black neck gaiter you were wearing and popped on a pair of red sunglasses. “What do you think?” 

“...You’re dressed as me.” 

You blinked and started to get a little concerned that he was repeating himself. “Yea..? Not enough? Too much?” 

“No. I don’t think you understood what Adebayo said. We’re supposed to dress up as our heroes.” He emphasized his point by clapping his hands together.

You looked down at your costume before looking back up at him. “Yea dude, I got that. We had a whole conversation about it while I was giving you stitches, remember?”

He gave a little frustrated growl, like you weren’t understanding him, and scrunched up his face. “But you’re supposed to dress up as your hero! And you’re dressed up as me!” 

You took off your sunglasses and pulled the mask down so he could see your face clearly. “Adrian, Vigilante has saved me at least a dozen times, if not more! You saved me. So of course you’re my hero.” 

He swallowed, “o-oh…”

You broke the slightly awkward silence that followed with a quiet cough. “But if you want me to change or something, I’m sure Leota has some-”

“No! No. I just, uhmmm…” Adrian was looking up as he tried to think of something, anything, to say. His blush no longer stained his cheeks because of frustration, but you had just called him your hero. 

“I look that good, huh?” You giggled a little nervously as you copied the Peacemaker hero pose (that you’re pretty sure he just made up) that he kept doing in the pictures he sent you. 

That seemed to snap him out of his stupor and he grinned at you. “Well you are dressed as the second coolest hero!”

“What? I’m totally dressed up as the first coolest hero!” 

He blushed even more, even the tips of his ears were turning pink, and looked down at his feet.

“Which makes what I’m about to do a little weird.” You finished and flipped your hat backwards.

He looked up and tilted his head in that cute way he always did when he was confused. “What are you about to do?” “This.” You quickly kissed him, just a little peck of the lips. 

You meant to kiss him and dash off to the party to deal with however he felt about you kissing him later, but he quickly grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him. 

He dropped his forehead to yours, his nose lightly bumping against yours and he grinned. “Eat peace, motherfucker.” 

You snorted out a laugh, unable to control your chuckling until he kissed you. He was smiling against your lips, laughing with you even as he nipped at your bottom lip. 

“Nu-uh! You guys are not having sex in here!” Leota yelled as she stood in the doorway pointing at the two of you.

You and Adrian jumped apart slightly, but he managed to keep one hand on your back, as you looked at Leota in surprise, neither of you heard her open the door.

“We weren’t going to have sex!” You protested her assumption.

“We weren’t?” 

You coughed quietly and looked at him. “Well, not here, anyways!” 

Which meant that you were open to have sex with him anywhere else! “Awesome!” 

Leota eyed you, though you could see the amusement in her eyes, and ushered you out of the room.

You weren’t sure what was sweeter, the candy you kept munching on, or how closely Adrian was glued to your side for the rest of the night.

Tag list:

@lululandd

[waywardscorpio]

Title: The Archer Of Infamy’s, Little Minx 

Pairing: Damian PriestxReader

A/n: Not requested. I had an Idea pop into my brian and well he was the first one to come to mind. Enjoy. I apologize if the ending sucks a little.

Word count: 5,554k words.

P.s. This is my first Primal/Prey pairing. I'm sorry this ended up getting quite lengthy. This may only be one part. Unless anyone would like another part. I'm not sure if I'll turn this into a short one or not.

Idea: Y/n was invited to a Halloween Bash by Rhea Ripley. So Y/n goes to a sex shop as a last resort to get something to wear for a costume since all the other store were out of costumes or didn’t have her size. When Damian sees the outfit Y/n has on it sends his mind into a world wind of thoughts. Damian had his eyes on Y/n most of the night. He was fine until he saw her dancing with Finn Balor. Oh boy does that strike the jealousy. He hated seeing anyone with her, especially Finn, cause Balor knew he had his eyes on Y/n. Finn was apart of the plan though that Rhea hatched secretly to get Damian to finally fess up to Y/n he is in love with her

Warnings: Smut, Plus size reader, 18+ ONLY, Primal/Prey, Jealous Damian, loving rough sex with Primal Daddy Damian, sex shop shopping, handcuffs, oral sex (Female receiving. Male receiving), sex outside on the balcony, degradating a little bit and some Fluff. DON'T READ IF YOU ARE NOT 18 AND UP.

Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist @fanfiction-san @scuzmunkie @callmekda @phoenixoffiretwo

@luna-loo @braunstrowmangirl

@sweetpea-1970 @cuzimacomedian

*Third Person*

Y/n had always loved Halloween since forever. She loved the spooky season, besides it being fall. Y/n was invited to the big Halloween Bash by her good friend Rhea Ripley. Y/n was reluctant at first but Rhea has her ways to get Y/n to agree. “Yes, finally you agreed. Now the party starts at eight tonight. So please I beg you let that little devil side of yours out for a little fun.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows at Y/n. She just rolled her eyes giggling slightly. “Oh don’t think I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours. Especially everytime Damian walks by you. Oh he’s going to be there too. Just saying.” Rhea said, smirking at her friend. But Rhea knew something Y/n didn’t know about Damian Priest. Damian Priest the Archer Of Infamy is head over heels for Y/n.

One thing was for sure Y/n had always been in love with Damian since she started in the Wwe on the Raw and Nxt Brands mostly. She had become fast and quick friends with Rhea, Damian, Ruby, Liv, and Keith. Most of the superstars and divas would be there. Y/n thought about what Rhea said and she knew her friend had a point. Y/n hatched a plan thinking it was either now or never.

Y/n was on her way at her last hope to find a costume in time for the party. She walked into the largest sex shop she has ever seen before and she has been in a few sex shops. Y/n pulled out her phone and video calls Rhea. “Okay um…. Help. I can’t figure out what to wear. There are too many choices.” She pleads straightly stuck on what outfit to go with cause there’s so many of them to pick from. Rhea laughs and shakes her head knowing exactly what sex shop Y/n was at. Rhea decided to grab her keys and get in her car and drive the five minutes to the sex shop to rescue her friend in need. “I’ll be there in five minutes, hold on. Yes, I know where you are because I go there to get some stuff from there on occasion.” Rhea said as she drove, keeping her eyes on the road. “I owe you one Rhea” Y/n sighed in absolute relief. “Repay me by finally telling him how you feel. Okay I’m here where are you at in the store?” She asked him as she looked at her phone. “What if he doesn’t feel the same? Back left of the store aisle 36B.” Y/n Said to Rhea. “Okay be there in a minute” She said, hanging up without answering the question.

“Oka--- Holy shit you weren’t joking at all the choices” Rhea said looking at all the costumes on the shelves. “Okay we have exactly five hours till the party starts. Let's get to work.” Rhea said to her as she began to grab choices while Y/n grabbed accessories. After two and a half hours Y/n settled on a damn good outfit sure to catch looks and stares. Y/n hopes she can catch Damians. “Alright we have two hours for us both to get ready before we have to be there. Thankfully it is only a ten minute drive from here to the party.” She said to Rhea. “And to answer your question from earlier I have a feeling he feels the same.” is all she said on the subject.

Rhea and Y/n drive the five minutes to Rhea's house to get ready for the party. Ruby and Liv showed up early at Rhea’s house. “Where is she? Where is she?” Liv bounced up and down as the three girls stood at the bottom of the staircase waiting for Y/n to come down. “Oh my fucking god. In my opinion you’re going to have that man going feral with jealousy” Ruby said. “Yes Queen. Look at your gorgeous self.” Liv said. Y/n smiled at her friends. “I told you. Everyone sees how he is with you. If he doesn’t fucking grow a set I’m taking you.” Rhea joked on the last part as she adjusted her wig. “You haven’t noticed how he is always flirting with you or becoming protective of you?” Liv said. “Hell Liv here was the first to notice it before anyone.” Ruby said to Y/n. “I thought he was just being nice.” She said looking at them. “I’ll prove it to you. If Finn asks you to dance, say yes to him and you’ll see.” Rhea said. “Okay I’ll give it a shot” She said to her. “Wait, why specifically Finn?” She asked Rhea. “No reason. But we all know Finn likes to dance and you two are always dorks when you’re drunk and dancing.” She said half lying. She had a reason alright but she wasn’t telling Y/n why. “Well I’m too scared to ask Damian to dance and Finn is a good friend of ours and I’m comfortable enough to dance with him. Finn and I, just friends.” Y/n said. Rhea smiles and nods.

They head to the party after stopping and picking up some lollipops, chocolate, chips and drinks. Everyone was bringing something to the party. Y/n helps carry stuff into the party. “Holy fuck. Damn girls. Y’all liable to give people heart attacks” Keith said playfully as he walked up to the girls. “Oh definitely Damian is gonna cave tonight. If he doesn't, Imma fight him” He said to Ruby. Ruby nodded her head agreeing with him. “You too?” Y/n looks at Keith. “How have you not noticed it?” He asked her as he looked down at her. Y/n looks at him “I thought he was just being nice.” She said to him as she then looked between Keith and the girls. Keith chuckles and shakes his head a little.

As soon as the party got started it got more heated with music, dancing and drinking. “Hey Y/n, want to dance?” Finn asked her after walking over to her. She glanced at Rhea who gave her a nod. She set her drink down, took his hand as she walked out to the dance floor with Finn. Damian was talking with Drew and Big E about different stuff, sports, hiking, and fishing. 

Big E was the first to notice Y/n dancing with Finn and where he had his hands. “So, have you asked Y/n out yet?” Drew asked after taking a glance in the direction of Big E’s glancing. Drew and a few of the other guys and divas knew what was about to take place the moment Damian saw. Damian turns his head to look at Drew as he spoke “I don’t think she has gotten the hints. What else could I do?” He said to the guys as he looked at them and raised a brow. Drew gestures to the dance floor where Y/n was and a fire was lit in his eyes when he saw the sight of Finn grinding on Y/n. Damian's jaw clenched as he watched for about a minute. “Five bucks says he knocks the fuck out of him?” Keith said to Rhea. They shook hands “I’ll raise you 20. Bet you he won’t” Liv added her own wager.

Y/n glanced at Damian and oh the look in his eyes sent a rush through her. She was about to play with fire when turns away wrapping her arms loosely around Finn's neck dancing closer to him. “Y/n do you trust me?” Finn asked her as he looked at her. “Yes, of course I do. You know I trust you.” She said, looking at him. The next song came on as they continued to dance. Finn turns them where Damian could see them both. “He’s going to kill me for this. Please forgive me.” Finn said as he grabbed her face and kissed her. Rhea and a few others watched on as Damian strides over closing the distance between them and himself, to get to Y/n. Y/n’s eyes went wide as Finn kissed her and before she could comprehend what just happened she was pulled away by Damian. Damian grabs Finn and swings on him knocking him to the ground. Finn took the hit as he stood up holding his cheek. “Bro what the hell?” Finn acts mad about it. Y/n stood between them. “Damian, stop. What did you hit him for? It was just a kiss,” she said. 

Damian looks down at her eyes filled with jealousy. He grabs Y/n’s arm and pulls her outside to his motorcycle. “Damian slow down please?” She pleads with him secretly, trying not to moan at the aggression fuming off him. She had to admit she always got hot and bothered when he was fuming. Didn’t help either that her mind would wander to very dirty thoughts. She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sudden crash of his lips to hers once they were standing in front of his motorcycle. She moans into his lips kissing back. He pulls away, making her whine “Do you trust me? I won’t do anything without your consent. Your safety and well being comes first” Damian asked her as he looked down at her. Without a second thought she looks at him “Yes” She said without any hesitation in her voice. Damian helps her onto his bike and hands her a helmet after she gets on. “Hold on tight and enjoy the ride” Damian said as he started his motorcycle. Y/n wraps her legs around his torso as she holds onto him pressing against him as he begins to drive off towards the opposite direction of his home.

She recognized the way he was going though. To her surprise he didn't stop at the cabin he owns, he kept driving for about thirty-five or forty minutes. “Damian, where are we at?” Asked Y/n, as she looks up at the decent sized farm land and the beautiful renovated house. “I bought this place about a year and a half ago. Somewhere quiet, and private to unwind from traveling and touring the world.” He answered her question as he helped her off the motorcycle. She looks at the night sky for a moment before she turns to him admiring the soft features of a tough man. “Y/n?” He tilts his head down to look at her “Yes, Damian?” She said softly to him, shaking her head out of her thoughts. He thinks ‘Now or never’ he thought to himself. He took a deep breath. “What is on your mind, Damian? You can tell me anything you know.” Y/n said reassuring him it was safe to talk to her.

It surprised their friends when Y/N first joined the WWE because the moment she met Damian he was hooked on her and fell in love with her the more that they hung out with each other. Damian struggled to really trust a woman after his past relationships. He isn't the type to just sleep around. He wants to find someone to settle down with and spend the rest of his life with. Y/n is the girl he wants to spend his life with. Everyone around them knows how in-love they are with each other but they’re oblivious to how the other feels.

“I love you, Y/n. I have for a long time now. Every time we talk my day is brighter, everytime I see you I get stupidly nervous, and everytime I hear your name I find myself smiling. I don’t know what I would do without you, Princess. You keep me on my toes. Make me smile on even the worst days. You’ve been there for me even when I was at my lowest and you stayed through everything since we met. I am head over heels in love with you.” Damian said as he looked at Y/n. She smiles brightly up at him as she looks at him “I love you, Damian. I just didn’t know how to tell you cause you too, make me nervous. You always brighten my days, make me laugh when all I wanna do is cry, and I feel safe with you. I’m in love with you too.” She said, reaching up to touch his cheek softly. She finds a new found confidence and presses her lips against his.

Damian leans down and places his hands on the back of her thighs, signaling her to jump. When she did he wrapped her legs around his waist and walked towards the house. "What's your safe word or words?" He asks her as he walks her up the stairs and into the master bedroom. “Black Rose” She replied as she looked at him. She trusts Damian and knows he won’t harm her.

"Bed? Shower? Outside? Or do I have to chase you, My Dove?" He asks in her ear and growls deep, sending shivers through her spine and to her core. He sat her down on her own two feet. She thought for a second as she looked up at him. She always wanted to try the primal/prey role playing with someone. "Primal Dom?" She tilts her head with a smirk on her lips as she looks up at him. "Yes. Now, Princess, would you like to be my prey?" He asks as he takes off his shirt keeping his eyes on her. Y/n hums as she watches him walk towards her. Her eyes got dark with lust but also she wasn't gonna give in easily as the look in her eyes became mischievous "Oh Daddy are you sure you can handle me?" She asks. Damian would be lying if he said he didn't just get harder from just her words. Y/n saw the look in his eyes and it was sending a pool of heat even more through her body and down to her core. "Oh Little Minx Imma have your knees weak." He replied as he watched her inching closer to trying to get away. She swallows hard, biting her lip.

He got a sudden idea as he looked at her "Imma count of one hundred and that should give you enough time to get a good head start." He said to her, "What?" Y/n said as she looked into his eyes. "Run, Princess. 1… 2…. 3…." Damian said his words laced with a primal growl. Her heart pounded as she moaned slightly shivering. His voice always gets to her.

Without a second thought she took off out of the room and down the stairs. She was out the door and looked around thinking of which way she could go. For better traction she took off the heels she was wearing. She heard his voice slowly coming down the stairs "29…. 30….. oh Little Minx I can smell the arousal and sexual want pour off your sweet and beautiful body." Damian's voice was deep with want and need. She took off in a random direction. Y/n was letting a whole other side of her out no one has seen before.

Damian smirks to himself as he steps out the front door and takes a deep breath in smelling the air and faint smell of lavender perfume. He saw her shoes sitting on his motorcycle seat. He took his hair down. Y/n listens for his voice as she sneaks around in the woods. She could see the lights from the house but couldn't see him. That was until he turned out all the lights outside and the only light that either had was the moon shining through the trees. "98… 99…… 100. Here I come, Little Minx." He called out and then took off towards the woods. Once in the woods he started walking, and listening to his surroundings. She peaks around a tree to see if she could make anything out like a 6'5" tall, beautifully built, Puerto Rican man 

She was good at sneaking around and being quiet. But Damian could always find her by just her sweet smell even when she was trying to cover it up. Damian listens as he calls out "oh Little Minx wait until i find you."

Y/n listens to his words as she carefully sneaks through the woods as quiet as she could. She accidently stepped on a twig. 'fuck' she mumbles to herself. Damian lips curled into a smirk as he walks towards the sound. "Oh Princess, I heard that. Mmmm I'm getting closer to you." He said loudly. She swallows hard and decides to make a run for it towards the house. Damian let out a deep growl when he heard her take off running. He had gotten close to her. "Catch me if you can, Daddy." She called out as she could see the front door was open like he left it.

Damian took off into a Sprint after her. "Just wait Princess." He said as he started to catch up to her. But Y/N, being Y/N; she had a plan as she made a b-line for the barn and climbed up the ladder after hitting the lights inside the barn. "Oh Princess, I know you're in here. I can smell your sweet Lavender perfume, mixed with your sweet arousal." Damian calls out once he is inside the dark barn. He knew it well enough to know where the second switch was. "I haven't even touched you yet and you're soaked I bet" he hums after turning the switch on. Y/n, snuck quietly to the open barn windows after tying one end of a rope to a pole and tossing the other half out the window.

Damian climbs the ladder and looks around. "Oh Little Minx!" He calls out to her as he looks around until he spots the rope. He chuckles to himself as he climbs down the same rope and looks towards the house seeing her figure running into the house. Y/n turns out lights in the house to give her time to hide so he didn't see what part of the house she was in. She strips down to nothing but her soft silk bra and panties. She hid on the back porch after she finished stripping off the dress and stockings. She carefully sat on the swing and props her legs up and open. She listened as Damian's footsteps got closer and closer. She bites her lip and covers her mouth to stifle a small moan that is trying to escape from her lips as she listens to his heavy growling as he gets closer to her.

Her core ached for friction or something. Y/n's hand travels down her body and in her panties dipping her fingers into her slick soaked core and slowly circling her fingers against her throbbing bundle of nerves. Her small pants turned into whimpers after she picked up the pace. Damian hears panting the closer he gets to her. He quieted his footsteps so she couldn't hear him getting closer. The smell of her slick drove him crazy. He could hear it in her voice that she was getting close. He quietly walks over and tears her panties off in one clean rip and snatches her hand away from her now throbbing core. She whimpers and squirms a little at the loss of friction on her aching bundle of nerves. His cock was straining against the pants he was wearing.

"I caught you my Little Minx." He hummed as he bent down. His lips meer inches away from her ear. "Daddy please!?" She said a slight attitude in her tone as she huffs and crosses her arms. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder and walked into the house and towards the stairs. "Imma fuck the attitude out of you. You're mine!" He said, giving her ass a slap as he took her upstairs. Her core aches more now as she moans at the slap to her ass.

He threw her onto the bed carefully so that she didn't fall off the bed and get hurt. "What are you going to do about it Daddy?" She asked as she sat on her knees looking up at him as she tossed her bra off to the side, leaving her now fully bare skinned on the bed. He grabbed her and pulled her in for a kiss, slipping his hand down to grab her ass.

He smirks into the kiss as he grabs her hair lightly pulling her head back and attaching his lips to her neck sucking and nipping making her moan. Y/N, bites her lip as he sucks at her neck. She reached down with a little more confidence and palmed his already hard erection. He growls breathily in his chest as his hips bucked into her hand while he was leaving a very evident mark on her neck that she'd have a hell of a time covering up.

Damian steps back and strips off his clothes, her eyes glued to his until he drops his boxers. He was thicker than she thought. "Imma take my time with you Princess." He said to her, pinning her to the bed and hovering over her. "Are you sure about this?" He asked one more time before he went any further. "Yes. I wouldn't have stripped naked for you if I wasn't sure" Y/n, said to him.

That's all Damian needed to hear as he pins her to the bed and whispers in her ear "I hope you don't have plans tomorrow." Y/n shivers as she replies back to his words "Nope, no plans." She looks up at him. 

Damian licks his lips before he starts kissing her body, down the valley of her breasts, to her stomach, and finally where she ached for him more her cunt. He looks up at her "May I?" He asks her. She opens her legs more "Yes, Daddy" she said to him. He growls as he licks a strip between her folds, to her throbbing clit. The gasps and moans coming from her fuels Damian as he eats her out.

Y/n's hands went to his hair as she rocks her hips. Her chest rising and falling with little pants from pleasure while he was circling his tongue around her clit. "D-daddy I'm need—" before she could finish what she was saying her thighs clamped around his head as she came on his face her toes curled and her body trembled as her first orgasm shoot through her faster and holy fuck she'd be lying to herself if she said this wasn't the best oral sex she's had.

Her panting got quicker as her thighs shook the more he kept going. "You like that Princess?" He looks up at her as he watches her come down from her first orgasm. He was enjoying the beautiful moans coming from her mouth as he worked her up to her second orgasm of the night. "After this I'm going to fuck you, Princess." He said, wrapping his lips around her clit again, her hands gripping his hair. "Oh please, Daddy. Fuck." Y/n moans out her mouth fell open as soft moans and whines of pleasure fell from her soft lips.

"That's it, moaning for me turns me on more. Keep it up" He praised her as he teases her clit before wrapping his lips around her again. She whimpers softly as she shivers when she is praised. "Oh you have a praising kink my Little Minx?" He hums, sinking his head back down and switching between suck, licking and finger, Y/n. "That's it Baby. You like that? Such a good girl." He said as his fingers curled into the right spot he was looking for. He knew he found the g-spot by just the way she arched off the bed and her thighs quake as she pants. "Fuck. O-o-oh shit. I'm go—" before Y/n could even finish the sentence she was gonna say she was coming on his fingers and face again. He sucks and licks her clean. "Ohhhh Daddy fuck!!!!" She yells out in pleasure.

"Shit." She pants as Damian crawls up the bed kissing her. She moans slightly bothered by the taste of herself on his lips. He slips his tongue into her mouth. "Mmmm. Daddy" she moans rolling her hips up against his already throbbing cock. "Why do you bend me over and fuck me on the balcony, underneath the moon light?" Y/n challenges Damian as rocks her hips teasing him. His hand went to her throat and squeezed slightly as a deep growl that emitted from his chest and into Y/n's ear, had her core throbbing.

Damian kisses her lips making her moan. He pulls away, making her whine when he gets off the bed. "Little Minx, come here" he beckons for her to come here after he opens the balcony door. The cool crisp air made her shiver as she stood up. It felt nice against her hot skin. She walks over and kneels Infront of him. She took the sight of him in as she leaned forward and took his cock in her hand, licking the tip before taking him in her mouth. His head fell back for a second as he placed a hand in her hair and lightly pulled it. Damian looks down at her and fuck the sight was about to drive him berserk. Oh he was loving the sight of Y/n on her knees and mouth wrapped around his cock and her bobbing her head and every now and again deeping throating him.

"Shit Princess. Look at you being a good girl for Daddy." He said, rocking his hips in and out of her mouth as he groaned. His eyes meet hers as he looks down into her beautiful (eye color). "Fuck look at you." Damian said to Y/n. The moans that fell from her lips as she sucked on his member drove him mad with pleasure.

It was hard for him not to spill into her mouth. But she was making it so, fucking difficult. "Mmmm Daddy. I feel you twitching in my mouth already." She moans as his hand grips her hair a bit tighter. He pulls out her mouth. The little bit of spit string from his dick to her mouth was a beautiful sight. He looked at her for a moment before helping her up. He grabs her throat and kisses her, walking her to the banister. "Turn around and bend over." He growls against her lips making her moan and whimper in excitement. She did as she was asked and even spread her legs far enough apart so when she bent over it gave him a good view of her soaked core.

He stood behind her and grabbed his cock leading it to her already soaked pussy. He ran his cock up and down between her folds and oh it felt good to both of them. "If it hurts, tell me and I will stop. If at any time you change your mind, tell me and I will stop. You hear me?" Damian said to her. She nods and smiles at his worry for her. "I promise I will," she said softly. "Thank you." He said.

He began to push his head into her entrance as he went slowly. She gasps softly feeling the stretch. And oh it felt amazing. "You feel amazing," he purrs in her ear. "You feel wonderful, yourself." She said as she looked back at him. She smirks slightly before arching her ass up in the air a little more as she pushes back slowly while his cock stretches her deliciously.

The growl that left his lips made her core throb. She bites her lips "fuck." He groans out as he rolls his hips forward and his cock is now fully filling her pussy. "Oh shit." She moans at the movement of his hips. She knew he had good hip movement but damn she didn't know it was this good or intoxicating.

After she had adjusted to his girth she started to move her hips more. "Look at you being a good little slut." He said smacking her ass as he began to thrust holding her hips. She moans "Only for you." Y/n moans out as she pushes her hips back against his. Damian grabs her hair tugging it lightly. "Good. You belong to me now, Little Minx." He says to her in her ear, after he pulls her up right against her chest and wraps an arm around her chest to hold her.

Damian grabs her chin firmly and turns her head so he can kiss her lips, while his hips get faster and smacks against her ass while he kisses her. The pleasure was intense, his touches, and kissing and the best fucking sex she is getting made her mind go dizzy as her moans were now being swallowed into Damian's mouth. She gasps when he changes the angle of his hips. He was now directly hiring the bundle of nerves inside her core, and she was seeing stars. "Shit Daddy. Fuck there… oh fuck don't stop." She begs as her hands lock together behind his head. " Good girl. Feel the pleasure. Focus on that. But don't cum till I say." His arm around her chest held her, as his other free hand was now toying and teasing her clit. Y/n, damn nearly passes out from the amount of pleasure she was getting from him.

Y/n moans out in pleasure as she could feel him hitting the one spot that made her thighs shake the closer she got to her second orgasm. "I want you to cum with me, Princess. I wanna feel you cum around my cock" he said to her in her ear. "Shit fuck oh God I'm close" she moans her walls tightening around his throbbing cock. He rubbed her clit in circles. Her eyes rolled back as her nails dug into his skin. "Cum" he said demandingly in her ear. "Daddy!!!" She screams out in pleasure arching her back off his chest a little. A few more quick thrusts and Damian was filling her pussy with his hot seed.

Damian took her to the bed and laid her down after pulling out. He cleans her up and then himself. He grabs some Tylenol and hands her some water. Y/n takes the Tylenol and lays down. He grabs lotion and rolls her to her stomach. He rubs lotion on her back and shoulders. "Mmm that feels amazing." She said, to Damian. "You know I meant it when I said I love you?" She said to him, "I do. And I meant it too when I said I love you." Damian said after wiping his hands off, turning the lights out and laying down next to her. "Will you be my girl officially and finally?" He asks, getting serious. "Yes, I will." She said not hesitating for a second. She already knew her answer.

He pulled her to lay on his chest as he kissed her lips softly rubbing soft circles on her back. Y/n kissed back as she smiles and hums softly. She lays her head over his heart and hums softly. They soon fell asleep listening to each other's breathing and heart beats.

[koushou]

i love it smmmm omg. the megumi fix is amazing it’s more than i asked for ❤️❤️ bro 6,9k is a blessing you don’t understand how glad it made me it’s so worth the wait. tumblr is so dry when it comes to anime fics and especially w megumi thank you for feeding me something other than the crumbs this website gives me. i don’t want to be too annoying but whenever you’re free if you could do a pt 2 cause that ending omg. i love it sm and i can’t thank you enough ❤️

pairing : megumi x f!reader [fluff]

warnings : slight makeout scene idk HAHA nothing too intense though (also not proofread because i wanted to get this posted as soon as i finished it)

wc : 3.5k

a/n : ur too sweet omg and im FINALLY back from procrastinating your request again anon… (i really apologize i don’t mean to take so long pls forgive me D: ) i hope this is what you wanted!!

pt. 1 (you don’t really have to read pt 1 to understand this part but i do recommend it)

loud chatter echoes through the large modern dining hall located on the second floor of the hotel.

“i’m… so full…” a certain pink haired male burps for the nth time as he still continues to stuff food into his mouth. gojo laughs at itadori’s passion for the hotel food, while doing the same as he takes a large bite of a pancake.

you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink and leaning back in your cushioned chair, already finished with your 3rd plate of breakfast. i mean, who could blame you? hotel breakfast food just hits a different type of way.

“so, spill all the juicy events that happened last night, i wanna know!” nobara nudges you excitedly, her eyes twinkling as she pulls her chair closer to yours.

rolling your eyes, you look away from the ginger female and pretend to not have heard her. accidentally, you were now faced towards megumi, sitting on the opposite side of you. your eyes met for a brief moment before you quickly turned away, breaking the awkward interaction.

“aww— c’mon, y/n! please—“

“nothing happened at all! and don’t think i forgot the way you ignored my knocks on your door yesterday,” you shot her a glare, earning a sheepish laugh in return.

“but... in the same bed..?”

you were about to retort back when gojo stands up and claps his hand over his stomach, which now seemed just… a few sizes bigger.

“alright! have we all finished our food? god, when did hotel food get so good— anyway, it’s time to pack our things and head back home!” your constantly enthusiastic teacher exclaims, as a waiter comes to collect your plates.

after thanking the waiter and paying the bill (poor gojo-sensei’s wallet), you all head back upstairs to drive back home.

a thick silence hangs over your room as you and megumi collect your items, not wanting to bring up any events from last night. finally ready to head out, you walk towards the door to open it until another hand reaches the handle at the same time.

you retract your hand quickly, while the other hand lingers in the air above the knob.

“oh— sorry, you can go first!” you gulp, backing up a bit so megumi can exit first.

he pauses for a second, twisting the knob until the door pulls open. you expected him to walk out, but he makes his way to the other side of you instead, still holding the door open.

you look over at him with a questioning look, receiving a slight shrug and a hint of a smirk.

“ladies first.”

why was his stupid face so handsome?

you shook your head at his teasing expression, making your way out the door to the carpeted hallway, him following close behind.

the others were already at the lobby waiting, their conversation becoming clearer as you reach them.

“what’s taking them both so long? you don’t think they’re too busy… y’know…” nobara’s usual cheerful voice carries her words to your ears, making you roll your eyes and spook her from being.

“boo.”

“i’m just sayin- oh my go—“ she frantically turns around, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing it was just you.

“you scared me!”

“what were we talking about?”

“nothing important! come on, we should get going!” nobara nudges gojo and itadori ahead, escaping you as she scurries out of the lobby.

you hear a yawn from behind you, a tuft of black hair moving past you as you suppress the urge to laugh at megumi’s already messy hairstyle, amplified by his morning bed hair.

finally, you were all seated back in gojo’s car, ready to drive back to the school so you all can head back to your own homes.

the ride back was full of gojo’s irritating voice singing along to songs playing from the car radio, itadori laughing along, and the rest of you too excited to leave the car.

“alright kids! we’re here, make sure to be safe on the way back home!”

gojo waves to all of you as you hop out of his car one by one, basking in the cool summer air for a few seconds.

“see you guys!”

itadori jogs away, heading in the direction of his own home, followed by megumi, then nobara, and lastly, you.

upon reaching your house, your mother welcomes you, asking about your day, if you had fun, and other typical mother questions.

you were telling her about your day when you suddenly recalled the hotel night events, and scurried away embarrassed upstairs to your room, leaving a very confused mom behind.

you flop down onto the bed, face down, wanting to get a good few minutes of quiet nap time in before your phone dings with a notification.

grunting, you pull your phone out from your pocket, swiping across the screen to check the message.

surprisingly, it was from megumi, eyebrows suspiciously raising as you open the text message from him. you two rarely texted unless it was about school or business-related, so you couldn’t think of anything he would need from you right now.

megumi : Hey.

megumi : I have your hair tie with me. You probably left it in my bag or something.

megumi : I’m coming over in 5 minutes.

you sat up abruptly, rereading his messages to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

you had been so caught up with his prior messages that you failed to register that he said he was going to be at your house in… 5 minutes.

hurriedly, you swiped to see what time he had sent that last message. 12:34 AM.

your eyes moved to the top of your phone screen, reading the current time. 12:37 AM.

almost falling out of bed scrambling to your room mirror, you checked your appearance to make sure you looked fine and your hair wasn’t messy and-

you paused.

“why am i so concerned about how i look? why do i care about this?”

you slapped your face with both hands, bringing yourself back to reality when you were interrupted again, but this time by your doorbell ringing from downstairs.

making your way out of your room, you saw that your mom had already opened the door with a familiar tall figure standing in the doorway.

“oh! megumi, it’s been a while!” your mom lets megumi in with a smile, already going to the kitchen to make him some tea.

he bows politely, sitting down on the couch, now changed into a loose white t-shirt with black shorts.

“uh- theres no need to make me tea, i won’t be here for too long—“

“nonsense! you can even stay for lunch, dear megumi! i just have to prepare the last dish and—“

you finally clear your throat, standing at the middle of the stairs, catching both of their attention.

“oh, y/n! i have to go out to the grocery store for some ingredients, take care of our guest megumi, alright?” she places two cups of tea on the table in front of megumi, grabbing her keys to head out.

“wait, mom—“

she sends you a wink by the door, already outside before you can finish your sentence.

you sigh in defeat, sitting across from megumi on the other couch.

“here.”

megumi pulls out a black hair tie from his pocket, almost identical to the one currently around your wrist.

you raise your eyebrows in suspicion at the hair tie. “but i only have one? and i didn’t bring any extra yesterday..?” you motion to your own arm.

he looks back and forth between your wrist and the one he had in his hand, scratching his head in confusion.

“it was in our hotel room, so i assumed it was yours.” he shrugs, placing it on the table. “but if it isn’t, i can just throw it away.”

you hum, taking a sip of the tea your mom prepared as he does the same, cringing as the still hot tea burns his tongue.

“pfft…”

he glares at you, placing the cup down as his eyes scan around your living room, taking in the decorations.

“i’ll just keep it then, it seems new.” you take the forgotten hair tie on the table, and wear it around your wrist, now decorated with two black hair ties.

he nods, sitting back against the couch, silence falling between you both.

a question suddenly popped up in your mind, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“you came all the way here… just to give me a hair tie?”

the question seems to set him a little nervous, clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact as he fidgets in his seat.

“well— i figured i’d return it to you before i forgot,” he shrugs, reaching out to take another sip of his tea before pulling back quickly again at the heat.

you nod slowly, still unconvinced with his answer. who goes all the way to someone’s house to return a hair tie?

“okay then, see you on monday?” you get up, ready to send him back off.

his head snaps up, still not moving in his seat as he opens his mouth slowly, as if unsure of how to respond.

“um- i thought your mom said i could stay…for lunch…?”

he averts his eyes, pink dusting his pale cheeks as he looks away. your mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape as you recall your mom’s words and those were - in fact what she had said.

it wasn’t that you were against him staying for lunch, but you two weren’t even friends or remotely close at that. rivals would even suit you both better than friends.

“but if you want i can, uh, leave now,” he starts to stand, looking uncomfortable in his position across from you.

it was then that you remembered megumi’s background, that his mother had left early at birth, plus his father wasn’t exactly present.

you couldn’t imagine living without your parents, and how lonely he must be without true family.

“no! i mean, that’s not what i meant, you can stay.” you sputter out before he gets the wrong idea.

his eyes seem to light up at your words, nodding before sitting back down on his previous spot on the couch.

you glance over at the time on your phone, it had been around 7 minutes after your mom had left.

the tension was thick in the room, and just when you thought you were about to explode from the awkwardness, he finally breaks the silence.

“do you… play that?”

you turn to where his eyes are placed on, seeing your black xbox console laying on top of a cabinet, having been untouched for a while.

“oh that? yeah, occasionally, why?”

you hear a snicker from beside you, snapping your head to find his lips curled into a teasing grin.

“oh, i just didn’t think a nerd like you would play games.”

you raise your eyebrows at his words. “you sure about that? it doesn’t seem like you’re very good at games either, megumi.” you make sure to stretch out each three syllables of his name to tease him further.

he huffs while leaning back, still maintaining intense eye contact with you, almost challenging each other to say something back.

“how about this, whoever wins against the other gets to make them do whatever they want. no matter what it is.” he nods over to the console, tilting his head as he waits for your response.

you chuckle, standing up to take the console, fiddling with it for a moment before turning back to him.

“alright, just don’t cry when you lose too much, okay?”

he shrugs, smirking as he looks around the living room for the other console, making you remember something.

“oh, the other console plus a TV is in my room, wanna just play there?”

he stiffens suddenly, before nodding slowly and following you upstairs to your room.

reaching the door, you suddenly stop, making megumi grunt and come to a stop, almost crashing into you.

“uh - wait here.”

you open the door just enough to slip inside, quickly gathering some of your belongings and cleaning as much as you could, to at least make your room seem presentable.

“okay!” you open the door for megumi, who makes no move to enter at first.

“...”

“you can come in.”

“... is this okay?”

you cock your head, not understanding his question.

“your mom isn’t home.”

“...so?”

“we’re alone.”

“and?”

“i’m… going into your room.”

“what is your point?” you began to grow frustrated at this conversation. then, it hit you all of a sudden.

“ahh, megumi? have you never been in a girl’s room alone before?” you snicker, shaking your head from laughter.

he starts to protest, before quickly closing his mouth and finally entering your room.

you connect the two consoles into your TV in your room, sitting down on the edge of your bed as you load up the games on the screen.

“you can sit here if you want,” you pat the empty spot next to you, to which he carefully sits down on, taking one console from your hand.

“ready?”

he nods, as you start the game.

-- --

“what--?!”

you throw your hands up in frustration, groaning as you flop backwards on the bed.

“i told you, you can’t beat me.” megumi chuckles, dodging a stuffed bear you threw in his direction.

you huffed, sitting back up, determined to beat him at least once.

“one last rematch!”

he lets out a laugh, a rare one that you think you might just never forget, and starts the game again.

after a few minutes of intense clicking, yelling and laughing, you let out a proud shout, the word victory flashing across your screen.

you pick up another stuffed animal from your bed and toss it straight at megumi’s face, celebrating as he lets out an ‘oof’ and glare back at you.

“but i still won around, 7 times, so i get to make you do something- oof-” he stumbles back again from another stuffed animal to the face.

“hmm? i don’t know what you’re talking about--” you pretend to not have heard him before your vision goes momentarily black from a soft object hitting your face, a pink bear landing in your lap.

“hey!”

“what, you keep throwing them at me!”

“fine…”

“hey, why are you getting so close--!”

you tackle megumi backwards onto the bed, throwing your pillows at his face -- not very gently -- as he tries to shield his arms in vain.

“ahh—! okay, okay, i’m sorry, stop it—“ he huffs as you finally stops your attack, his dark blue orbs looking up into yours.

you only now noticed your close proximity, quickly sitting back up to create some distance between the both of you. he clears his throat, fiddling with one of your pillows.

“well, a loss is a loss, what do i have to do?” you sigh, admitting your defeat.

“hmm…” he seems to be lost in deep thought, probably trying to find the worst thing he can make you do.

after a few silent, intense seconds, he finally speaks.

“are you… free tomorrow?”

you turn to him, giving him a questioning look at his strange question. he only stares back at you in response, awaiting your answer.

“um… yeah, i’m free the whole day, why do you as-“

“come watch a movie with me tomorrow.” he blurts out quickly, not even letting you finish your sentence.

you gape at him, still processing his words, unsure if you had heard wrong.

“... sorry?”

his face was reddenning by the second, yet his eyes remained firmly on yours the whole time.

“let’s go watch the new movie in the theater. i heard it’s quite popular already despite releasing only last week.”

“oh… okay, i can ask nobara if she wants to com-“

“don’t!” he says a little too loudly, clearing his throat after as he regains his composure.

“i mean, i- just, you.”

“just.. us?”

he nods.

silence fell again between the two of you, unsure if he was asking you what you thought he was asking you. you decide to test the waters cautiously.

“man.. it’s almost like you’re asking me out on a date, megumi?” you tease lightly, expecting a ‘tch’ or an, ‘as if’.

“so what if i am?”

now that was an answer you weren’t expecting.

“you’re.. joking, right?”

megumi sighs, moving closer until his body was mere centimeters away from yours.

“i’m serious.”

“do you... like me or something?”

he stares at you blankly. “would i ask you on a date if i didn’t have feelings for you, idiot?”

you only just realize how stupid your question sounded, trying to find a response until he reaches up to cup your cheek with one hand.

they felt soft, yet slightly gruff from constant training and fighting, large enough to cover one half of your face. they were warm, slightly trembling probably from nervousness, yet made you wish he’d never take it off.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to. we can forget this ever happened.” his own cheeks turning slightly pink, yours probably even worse as the space between your faces closed in slowly.

“but i don't think i can do this anymore, so just let me be a little selfish this once, okay?”

barely registering his words before he moves in to kiss you, soft lips moving against the other as his hand tightens against the side of your cheek. you barely register your own actions anymore, hands reaching up to tangle themselves in his hair, moving down to his neck, and finally finding home cupped around his face.

he groans against your lips, pressing you down until he was now hovering above you, never breaking the kiss even once in the process. you lost track of how long you both had been making out in your bed before you hear the front door open from downstairs.

frantically, the both of you separated in fear of your mom catching you in the act, catching your breaths while still processing what just happened.

you hear shuffling from downstairs, standing up to escape megumi before you were pulled back into a warm chest.

“wait—“ his arms wrap around you to trap you from leaving his grasp, your eyes looking everywhere but his, and suddenly your wall was the most interesting thing in sight.

“are we… really going to pretend that didn’t happen?” you finally gather the courage to look him in the face, almost melting at the soft pout set on his (now slightly redder than before) lips.

“ilikeyoutoo.” you get out quickly before you lose the chance to say it again.

he stiffens against you, eyes lighting up almost like an excited puppy receiving treats. “you like me? i didn’t hear you, so can you say it again?”

you huff, trying to wriggle your way out of his arms, only resulting in him pulling you closer to sit on his lap. he presses his forehead to yours, chuckling at your futile attempt to escape.

“i said— i like you—!” you ram your head into his, making him groan in pain, loosening his hold on you. the perfect chance for escape.

you saw the opportunity, dashing to the door, twisting the knob, almost getting it open until—

“nope,” megumi’s hand stops the door in time, instead twisting you around until your back was now flat against the wood, both of his palms placed beside your head.

“y/n? megumi?” your mom’s voice calls from downstairs, but all you could hear was your heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest.

“megumi! move, my mom’s home,” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away to no avail.

he grabs your pushing hand and places it on the left side of his chest, letting you feel the soft but fast thumping of his heart, almost matching the pace of your own.

“this is all your fault. you’re not gonna take responsibility for it?” he inches closer to your burning face, making you huff and grab his face.

you press your lips to his, feeling him immediately return the kiss, but you pull away after a few seconds, leaving him still trying to kiss you again.

“nope, my mom’s home, and i’m hungry.”

you open the door, seeing your mom begin to set the table with plates of food downstairs. you look back at megumi, who still looked sad after getting his kiss cut short.

sighing, you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together before pulling him down the stairs.

“come on, it’s time for lunch. you’ll get more later.”

you feel him perk up, giving your hand a squeeze as he follows close behind.

you steal a glance at your wrist, still wearing both the hair ties. good thing he hadn’t noticed you stuffing one into his bag this morning.

[silver-pieces]

onto you

Pairing: Misty Knight x gn!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Synopsis: Your double life as a criminal mastermind, and the partner of a cop, reaches a breaking point when Misty starts to suspect you.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT READ OR INTERACT, smut (FF, kissing, oral), angst, criminal activities, bittersweet ending

A/N: Day 13 of Marvel Girlfriend May - omg I am SO behind but you know what?? I’m going to keep going. I just finished watching Season 2 of Luke Cage and it should come as no surprise that I LOVE Misty!! Anyway here’s 2.6k of angst with her! I hope you enjoy ^_^

Divider ❊ Masterlist ❊ More Misty ❊ Taglist

Misty enters the club with one goal: to get a peek behind the curtain.

The precinct doesn’t have much on this place, nothing except rumours of something shady going on behind the scenes. Still, something in her gut tells her she needs to investigate.

The place has been recently renovated - the derelict warehouse transformed into a low-lit club with an elevated stage in the centre of the room. A modern jazz band keeps the energy high with their vibrant riffs and low bass.

She situates herself to the side of the room at first, keen eyes getting a lay of the land.

It’s pure luck that your bartender recognises her as a cop. Her robotic arm is well-concealed, but he recognises her face from a bust she headed up a few weeks ago.

You thank him for the heads-up, and order him to go back to the bar and act like nothing is wrong.

Once he leaves, you bring up the security cameras and flick through them closely.

Shit. Misty. You knew the cops had caught your scent, but out of all the cops at the Harlem precinct, why did they have to send your girlfriend?

You check your phone - no new texts from her. She thinks you’re working late across town.

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself, massaging your temples. You have to do something. Your finger hovers over her number as you debate calling her.

Movement on the screen catches your attention - she’s weaving through the club, towards the back rooms where your office is. Double fuck.

You press the comm in your ear that links you to the guards stationed around the place. “There’s a detective here. Do not let anyone into the back rooms, copy?”

A round of confirmations sound off as they each respond.

You force yourself to breathe and lean back in your chair to relax.

On the screen, Misty gets closer and closer. You can see her sizing up the guards, a calculating look on her face that you recognise well.

Oh, she’s good. You’ve never seen your girlfriend in action like this before.

It’s less entertaining, however, when she slips past your guards with ease moments later.

You jerk out of your seat. No.

A million calculations rush through your head. There’s no time to stop her now, she’ll reach this room before your guards can stop her.

So you take your laptop and your bag and run.

Whoever designed this place is smart. They had been prepared for this exact situation, able to make a fast exit, while leaving no incriminating evidence behind, not even a fingerprint.

Misty tries to reconstruct the scene in her mind based off of what she knows. Someone was in here recently - the faint whiff of perfume in the air is proof of that. The scent is strangely familiar.

But it’s not enough. Something is off about this whole thing, and she can’t put her finger on it.

In her experience, most mob boss types prefer to sit pretty and hide behind the law. So why did this one run?

Her train of thought is interrupted by the buzzing of her phone.

A text from you blinks up at her.

Just finished work. Takeout for dinner?

She quickly types out a response.

As long as it’s not street kebabs again. I’ll be home soon.

She decides to leave reporting back at the precinct until tomorrow, eager to get home to you. There’s much to say anyway.

Sneaking back out past the guards is almost as easy as getting past them in the first place. The security here could do with some serious upgrading. Either that, or they’re playing some kind of game she hasn’t figured out yet.

She heads straight home, distracted by her own thoughts, pulling at threads and turning over suspicions in her mind, sinking deeper and deeper into her detective mindset.

It’s only when she gets inside and catches sight of you, waiting for her, that the thoughts finally take a break.

“Hey,” you say, smiling coyly at her as you hold out a flute of champagne.

She sets her bag down and takes off her coat, surprised at your actions. You’ve lived together for a while now, and never have you waited for her at the door like this. Still, she can’t deny she is relieved to see you after such an unsatisfying end to her day. “Hi.”

You hand her the drink as she approaches. “How was work?”

She frowns. “It was a little weird, actually yeah.” She goes over the scene again. The back office, abandoned only moments before she got there. Something about it just nags at her. She blinks, and looks away. “But we don’t need to get into it now.”

You take her by the wrist and lift her glass to yours, clinking them together. There’s a look in your eyes she can’t quite figure out.

“Cheers,” you say with a grin, before taking a sip. “Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold.” Then, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek, your murmur in her ear, “you look amazing, by the way.” She’s still in the outfit she wore to the club, a skintight dress that shows off her curves in all the right places.

As you move away to take a seat, a faint whiff of your perfume drifts through the air. And your scent sparks a memory.

Misty freezes.

No.

You can see the red and blue lights outside your club from a distance as you turn down the street. A quick concealed call to your head of security confirms all of your fears - a warrant has been issued to search the entire warehouse under suspicion of criminal activity.

Shit.

There’s more than proof of your criminal activity in there - there’s proof of you. Sure, purchasing the club under a false identity might throw off a normal bunch of cops, but not her. Not your brilliant, sharp-witted, detective lover.

You blink away tears you didn’t even realise had begun to creep up on you. Three weeks since she came to your club, three weeks of keeping your guard up just in case she returned. But she never did.

Finally, just for a moment, you had allowed yourself to believe you might have gotten away with it. That things between you and Misty could stay as they were - happy.

Street-light streaks by the windows as you push down the accelerator, but you barely take in your surroundings. Your mind is going through the past few weeks, reassessing every interaction with Misty. Every touch given, every word spoken, every passing glance.

If she doesn’t know it’s you, you can slip away before she has the chance to find out. But if she knows it’s you, if she’s known this whole time... Your knuckles go white as you grip the steering wheel harder.

The house is dark - just as you left it.

The car idles, and you allow yourself a second in the car to breathe. You go over the options in your mind, second guessing everything, and coming to the same conclusion. Misty will find you out if she hasn’t already. You have to leave.

You slip in through the front door, moving silently in the dark. But the light from the street allows you enough to see by, so when you turn, you instantly notice something out of place.

The bag you came for, the bag stuffed full of cash and a new fake ID, is sitting on the table, unzipped.

“Freeze.”

She points her gun at you despite every fibre of her being fighting against it. The thought of pulling the trigger kills her, despite your betrayal.

“Misty,” you say in greeting, slowly raising your hands in the air. There’s none of that warmth in your gaze now.

“Don’t,” Misty grits out. Every moment spent by your side these past few weeks has been like torture. Knowing you’ve been lying to her about everything - is this coldness, this calculating persona, the real you?

You take a step towards her anyway, rounding the table. The harsh light of the street casts sharp shadows across your face and for a moment the sight of you takes her breath away.

She can’t bear it. “I said, don’t.” She angles her head at you, warning in her eyes.

It seems to work, because you pause. Your gaze flicks to the bag on the table. The one she found weeks ago. “How long have you known, baby?”

Misty blinks. Baby. You called her baby... like the two of you are still... No. “You are under arrest.”

That seems to get through to you. For a brief moment, a wave of satisfaction fills her, as realisation dawns in your eyes, and you swallow in fear, and she knows she’s caught you.

But that moment shifts into tension as you regain your footing. “I’m not going with you,” you say, shaking your head. Your eyes dart to the bag again.

She takes a step forward, closing the distance, keeping her gun between you. “Yes you are.” Damn, her game is off. She doesn’t usually let suspects talk so much. A part of her wonders if her boss was right, and she should have let someone else do the arresting. But she knew it had to be her. You’re her responsibility now. “Hands behind your back.”

But you don’t obey, standing stubbornly still.

She gets close enough that the end of the gun presses into your chest. “Get your hands. Behind. Your. Back.”

You give an almost imperceptible shake of your head.

Being this close to you is killing her. All the moments of intimacy you two have shared, pulling you together again like a taut golden thread. The look in your eyes tells her you feel the same.

One word, one she’s not even sure she means, slips out. “Please.”

You peer into her tear-filled eyes, and then drop your gaze to her lips, leaning in close, allowing her gun to dig in further. “You’ll have to kill me.” Your voice is quiet, but strong.

Her finger braces on the trigger, and she tells herself not to give in, but the thought of hurting you instantly crumbles her resolve. She lowers the gun. “No,” she whimpers, and turns away, hiding her face in shame as the tears begin to fall.

Then, she feels your fingers cup her by the chin, turning her face up. Before she can truly react, your lips are on hers.

Misty breaks. She doesn’t question it, she just opens her lips and lets you in fully, your tongue brushing against hers and swirling as you deepen the kiss. It’s a goodbye kiss, one filled with anger and pain and regret, and Misty moans into it. Her arms come around your waist possessively.

You embrace it, your front colliding against hers and pushing her further with a strength she didn’t think you capable of. A brief thought hits her - it’s like she’s getting to know you for the first time ever. Then, her mind goes blank again, because you’re pushing her back, onto the table.

Her back hits the table, but her head falls back on something tough and loose - your bag. A few bundles of cash slide out and land on the table. Blood money.

“Misty,” you call to her.

She looks up at you, breathless and looking down at her from above, like a dark angel with bad intentions.

“Stay with me.” You say it like an order, and then you’re kneeling down between her legs and pulling her clothes off.

She allows you to, despite some part of her gut telling her this is wrong. Any second now, a parade of police officers could burst through the door and - 

You lift her legs over your shoulders in a smooth motion and pull her thighs until her pussy is at the edge of the table, right in front of your face. More bundles of your money slide out of the back, following her motion.

You pin her with a dark look. One that in all your time together, you’ve never showed her before.

“Who  - ” Misty tries to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. “Who are you?”

An unreadable expression washes over your face. You reach up and press your hand down on her abdomen, pinning her to the table. “I’ve lied about many things. But I promise, baby, I truly am your lover.”

She goes to respond, but then you lean in and lick her pussy so thoroughly her eyes roll back and all that comes out is a gasp.

“Fuck,” you moan into her wetness. “Last time I ever get to taste this pussy, and I swear it’s the sweetest it’s ever been.” And you delve back in, clearly determined to explore every inch of her pussy.

But Misty is suddenly furious. Last time. Her hand reaches for your head, intending to pull you away, but you go faster now, sending pleasure arcing through her veins and forcing her to pull you in closer to her weeping folds. “Fuck. You.” This is all your fault.

You emit a decadent, luxurious moan, rumbling against her clit.

Her free arm swings up behind her, as she is hit with a sudden climax. She reaches up for a grip, and only ends up disturbing your bag full of money further as her orgasm overtakes her.

“Oh - my - god!” she cries out, the sensation of your tongue laving against her clit stoking the heat she feels inside into a raging bonfire of bliss. Stacks of money pile out of the back and onto the table around her, some even hitting the floor, but she couldn’t care less.

Not when she has you greedily licking and sucking her to full completion.

I promise, baby, I truly am your lover. “You liar,” she moans. You’ve never made her come this hard. You hid this skill - this passion - from her, and goddamn she wants to slap you for it. If only for now showing her what she’s been missing this whole time.

Her orgasm finally fades, and instead of cuddling in bed like your normal routine used to be, you just wipe your face, give her a scorching look, and start picking up the piles of money that have fallen around her limp, drained form.

Misty can’t even think, let alone speak. Her gun lies on the floor somewhere. She could probably reach for it now, while you’re busy preparing to leave. But the high of her orgasm hasn’t faded yet, and she can’t bring herself to face reality.

Finally, the sound of you zipping up your bag jars her out of her haze. She pushes herself up on unsteady limbs, rounding to face you. Her bare legs feel the chill of the night closing in.

You hoist the bag over your shoulder and meet her gaze, a look of pain in your eyes that quickly shifts into a steely coldness.

Misty blinks. If this is it, and you’re leaving, she doesn’t think she could stand it if you didn’t say anything. But she can’t think of anything to say that might sum up what she’s feeling.

Apparently, neither can you. After a moment, you turn away and make for the door in silence.

But as you open it, you pause.

Then, you turn back to her, and nod.

And she hears you murmur to yourself, “One hell of a goodbye.” before the door swings shut behind you.

[jeongvision]

here's my request for the made-up fic title: ✨ before and after ✨

synopsis. how is it that the infamous player in your neighborhood managed to get sexually involved with a sweet and innocent girl like you? and who knew how much of a good girl you are to jung jaehyun?

pairing. bad boy! jung jaehyun ✗ innocent! fem! reader

genre. smut

warnings. cursing, sexual themes (unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), corruption kink, praise kink, cum play, creampie, size kink, marking)

author’s note: omg my mind went FERAL for this one so i may have went a lil overboard with this even though it’s supposed to be a blurb LOL (and again, apologies if the header looks a little weird! made it on my phone again) a short smut is under the cut!

Word has it that there’s a college dropout in your neighborhood, and that is none other than Jung Jaehyun.

Growing up, he was the boy who you grew up being close friends with, sharing games and secrets with one another only to be estranged from him once you both entered high school. He got involved with an entirely different group of friends that you weren’t used to, and you got involved with your own group of friends, so it was only natural that you two drifted apart; nothing could make up for the differences you two had. But one thing you’ve noticed when he started hanging out with his crowd is that he had also started to change: he became more outgoing, daring to the point of getting involved with the law a few times, and has a handful of tattoos visible on his body, especially the one prominent on his neck for the whole world to see. And of course, his looks could undisputedly make anyone alike drop on their knees for him, mercy lying only in his two bare hands.

Some hailed him as the ‘King of Hearts’ for he is notoriously known to have bedded countless women, luring them all in by just a flash of his dimples he was born with, only for him to blatantly ghost them the next morning. Ironic, isn’t it? How a sweet and loving boy you grew up with turned out to be such a womanizing deviant? He was someone you secretly admired, and someone who you hopefully wished to have spent the rest of your life with. Hell, you don’t even know if you see him in your future.

And yet here you are in his bedroom, having also fallen victim to his charms, becoming one of many other women to have succumbed to his sinful and desirous touches. Only this time, he doesn’t see you as all the others. In fact, the day that you two approached one another for the first time in years, he wasn’t the one who proposed for a night filled with carnivorous lust. Instead, it was actually you. You missed him, to put it plainly. And with you, he finds himself being more careful with you, scared almost; afraid that he might break you if he were to make the wrong move. You were someone he cherished when he was younger, his first true friend, and the fact you asked to spend the night with him, knowing full well of his reputation, he couldn’t believe it.

“Touch me, Jaehyun,” you begged, “wreck me, make me yours.”

And he obliges.

After all, whatever his baby girl wants, his baby girl gets.

His thick cock glides easily into your core, a guttural groan emanating from his throat as he feels you swallow him whole. “Fuck, baby,” he moans, “you’re so fucking tight around me. Shit!” You mewl as he deliciously stretches you out, your arms tightening around his neck as he buries himself deep into your dripping pussy. He filled you up to the hilt, the tip of his dick almost kissing your cervix, making you almost cum right then and there.

He places a gentle kiss on your neck before lightly nibbling on your skin, sending your mind into a delirium. “Baby, you’re so good to me,” he breathes, “so fucking tiny, so fucking beautiful to me.” His words made you tremble underneath him, your eyes rolling back. He slowly penetrates in and out of your soaking core, each thrust knocking the air out of you. You bite back your moans, too embarrassed to let him hear how every brush of his skin against yours inflamed you.

He notices how your teeth are sunken into your swollen lips, trapping the melodies within. With a tight grip on your hips, he quickened his pace, every movement from him sending you to seventh heaven and letting out shaking gasps.

He grunts in between his thrusts, “That’s it, baby. Let all the neighbors know how much of a good girl you are.”

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it (i’m not taking any more requests! thank you all so much for playing with me <3)

[floverful]

THE FEELS － FIVE﹒YES WAY

、→﹐synopsis - the winter season has always brought you joy. ice skating with your friends has always been your favorite part. but one day on your weekly visit, an unfamiliar face showed up. omg love at first sight !!!!! this was someone you definitely wanted to get to know. the more you saw him, the more your feelings for him grew. but those feelings shatter when one day you see him dragging a girl along the ice with a smile on his face. →﹐pairing - park sunghoon x fem!reader →﹐genre - smau, high school au, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers →﹐warnings - none ! →﹐taglist - @abdiitcryy @softforqiankun @ncityy04 @tomorrowbymoa-together @babygay-stay @nycol-ie @enhacolor ﹒﹒ send an ask to be put in the taglist !

yoon, yeji, yuna, and mina walked through the doors of the restaurant you all agreed to meet at before going to the rink. you wanted to be together from the beginning, so you wouldn't have to wait for people to come. they looked around, spotting you, nayeon, and chaeyoung sitting at a table with 4 open seats and walked over. they gave their greetings and sat down. "soo..." mina began, a menacing smile on her face. this got you worried. you knew she was going to mention the boy, and ask what you were going to say to him. they were all going to ask a million questions, and if you were being honest you didn't know the answer to any of them. you didn't know when you would approach him, or where for that matter. you DEFINITELY weren't going to try to talk to him in front of his friends. if you did, so many things could go wrong. you could either be completely embarrassed, or the opposite. but, you really weren't ready to take the chance. as for what you would say to him, you really didn't know. anything you could possibly say would still make the whole situation awkward, and to make things worse, you had no idea what his personality is like. you don't even know his name, how would you have a conversation with him without knowing anything about him? "if the boy is at the rink, would you talk to him?" mina finished. of course she brought him up. you knew it was going to pop up sometime. would you talk to him? you weren't sure. but, it's better to do it now rather than never. "yes" you answered. "what would i say though" you said, dropping your face into your hands. "i've been thinking about it and i still don't know." "you don't need a script yn, just play along with it i promise it'll be better that way" nayeon sympathized. "ok.." you said, unsure of what's going to happen. you all got up to leave after eating and paying. when you walked out the door, your stomach churned. you were nervous. and you weren't even sure if he was going to be there. there's a chance you would be nervous for no reason. the whole car ride there you were silent. thinking about every possibility to come. if this all goes well, you could end up being friends with him or more. but if it all goes wrong, you would be embarrassed, and live in regret. you knew you were overthinking, but you couldn't stop yourself. you couldn't find a place in the girl's conversation - to be honest, you didn't really want to. chaeyoung pulled up into the lot, mina following after. once you all got out of the cars, you made your way to the entrance. your arms were hooked with yuna and mina. they were both excited and it was obvious by how they shook you and squealed as soon as you walked in. "are you ready yn?" yeji asked you, while everyone else was watching, waiting for an answer. "yes i guess" you responded. you all proceeded walking to the front desk to check out skates. you see soobin standing with his back towards you finding the right size skates for the woman and her child standing next to your group. you recall last weeks event and groan, but what's the point in being embarrassed forever. you greet him with a smile and move on. while you're all sitting on the bench tying your skates, you hear nayeon gasp. she starts aggressively shaking your shoulder, repeating your name over and over again. "yn look ! on the rink !" she whisper shouts, catching the other girl's attention. you all look to where she was pointing, only to be met with the sight of the same group of boys from last time. your eyes scouted each of their faces, searching for a particular face. and as if on cue, there it is. there he stands, laughing at his friends who were seeming to struggle, holding their arms for support so they wouldn't fall. he really was ethereal. you've only seen him once and he's got you feeling this way. he could be a complete asshole for all you know, but you were willing to take that chance. seeing his face made you sure of it. you were going to talk to him, and you were going to do it today. you hurried your friends onto the ice and started skating, trying

to act chill. in reality, you wanted to look pretty to him. you wanted him to look at you how you looked at him the first time you saw him. you weren't very focused on your friends - more focused on finding an opening to talk to him. you grew nervous the longer he stayed with his friends. you needed to talk to him today. but you needed to talk to him alone. almost as if he had read your mind, he skated towards the exit and walked off. you looked to your friends and nodded, going after him. you stepped onto the rubber-like floor and looked around, searching for any sign that would lead you to where he went. you remembered what yuna once told you : "when in doubt look for a route. route starts with the letter r. what else starts with the letter r? right. therefore, always go right." it was stupid and you knew it - but you really had no other options. you went to the right and walked slowly down the hallway just incase he walked out of some sort of door. your heart sank when you got to the end of the hallway without seeing any sort of sign that his presence is around you. maybe i went the wrong way. what if i missed my only chance to get him alone? i guess it's for the best, i didn't know what to say to him anyways.. you thought. you walked back in the direction you came from looking at your feet. you didnt notice someone open a door in front of you due to your head overflowing with thoughts and doubts. it really wasnt that big of a deal, you would probably see him another time. but you had to admit you were kind of excited to finally talk to him. your trail of thoughts were interrupted when you bumped into something in front of you. you whipped your head up, confused - surprisingly to meet eyes with exactly who you wanted to meet eyes with. there he stood. right in front of you. you must’ve looked at each other in silence for too long, because he cleared his throat and looked away. “sorry” you mumbled, looking down again. you were freaking out to say the least. you couldn’t look up, but you didn’t want him to leave. “it’s ok” he responded, turning back around to continue on his way back to the rink. “wait” you said, a slight hint of desperation in your tone. he turned back around with a puzzled look on his face. “yeah?” “i saw the way you were skating over there, i thought you did really good.” you said with a smile. you felt weird. what if he thought you were weird? “oh yeah? thanks!” he replied, awkwardly scratching his neck. “are you good at skating?” he questioned, stepping closer, getting rid of the awkward distance between you two. “i like to say i am..” you laughed. “i’m definitely better than my friends.” you added. “yeah same” he laughed along. you both walked back to your friends together laughing about who knows what. “oh what’s your name by the way?” you asked him, as you were both about the go back to your friends. “park sunghoon, what about you?” he responded. “oh i’m yn” you answered. you really couldn’t believe this was happening right now. all of that time spent overthinking and worrying was for nothing. and he wasn’t an asshole, he really was the perfect guy. “well, we should get back to our friends now” he said waving, about to leave again. “wait can i have your number if that’s ok?” you asked. he stopped and turned around to look at you again. “yeah sure, type in your number” he said pulling out his phone and handing it to you. you filled out the information and gave it back, smiling wide. “i’ll text you later yn!” he said, finally skating back to his friends. you follow his actions and skate back to your friends, who were standing there with their jaws dropped. “no way.” mina said, obviously shocked. “YES WAY.” you squealed.

✿﹒previous﹒#﹒next﹒✦﹒masterlist authors note : FINALLY WE'RE BACK ON TRACK. expect kinda slow updates this week i start school today. maybe like every 1-3 days. also that isnt an actual yuna quote sadly i made that up on the spot

[helnjk]

A Change of Scenery - C.W.

Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Requested: yes!

omg hi! I just saw the fanart of the oldest Weasley brothers(🥵🥵🥵) and was hoping you could do a Charlie x reader thing? Maybe the reader is a healer at the sanctuary and Charlie doesn't mind getting hurt because he gets to see her but she literally has no idea he adores her till he spells it out. With promt 42 of your list maybe? Totally cool if you want to leave it out 😁 love you and your work! -🍄

“what the hell were you thinking?”

Word count: 3.1k 

Summary: moving to romania for your absolute dream job, you did not expect to meet a cheeky, flirty redhead along the way. 

Warnings: mentions of injuries, food, & drinks. charlie is a dragon tamer, reader is a healer, of course he’s going to end up with a few cuts and bruises. 

A/N: god i love charlie weasley with all of my heart. that is all. 

prompt is in bold

-

Being connected to and living somewhere very in tune with the earth had always been a dream of yours. It just so happened that your new job had you transferred to the perfect place: Romania. 

Sure, it was quite far from England and had quite a different culture, but the beauty of the mountains and the picturesque scenery made up for it. The fact that you were also working in one of the best medical wings in the country, on a dragon reserve on top of that, was basically your dream come true. 

“Alright, and this right here is your station,” announced the head healer, who insisted you call him Gerry, gesturing to a decently sized office space. “You can decorate it anyway you like, as long as it’s appropriate. Most of the folks around here aren’t locals either, so we’ve got loads of photos up and lots of owls coming in and out everyday.” 

“It’s perfect,” you grinned. 

Gerry left you alone to get settled, and you didn’t want to admit it to anyone, but the first thing you did once he was out of earshot was to squeal excitedly and do a little happy dance. 

It was just all too exciting, really. Dream job, dream location, dream view even. After your burst of excitement, you spent a bit of time just staring out of the window, taking in everything. In the distance, you could even see the silhouette of a dragon peeking over the canopy of trees. The fact that this was going to be a regular occurrence just spurred even more delight in your heart. 

Later in the day, after most of the introductions were made and tours were finished, you could be found familiarizing yourself with the medical wing of the sanctuary. 

“C’mon Gerry, I’m completely fine!” you heard a gruff voice complain. It was coming from the hallway outside, but the accompanying footsteps sounded as if they were on the way to the wing. 

“You know it’s protocol, Weasley,” a very amused Gerry replied as they rounded the corner. 

Beside your boss was one of the most gorgeous men you had ever laid eyes on. With wind ruffled hair the color of sunsets and lightly tanned skin, you almost didn’t notice the small, almost inconspicuous limp he was sporting. It also took you a few seconds to realize that he was probably one of the dragon tamers of the reserve, the first one you were going to meet and treat, it seemed. 

“Ah, Healer L/N, perfect!” Gerry called out to you, “This is Charlie Weasley, one of our on-site dragon tamers.”

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled, holding out his hand for you to shake. 

“You too,” you said in reply, trying not to think about how warm and calloused his hand was in yours. 

“His leg got swiped by the tail of a Chinese Fireball,” Gerry explained as he motioned to the leg that Charlie wasn’t putting much of his weight on.

You could see the redhead roll his eyes, “Honestly, I’ll be fine! This has happened more times than you know.” 

Despite his best efforts, both you and Gerry managed to get Charlie to take a seat on one of the beds that lined the wall. With a sigh, he rolled up his trousers just enough for you to see the area of the wound. 

“Lucky for you, treating this doesn’t take much time,” you smiled. Swiftly, you took your wand out and muttered the correct incantation, “There. Good as new!” 

“If I get to be under the care of Ms. L/N here, I wouldn’t mind getting injured more often,” he flirted, sending you a cheeky wink. 

Gerry just guffawed a loud belly laugh, patting Charlie on the shoulder fondly, “Don’t you go running off with one of my best healers now, Weasley. We just got her!” 

“Don’t worry, Gerry,” you smiled, “I think this one’s too injury-prone to run anywhere.” 

–

As the last work day of your first week at the reserve was coming to an end, you were surprised to see Charlie Weasley knocking on the open door to your office. 

“Hey,” you said, sending him a small smile.

“Hey,” he parroted, stepping inside. 

“Anything I can help you with?” you asked over your shoulder while putting away the last of your files and slipping out of your healer robes, “You’re not injured again are you?” 

Behind you, Charlie gulped as he saw the little sundress you wore underneath. His head spun at the sight of your exposed legs and he nearly forgot what he was about to say. 

“Nah I’ve got a better track record than that, thankfully,” he chuckled. Doing his best to keep the calm facade he had going on, he leant against the doorframe as he asked, “Got any plans tonight? I was wondering if you’d fancy getting a bite to eat.” 

You were caught off guard by how nonchalant and straightforward his invitation was.

“Is this your way of asking me on a date?” you asked, finally turning around to face him once again. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Do you want it to be? Because I just wanted to be a nice person and show you around Romania, but if you’re looking for a date…” 

“Oh shut it, Weasley,” you groaned, “The tab is on you tonight, then.” 

Charlie sent you a grin as you strode out of your office. Despite your faux-annoyance, you were happy to have someone show you around. Being a healer was your dream job, but it did have some setbacks. Obviously, you were needed at the medical wing of the reserve for the majority of the week and that didn’t give you much time to familiarize yourself with the town and the people. 

Because of how remote the reserve was, most staff and employees lived on site. There was a designated area for the many different cabins and living quarters. To give you more of a tour of the little Romanian town nearest the reserve, Charlie offered to side-along apparate you. 

You could feel heat creep up your neck and spread along your cheeks as you gripped firmly on to his muscular arm. 

The sun was just about to set and cast gorgeous hues of orange and pink across the sky as the two of you landed just outside the town. Charlie led you along, showing you where the most important areas were; you saw the town square, the little street bazaars, and the most popular eating places. 

By the time the pair of you got to one of his favorite restaurants, a quaint little place in one of the sidestreets, your cheeks were sore from laughing too much. After the initial awkwardness as you tried to navigate topics that interested the both of you, you found yourselves chatting away animatedly. 

“Yeah, Fred and George were an absolute nightmare when they were little,” he chuckled, fondly recalling the many times he and his older brother Bill were left to babysit their younger siblings, “But they’re great. They’ve got a shop in Diagon Alley now, selling prank products of all things. It’s wild.”

“Your family sounds absolutely lovely,” you said. It warmed your heart seeing how his eyes lit up talking about them. “It must be so hard being so far away from everyone.” 

He nodded slightly before taking a sip of his drink, “Definitely. My first year here was such a big transition. I’m lucky I get to go home every so often.” 

There was a lull in the conversation as you dug into your food, but it was far from the awkward silence you were expecting. 

Maybe working in Romania wasn’t going to be so bad after all. 

–

“Why is it that when you get hurt, I’m always the healer on call?” you sighed playfully as Charlie walked through the door of the medical wing. 

It was the fourth week in a row he had to come and get something patched up. They weren’t major injuries, thankfully, but you had come to learn that the dragon tamers were required to know how to perform the basic healing spells. The things Charlie would come in for were almost always resolved with a quick episkey. 

“You know me,” he joked, taking a seat on one of the empty beds, “Always so accident prone.” 

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes. 

Still, with your wand in hand, you gestured for him to show you where the injury was. 

“I’ve got two things today,” he began. You raised your eyebrows in response. “This is the first.” 

 Charlie quickly rolled the sleeve of his top, his toned arm flexing at the movement. In all the time you had worked at the reserve, which wasn’t that long at all, you still hadn’t gotten used to how fit he was. A quick intake of breath had you re-centering and focusing on the task at hand. There was a small burn on his forearm, not enough to cause too much concern. 

You cast the charm quickly so as not to be distracted further, “There, all done.” 

“There’s still one more place that’s hurt Y/N.” 

By the way Charlie spoke, you knew he was up to something. Inwardly you sighed, “Alright, let’s get to it then.” 

Your heart seemed to stop as he began to unbutton the first few buttons of his top. 

“What’re you doing, Weasley?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure as you got a peek of his very toned chest. 

With a dramatic sigh, Charlie leant back and pointed to an area above his chest, “My heart hurts, Y/N.” 

For a moment you just stared at him, looking absolutely ridiculous in the position he chose to don, eyes blinking owlishly. Truthfully, you didn’t know whether to laugh or to send the strongest stinging hex in his direction. 

“Charlie Weasley, you thank Merlin and Morgana right now that I’m not hexing your balls off,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“I’m being serious, Y/N!” he continued, “I don’t know if I’ll survive this!” 

“Pity, does that mean I’m losing my ticket to free weekly meals?” she joked, already turning on her heel to get back to what she had been doing before he entered the wing. 

There were sounds of shuffling as if Charlie had gotten back up on his feet again and then, “Definitely not! I’m banking on those meals, one of these days you’re going to be begging me for an actual date. You’ll see.”

“Keep dreaming, Weasley.” 

You sent the redheaded dragon tamer a sarcastic smile, but he just sent you a flirty wink in reply. 

–

“Code white. Need extra hands in the medical wing ASAP.” 

The shimmering white bloodhound soon dissolved into nothing as it delivered its message to you, early one morning. You had just gotten to work, not even in your healer's robes yet, when Gerry’s patronus appeared. 

As you rushed to the medical wing, another patronus made an appearance and rattled off what had happened and who was hurt. Your heart dropped the moment you heard who you were going to be treating. 

“Oh Merlin,” you whispered to yourself the moment you saw the state Charlie was in, “What did you get yourself into?”

In all the time you had been working at the reserve and as a healer in general, it was not unusual for you to treat severe injuries. In fact, you liked to think that when you were faced with someone’s life or quality of life in your hands, you worked even harder and smarter. However, seeing Charlie more battered and bruised than you had ever seen him made your heart pound loudly in your chest. 

“Healer L/N, you’re right on time,” Gerry spoke to you clearly, rapidly explaining the situation and what you needed to do. 

In a flash, you had your wand out and were muttering all the healing spells that came to mind alongside your head healer. You didn’t notice how you were holding your breath and clenching your wandless hand until you let out a sigh of relief when Charlie began to stir. 

“He’s stable,” Gerry announced and released a breath. 

You felt a soft pat on your shoulder as he left you to deal with the patient, deeming it alright for him to step out and get back to his other responsibilities. Carefully, you walked towards the redhead whose eyes were fluttering open. 

“What the hell were you thinking, Weasley?” you murmured softly, your wand sweeping over him one last time to check is vitals. A soft hand reached out to push the stray strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face and you felt him lean into your touch. 

“Y/N?” Charlie mumbled, his eyes still half-closed. 

“I’m right here,” you said in reply. 

“What happened?” he asked, trying to prop himself up but groaning in pain. 

“What happened,” you began, going to help him get to the seated position he wanted to be in. He smiled up at you and you could barely remember what you were trying to say. With a small shake of your head and clearing of your throat you continued, “What happened was that you were being an absolute idiot who absolutely did not call for backup when a nesting mother was going on a rampage.” 

Despite his obvious discomfort, Charlie had the audacity to chuckle slightly, “Sounds about right.” 

“Don’t you dare do that to me again, Weasley,” you admonished, pulling back and shooting him the dirtiest stare you could muster. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. When I got Gerry’s patronus, all I could think about was–” 

As if an electric jolt shocked you, you cut yourself off before anything else escaped your lips. 

“Was what, Y/N?” he asked softly. 

His eyes were shining with something you couldn’t quite name, but the sincerity in his face gave you pause. 

You shook your head, “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” 

Instead of continuing to reprimand him for his foolishness, you busied yourself making sure he was comfortable and that everything was alright. The potions he needed to take later in the day and the different salves to be applied to his skin were placed on the bedside table. Pillows were summoned, fluffed, and placed behind him. 

As you shuffled around the room, purposely ignoring the redhead, his eyes were trained on you. 

The moment his eyes opened and he felt your hand brush gently across his face, he thought he had to have been dreaming. If it weren’t for the ache in his muscles and the sting of his burns, he would’ve believed that he was in some alternate reality wherein he woke up next to you every morning. 

He was tired of waiting for his fantasies to come true, he decided. 

“Y/N.” 

The way he said your name sent shivers down your spine. Your whole body froze for a microsecond before you turned to face him. 

“Yeah, Charlie?” 

“Look at me please,” he begged. 

With a deep breath, your eyes locked with his and you were almost blown away with the look on his face. 

Sincerity pooled in his eyes as they scanned your face, trying to see if your own expression gave anything away. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move or look away from him. 

“Tell me what you were thinking,” he whispered gently. 

It was now or never.

“All I could think about was how,” you gulped, taking a steadying breath, “How you could’ve died or gotten so hurt, when I hadn’t even had the chance to tell you how I felt about you.” 

You could hear Charlie’s sharp intake of breath and you had to look away, unable to face the rejection you were ultimately going to hear. 

“Y/N–” 

“And, and I know that you don’t feel the same–”

“Y/N–”

“But, just seeing you lying there–”

“Y/N!”

Charlie’s voice rang through the whole wing, a sharp contrast to the otherwise silent space. You sucked in a deep breath, surprised. 

“Y/N you have to know I’m absolutely mad for you,” he said clearly. 

You blinked furiously at him. 

“You-I, what?” 

Charlie tried to reposition himself so that he could face you properly, but you could see that he was still in a bit of pain. Instead of letting him maneuver himself uncomfortably, you placed a soft hand on his shoulder before taking a seat by his legs. 

Immediately, he went to take your hand in his. “I think you’re absolutely breathtaking, and talented, and passionate. I just haven’t had the balls to ask you out on a real date.” 

“Then what are you waiting for, Weasley?” You offered him a small smile, glancing back down at your intertwined hands. 

The smile he sent you left you breathless. 

–

“You ready to go?” Charlie asked, leaning against the doorframe with his legs crossed just like when he had visited your office that first week. 

A small grin inched its way on to your face at the sight of your boyfriend. His hair was just a tad bit windswept, adding to the rugged look he insisted he could pull off (and he definitely did, you just didn’t like feeding his ego too much). 

“Just about,” you smiled. “Let me get out of these stuffy robes first.” 

And, just like the first time he had knocked on the door to your office, you turned to shrug off your uniform and hang it up in one of the hooks beside your desk. Instead of keeping his thoughts to himself, Charlie grinned widely and whistled at the sight of you in your dress. 

Just as you were about to chide him for being inappropriate, strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards. A small ‘oof’ escaped your lips as your back made contact with Charlie’s strong chest. 

“Charlie!” you slapped his arm lightly, “C’mon, I’m still at work!” 

“What so I can’t show my girlfriend some appreciation for being absolutely drop dead gorgeous?” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses on the joint where your neck met your shoulders. 

You rolled your eyes, “You know I love a good compliment. I would just rather you do it outside my place of work.” 

With a chuckle, Charlie released his grip on your waist. “Alright, alright.” 

“Just for that, the tab’s on you tonight, Weasley.” 

“Ah so the usual, love?” 

“Of course.” 

Charlie held his hand out for you to take, and unlike the first time he took you out, you allowed yourself to blush, take his calloused hand in yours, and press a soft kiss on his lips. 

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes @cruciostyles @writingsomewrongs

Charlie taglist: @pinkypurplemagic @lifeofkaze @oldschoolkiddo

[kimnjss]

more than ready | myg

⤑ series: be my baby

⤑ pairing: rapper!yoongi x mom!reader

⤑ genre: smut!! nd fluff.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 5.6K

⤑ warnings: here we goo... cursing, dirty talk, neck kissing, hickeys, slight biting, oral sex (f. receiving), oh my god spitting, squirting, yoongi has an impreg kink, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cum inside, unintentional cock warming (he’s gotta get it in there), multiple orgasms.

⤑ A/N: so hi! this was only supposed to be just that first scene... but then i got sad that it was ending so i added more :( - so yeah ,. it took longer than i expected .  but i hope you guys really like this!! i can’t believe it’s over omg :( i’m gonna miss them sm .

⤑ impreg dialogue credit goes to @taetaewonderland​​, go check out her work, she’s soo talented!

JUNE 5TH, 2020 | 16:09 – TWO WEEKS LATER.

It had been a long day, spent lifting boxes and reorganizing your things into Yoongi's house. Not sure who was more excited about the move, Hyunki or Yoongi but both of them couldn't stop going on about how much fun they'll have now that they'd be together all the time. You were happy too, of course, felt right to be redecorating the room that you'd now be sharing with Yoongi.

Yoongi. Your man, your boyfriend. Yours. It only made sense that way. Being with him, happy with him. The two of you were made for each other and now you could finally be together. As a family.

And you didn't want it any other way.

He's laid sprawled out on his bed, watching with hooded eyes and a large smile as you arrange your clothes in his closet. All while organizing the messy clutter that came with the way he tended to carelessly toss his clothes in once they were washed. Happiness settling in his chest, paired with the domestic feeling from watching you.

Not done up like how you usually liked to walk around. Fitting sweats hanging off your round hips, one of his plain shirts swallowing your figure. Hair effortlessly framing your bare face. He felt almost privileged to get to see you like this, knowing that not many people have.

“How many of these shirts do you need?” You're asking with a slight laugh, lifting the plain white FG shirt for him to see. The shirt identical to the one that you're wearing now and the other four you had just put away.

Yoongi only shrugs, lips twitching into a smile. “They're comfortable,”

A simple roll of your eyes is your answer, folding the garment before reaching for the black one. Tiny feet pad into the room, Hyunki silently climbing onto the bed with a pout on his face. Sitting up slightly, Yoongi prepares to ask what's the matter – but Hyunki is beating him to it.

“Daddy! The batteries keep falling out.” 

Even if you hadn't been watching them, you could perfectly picture the large smile that took over Yoongi's features at hearing his son call out to him. The same smile that broke onto his face each time Hyunki was referring to him as 'Daddy' as if he was hearing it for the first time each time.

“Here, let Daddy take a look.” He speaks softly, pulling the toy from his son's hands. It's an easy fix, the back of the toy needing to be tightly secured. But Hyunki is looking at him as if he had just figured out world peace. Thanking him loudly before taking his toy back into his room.

The triumphant grin doesn't leave his lips, the entire time he's watching you walk around the room. “Did you see that?” He's asking you and you're only now realizing that he had been waiting for you to comment. 

“See what?” Playing dumb while leaned over his body on the bed, attempting to fill the bedside table with your undergarments. 

An arm swiftly wraps around your waist, tugging you down a bit so you're directly over him. “'Daddy, the batteries keep falling out',” He mimics his son's voice, smile shifting into a large one that shows off his gums. “I think I'm his hero,” He's concluding and you can't help the laugh that slips past your lips.

“You might be,”

His eyes shine at your agreement, head tilting to crash his lips onto yours. The kiss sweet, slow, all of his love and adoration being poured into every movement of his lips. He's holding you close, hands resting lightly on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin.

It's not until his lips are slipping from yours, finding your neck does the mood shift. Teeth and tongue marking up your skin, soft giggles falling from your lips, and filling your bedroom. He's pulling away only to tug down the collar of your shirt, revealing more of your neck to his greedy lips.

Fingers knitted in his hair, you're tugging at the strands slightly – eyes rolling at the soft scrape of teeth against your skin. His fingers have crept underneath the fabric of your shirt, sneaking their up toward the wire of your bra.

“Daddy! It happened again,” The screech breaks through the haze of desire that started to fog up the room. Yoongi's mouth pulling from your neck with a pop. Hyunki's call ringing from his room. “Daddy, come look!” 

There's not even a moment of hesitance before Yoongi is pressing his lips to yours quickly before lifting his body and exiting the room. A huffed, “Daddy's coming, buddy.” Falling from his lips as he exits. 

Had wanted to stay in there with you, continue to the obvious place his wandering kisses were going – but duty as a father calls. And he was more than ready to answer the call. The sound of them playing together fills your ears, a wide smile spreading across your lips as you stand from the bed.

Going back, you listen to them together – happiness filling your heart from the sound of their laughter. And you're sure nothing would ever sound as good as them.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi's voice rings from behind you. Stood in the kitchen, after putting away your clothes in his room. His arms snake around your waist, head finding your shoulder, watching as you slice out bite-size pieces.

His lips have started to suck soft kisses into the back of your neck, fingers toying with the band of your leggings. “Making a snack,” You answer, nonchalant. Trying to act like his simple touches weren't driving you insane.

“You're a snack,” He replies lamely, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. And you're convinced you're in love with this man because there's no other explanation for how a phrase like that could turn you on that much.

But of course, his ego didn't need to know that. “Aren't you supposed to be entertaining your son,” It's hard to mask the breathy tone of your voice, body reacting to the feeling of his lips on your skin, his hips pressed into the curve of your ass.

“Animal Planet came on. And after the third time he shushed me, he told me to come see what you were doing,” The snort of laughter that comes from your nose is automatic, amazed how alike the two of them were. Couldn't help but wonder if he noticed it too.

Although, his mind is somewhere else. Tongue now rolling hotly against the shell of your ear, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth while his fingers tease their way down past the elastic band. “Think I can eat my snack in the room?” Words murmured into your ear, sending a pang of arousal throughout our veins.

Your giggle is obnoxious, but you can't help it with how giddy this man makes you feel. Head tilting slightly so you could see him, catch glimpse of those lust-filled eyes. Not a lot of time granted to admire them before he's covering your lips with his in a hungry kiss. Twisting your body easily, so your back is now pressed against the counter.

“Yoongi,” He's meeting your panted moan with a grunted curse of his own. Cock stiffening in his pants just from the sound of you saying his name. He loved to hear you say his name.

There's no need for you to say much else, his hands grasped around your thighs to easily lift your body onto his. If this had been four years ago, he'd be fucking you on the counter without an ounce of hesitation. But he takes the moment to walk you toward your room, lips never detaching from your neck.

Hard cock grazing over your crotch with each step. Lowering both of your bodies onto the soft mattress, after gently kicking the door closed. With your legs wrapped around his waist, you can feel every ridge and curve of his dick through the thin fabric.

“Take those off,” He pants, leaning back just enough where he's able to remove his shirt from his torso.

Only allowed to a moment to admire the dips of his collarbones, the browned pink of his nipples, each indent that nicely outlined his abs, a trail of hair traveling from below his belly button and disappearing underneath the waistband of his boxers.

He's stealing the image from you, ducking down to tug at your joggers. Hastily, he's pulling them down your legs, cutely grumbling to himself about your endless staring. But, could he blame you? When he looked that good over you like that?

Hooded eyes follow his hands, grin growing as more and more of your smooth skin is revealed to him. You're sighing at the delicate way he lifts your foot, tugging the fabric from around your ankle, before placing a soft kiss to the bone. Tongue just barely grazing over your flesh, painting blotches of saliva all the way to your knee.

Squirming underneath him, needy to feel him where you wanted him most. Each swipe of his lips has a fresh gush of arousal heating up your core and he was ignoring the way your sweet scent tickled his nose.

Breathing picks up at the feeling of his mouth marking up your inner thigh, teeth determined to create a bruise and you're so concentrated on the movement of lips that you don't notice the hand that has crept its way between your legs. Not until the tips of his fingers are brushing against your covered clit and your body is jolting.

“So sensitive,” He murmurs and you can feel the stretch of his grin against your skin. Head lifting to watch your fingers move between your legs, loving the sound of the soft moans he's able to pull soft whimpers from the back of your throat. “So wet too, baby. Bet you taste so sweet.”

Even through your panties, a clear string of slick connects his fingers to your mound as he pulls his arm back. He watches with fascination, taking his time to break the connection before he's pushing his those same fingers into his mouth, wantonly sucking your juices from his fingers.

You'd guess he was just putting on a show for you, wanting to make you as delirious as possible while watching the way his tongue caresses his fingers. But you'd be wrong, especially with the way his cock twitches underneath his shorts. He was enjoying this just as much as you.

“I want to feel your tongue, Yoongi.” Knowing him well enough to know that he wasn't going to give in until you were asking for it, sometimes holding out until you were full-on begging for a bit of relief.

It's like a switch was flicked inside of him, the smirk that takes over his features as his hand drops. Wet fingers latch onto the thin string of your thong, pulling it down until he's able to discard the wet bundle elsewhere. He doesn't waste a moment with diving in.

The first initial swipe of his tongue has your hips lifting, a hummed moan leaving your lips, your fingers tangle into the roots of his hair. So long since you've felt his mouth on you, you're way more sensitive than usual. Yoongi isn't complaining about that in the slightest bit.

His tongue parts your folds, the sweet drops of your arousal quickly coating his tastebuds. Lips quickly wrapping around your clit as a moan slips past his lips from the taste of you, the sound sending a vibration throughout your core. “Shit, Yoongi.” Voice hushed, vaguely remembering to keep quiet.

Yoongi's eyes are darting up to catch the expression on your features, how fucked out you look already and he's just getting started. Just barely, you feel the curve of his smirk against you, the suction behind his lips getting harder. Hips push down against his mouth, offering more of your dripping cunt to his tongue.

“Fuck, I don't remember you being this sweet.” He groans into your heat, tongue traveling down to lick into your entrance. A large hand lifted to set on your mound, thumb finding your clit. “I love this pussy,”

Whether it's the desire that coats his voice or the words he's saying to you, your walls are clenching around nothing. Throbbing for release already, a drawn-out moan falling from your lips as his mouth latches back onto you. His tongue moves much quicker into you, breath trapped in your throat while your fingers tighten in his hair – keeping his face pinned between your legs.

He can't take his eyes off you. Your head lulled back, your hips desperately grind against his face. Chasing the orgasm that you know is close, speeding to the end that he's more than ready to bring you to. “I-it... feels so good,” 

Yoongi's humming into you, arms looping underneath your thighs to pull your body closer to his face. Stilling them in their frantic rolls, he shifts into pressing wet kisses onto your clit. “You like that, baby?” Tongue flicking against your sensitive nub quickly. “Want me to make you cum?”

“Please, please! I need-” He's cutting your begging short, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking down harshly. With little to no warning, his fingers are slipping past your folds, curved so he's instantly meeting that rough patch of skin buried inside of you. Walls clench in response around his fingers, protesting as he draws his fingers back.

A gasped moan breaks through your lips as he's pushing back in, pressing deep inside of you before pulling back again. He's fingers are quickly falling into a steady pace, head lifting and his eyes lock with yours. “You gonna cum?” He only holds your gaze only for a moment before his attention is flickering back between your legs.

Watching in fascination as his fingers disappear inside of you. He's still waiting for your answer, eyebrow raising when it doesn't come. Breathless moans the only thing that falls from your lips. “Hm?” He prompts.

Pink tongue pokes out between his lips, coated with his spit. You watch as he lets it roll off the tip, landing directly on your clit and he's lifting his thumb to rub it in. “You close, baby?” A strangled cry emits from the back of your throat, nodding frantically as you begin to shake underneath him.

“Yes, yes! P-please make me cum,” Words fighting their way out of your mouth when you feel his fingers start to slow. He's grinning at the sound of you begging for him, lowering his body back between your legs. Fingers slowly sliding out of you to be replaced with his open mouth, wet digits easily finding your clit. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me,”

It's as if your body was waiting for his command, pulsating, and arching in pleasure. Hips pinned to the bed and you have to muffle your scream as your orgasm leaves your body in waves. Splashing his lips and your thighs, soaking the sheets underneath you. Your eyes squeezed shut, the wetness clumping your lashes. 

Yoongi's groans are muffled by your pussy, lapping up your juices like a man starved. His eyes are on you the entire time, watching as you ride out your high until your body is falling limp on the mattress heavy breaths lifting your chest.

All at once, he's lifting his body to hover over you, nose nudging against yours slightly and on instinct, your mouth is falling open. There's a hint of a smirk on his lips before he's opening up his mouth, a mixture of his spit and your cum trickling down his wet muscle and landing onto yours.

You're swallowing it down with no hesitance, dark eyes never leaving you, and only growing darker when you're parting your lips to show him your empty mouth. His lips are attached to yours in an instant and you're welcoming his tongue and the warm wetness that comes with it. Swallowing that too.

“You're so fucking perfect,” He groans, fingers tracing over the softness of your stomach. “Take everything I give to you,” His eyes flicker down to watch the movement of his fingers and you follow his gaze. Not missing the painful-looking strain at the front of his shorts, one odd move and he'd be bursting through the fabric.

He's reaching lower, spreading your legs apart so he's able to fit his body in between them. Groaning at the unintentional friction over his cock. Slowly, his fingers walk their way back to your stomach, brushing over your skin delicately. “Should I put another baby in you?” His cock twitches against you at the mere mention of it, but he pays it no mind – keeping his glued to yours.

“Please,” Something changes in his eyes with your agreement, turning dark as your legs lift. Toes hooking into the waistband of his shorts, pushing them the best you can with your angle. “Want you to fill me up,” You whine and the growl that leaves his throat can only be described as primal.

His hands are quickly wrapping around your ankles, tugging your body into his before pushing his shorts down the rest of the way. Cock bouncing against your folds the moment his clothes are out of the way. “You want me to?” Lowering himself onto you again, his hips roll; coating his shaft with your arousal.

“Give you a little girl this time?” He's more turned on then you've ever seen him. And it only deepens as he continues speaking. Egging himself on. “Can't wait 'til you're all big and swollen with my baby. Want that?”

Head bobbing in a nod, a breathy 'yes' leaving your lips followed by a string of like sounding ones. A single hand wraps around his shaft, squeezing out a dribble of precum before he's lining himself up with your entrance. Teeth cutting into his lower lip, eyes fluttering as he slides into you inch by inch.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He huffs once he's bottomed out, your walls clenched tight around him. “Always so fucking tight,” Yoongi whimpers, like actually whines as he pulls his hips back. In one swift movement, he's pushing forward, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

Head bowed, he watches his cock drag in and out of you. Your moans filling the room as the strength of his thrusts grow. His hands set on your hips, fingers bruising into your skin as he fucks you into the mattress. He's groaning out your name, lips close to your ear, and you whimper when he's catching it between his teeth.

“Gonna get you nice and pregnant. Fuck my baby deep inside you,” Yoongi's gasping out against your skin as you clench around him. Cock twitching against your walls. He's close, already. And you have a feeling it has everything to do with the thought of filling you up.

His hand fingers are quick to find you clit, rubbing frantic circles against it as his grip tightens around your waist. “God, I can feel you trying to milk me... you gonna cum again?” Nodding, breathless moans fall from your lips. Hips lifting to meet each one of is powerful thrusts.

“Yoongi, fuck-” Words breaking on a sob, clit being pinched between his knuckles. Your lashes flutter, hips lifting off the mattress as your walls squeeze tight around him. He's urging you on, mumbling dirty things into your ear that only prolongs your orgasm.

And the moment your body stops shaking, Yoongi is fucking into you with a newfound strength. Face buried in the crook of your neck. The power of his thrusts makes your tits bounce, pebbled nipples brushing against the fabric of your t-shirt. 

He's delirious, it seems. Incoherent mumbles about how pretty you'll look with his baby. How he's ready to fuck you over and over again until you're full of him. And you moan in response, wanting everything he's offering. Yoongi's teeth sink into the curve of your shoulder, hips stiffening before he's spilling his speed into your womb. Strong hands keeping your body in place and whines fall from your lips at the feeling of his warmth coating your walls.

The tiniest of orgasms wash through your body, walls clenching around him, attempting to milk him of every last drop. And he doesn't move until he's empty, pulling out slowly despite the protest your pussy puts up. His cum dribbles out of you, toes curling at the familiar feeling.

Yoongi's quick to push it back in, using the tip of his cock as a shovel. Dazed eyes glued to your core and you're sure he's barely thinking when he's sliding back inside of you. Arms wrapped around your shoulder as his face nuzzles the crook of your neck. “Gotta get you nice and pregnant,” He's mumbling before his body falls slack.

It doesn't take you long to realize that he's fallen asleep, the intensity of his orgasm getting to him. A giggle falling from your lips, fingers running through his slightly sweaty hair. “Really hope you do,” Voice barely above a whisper, you press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Holding him as he falls deeper into dreamland, his soft breath tickling the side of your neck. And you let your mind wander, thinking about how different things are now... how they're the same. How they'll change three years from now. 

More than ready to grow your family with him.

JUNE 8TH, 2020 | 11:27

“I just can't have anyone working for me that my girl doesn't trust. That I don't trust.” Yoongi sits at his studio desk, a nervous looking Jiso stood in front of him. Sort of knew what the ordeal was when he was calling her into his studio in the serious tone he almost never uses.

Of course, you weren't keeping it to yourself just how you were finding out about Yoongi's addiction. And while it worked out in the end, having someone who was so willing to share his business on his team... just couldn't happen.

Despite the apologies, her promises to never do something like that again – he couldn't budge. Not someone that could be trusted, not to mention the sly attitude she had toward you. No way would he keep someone like that around, working so close underneath him.

“Mr. Agust, it was just a mistake. Do you really think I'd intentionally wrong you?” Long eyelashes batted at him, pouted lips pouted in his direction. He uses to consider her pout cute, especially when she first started out and was constantly making tiny mistakes.

Never something he acted on. Jiso was his assistant and that was it. But the guy wasn't blind. A good looking girl and that had a lot to do with why he kept her around, ignoring his bosses when they told him to hire someone better. All she did was make mistakes.

“I know you weren't trying to hurt me. You were trying to hurt my girl and that doesn't sit well with me.” It's automatic, how her eyes roll at the mention of you. A soft scoff falling from her lips.

But the hard stare that Yoongi gives her, daring her to say one thing wrong about you keeps her mouth shut. Realizing that her cute pout won't get her anywhere in this situation, Jiso allows her shoulders to slump. “Okay,” She sighs, “Thank you for the opportunity.” He almost feels bad for the girl, because it's his fault.

Entertained her crush for a bit too long. Never made advances, but he never corrected her flirting. Acted as if it was okay, never set her straight. And now here they were. Jiso turns with a sigh, heavy steps taken out of the studio and into the hallway.

Not paying attention she almost tumbles over Hyunki, who's running full speed down the hall. You're a few steps behind him. He stops short before his face is smacking against her knee, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Sorry, Miss Jiso!” She's quick to tell him it's alright, gaze lifting to find you had caught up to them.

Her stare turns cold. “Hope you're happy, I just got fired.” Arms crossed over her chest, the weight shifting onto one leg, popping her hip out. Was she serious? You don't even bother to mask the laugh that falls from your lips at her ridiculousness.

“You're a shit employee,” Gentle fingers run through Hyunki's soft hair. “Baby. Go tell your father it's time to go,” With a quick nod, Hyunki is back to running at full speed. On his tiptoes he taps in the code he's seen you both punch in a ton of times. The door clicks open and he's rushing in.

Jiso only offers an annoyed scoff, before she's brushing past you. Heels clicking as she leaves the corridor, mumbling angrily to herself.

“Daddy! It's time to go!” In the middle of rerecording the spoken bit of his song, Hyunki's voice overlaps. He's stopping the track, just as he steps further into the room. Hitting play, the sound of his son calling for him echos throughout the room.

Hyunki gasps. “That's me!” A hand clamped over his mouth as his eyes go wide. Yoongi lets out a laugh, turning in his chair so he can fully face him. “I think we should keep it, what do you think buddy?”

Something of an intro as the beat starts. “Yup!” Not needing any details before he's agreeing. Small hands tug on Yoongi's large one, attempting to pull him from his seat. “Mommy said she was very hungry.” He allows himself to be pulled to his feet, arms reaching down to lift Hyunki onto his side.

“Ooh, we better hurry. Mommy's grumpy when she's hungry.” Hyunki's head is nodding quickly, eyes widening slightly as he tilts his head to look at his dad. “And she talks too much too,” Despite the laugh that breaks through Yoongi's lips, he's quick to remind Hyunki not to talk about his mom like that.

A tiny huff leaves his lips, hand lifting to rest on his cheek. “You said first,” He says, but mostly lets it go. No doubt saving it to get him in trouble later on. Sometimes it shocked him how alike they were.

JUNE 13TH, 2020 | 20:39

Yoongi enters the room, damp shirt sticking to his stomach. A bright smile brightening his features, his eyes landing on your body curled up under his sheets. His heart pounds, the way it always does when he sees you. Basically skipping over to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Nearly stuttering when he sees the smile that pushes onto your lips.

“See? Bedtime is not that hard.”

Pretty eyes roll at his words, fingers dropping to graze over the wet fabric of his shirt. Peaking down to admire the bit of skin you can see through the material. “Yeah? Your shirt's all wet. He splashed you, didn't he?” Eyes finding his, soft strands of hair bouncing as he shakes his head slightly.

Yoongi steps back, putting a bit of distance between the two of you so he's able to pull his wet shirt from his body. You watch him shamelessly, in silent awe as he carelessly reveals more of his skin to you. Acting as if you hadn't seen him like this a million times before.

“I don't know who he thinks he is,” He strips down until he's in his boxers, ruffling his hands through his hair before sliding into bed beside you. Body turning at once, he doesn't hesitate to tuck you underneath his arm. 

Lips finding the soft skin just below his jaw as you settle into his side. “He's literally you,” Your laugh vibrates against his neck and now it's his turn to roll his eyes. Mockingly, he repeats your words. Playfulness coating his tone

His head shifts, body twists until he's able to crash his lips down onto yours. A satisfied hum leaving his lips as his mouth moves over yours. Slowly, lovingly. Taking his time with the way he kissed you as if you had all the time in the world. Because you had all the time in the world.

Gentle teeth tug at your lower lip, easily pulling your lips apart enough so his tongue can slide past them. And you accept him without a moment of hesitance, fingers curling into his hair as your wet muscles roll and push against each other. He's holding you close to him, hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt. Pleased to find the only thing keeping him from the warmth of your skin is the lace of your panties.

Seemed to be your uniform in his bed. His shirt, preferably one that smelled most like him, and a pair of panties. It was his favorite thing to see you in. Right next to nothing at all. Slowly, Yoongi's letting his lips part from yours. Kissing away the clear line of saliva that keeps your lips connected.

“Can we have another one?” His fingers toy with the lace of your panties, no doubt poking holes into the already holey material. Still on your birth control the night he had been so determined to put a baby in you, so deep in the moment that it had slipped your mind.

But the next day you were making the appointment to get it removed and now you were physically ready to grow your family. As well as mentally. “Yes,” His grin groans, nose nudging your head to the side so he's able to press his lips to your neck.

“Right now?” His words are muffled by your skin, flesh sucked between his teeth. His hands are sliding underneath your panties, gripping the flesh of your ass in his palms. Kneading and molding the flesh as if he could shape it.

You're laughing loudly at the giddiness hidden with his tone, hands reaching back to bat his hands away from your butt. “No, not right now.” You're turning in his arms easily, back pressed into his chest. He doesn't lift his hands from your body, instead allows his fingers to dance over your soft belly.

The tips of his fingers brushing against the slightly raised scar on your lower belly. Face nuzzled in the crook of your neck as his index finger runs over the long line leading from one hip to the other. His fingers repeat the motion, gentle kisses planted on your neck.

You don't notice the way your body has gone tense against him. Not use to the feeling of someone touching your scar. Always politely ignored. Yoongi's picking up on your rigidness instantly, fingers stilling.

“It hurts?”

Hand coming down to meet his, your fingers intertwine with his. Urging yourself to relax. Just Yoongi. There was nothing to worry about. He had already proved to you time and time again that things like this didn't mean anything to him.

“No, just... no one has touched it before. Feels weird,” He's nodding in understanding, lips planting one last gentle kiss to your neck before he's lifting his head to set his chin on your shoulder. “I like it,” Yoongi is deciding after a momentary silence.

The feeling that washes over you can only be described as happiness. “Really?”

“Of course. It's what got our son here. I think it's pretty... I think you're pretty.” Body leaning back into him, your head finds his shoulder. His fingers continue to rub against the scar, feather-like kisses placed over the side of your face; slowly making their descent lower on your body.

Along with his hands.

“Your hands seem to be going a bit low there, Mister.”

The laugh that leaves his lips shakes your back and warms your heart. Subconsciously spreading your legs for him, hips pushing back into his. “Are they? I didn't notice...” The tips of his fingers dip underneath the band of your panties, crawling their way further between your legs.

You open up your mouth to speak, words caught in your throat as the sound of your bedroom door slamming open fills the room. “I'll sleep here!” Hyunki shouts, and Yoongi is quick to pull his hands away from him.

He runs at full speed into the room, slowing only to climb onto the bed. He stands on the edge for a moment, a mischievous look in his eyes as he grins. Two bends of his legs and he's SuperMan jumping directly onto Yoongi's chest. “I'll sleep here!” He screams through a laugh as Yoongi's arms wrap around him.

You're turning onto your side so you can face them, smiling at the way he's spread himself on his dad's stomach, using him as his own makeshift mattress. Elbow propped up on the bed, you rest your cheek on your palm. “Do you not like your big boy bed?”

“Sometimes no.” Hyunki shrugs. His arm wrapped around Yoongi's torso, cheek smushed against his chest. “Daddy makes me sleep,” And if the sleepiness in his tone wasn't proof enough, you had no idea what would be.

Yoongi is grinning proudly at his words, arm reaching out for you. He's easily tucking you into his side. “Let Daddy make you sleep too.” The happiness in his words has your heartwarming, an arm wrapping around both of them you settle into his side.

You're falling asleep instantly in his arms. Feeling as happy as he sounds. Positive that you've never felt this content. This at peace with anyone. Yoongi. Hyunki. Your family. You loved them. Not realizing you had spoken out loud until Yoongi's smiling lips are finding your forehead. 

“I love you too.”

— when the love of his life suddenly vanishes, he drives himself mad looking for her. seemingly erased from the world, he’s forced to pick up the pieces of his life and move on… fast forward three years and someone who looks a lot like the woman he lost is being spotted, holding a kid with an oddly familiar gummy smile…

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33