#I have over 30 reader fics so I figured this might be nice
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REMUSWRITING PORTFOLIO
My fics that I believe are representations of my best male reader works. All links are the AO3 links since those have been edited since posting.
If you're interested in all my fics, then there's my AO3 and my masterlist.
Iwaizumi Hajime
take your time (i'll be here)
university | fluff | domestic | 1.9k
It’s dead-week, and Y/N wishes Hajime would change his major.
Kageyama Tobio
resentment
twin au | angst | misunderstandings | 7.9k
Kageyama believes Y/N, his twin brother, is the complete opposite of him, which means they have to hate each other. The only thing is that Y/N didn’t get the memo.
Kozume Kenma
cut the cameras
university | angst | poly relationship | wip
It’s Y/N’s final year of university when his advisor nominates him to submit a short film for the Tokyo Film Festival for a final grade. Cue the lights, the cameras, making more friends than he expected to, and having realizations that flip his entire world upside down.
Miya Atsumu
online friends
pre-relationship | fluff | angst | 2.3k
Create a Twitter thread about Naruto and volleyball, and Miya Atsumu is now your best friend.
Miya Osamu
and how the stars shine
camp counselor | pre-relationship | 3.6k
When Sugawara has to retire from being a camp counselor after getting a teaching position, Y/N meets his new co-counselor Miya Osamu.
Miya Triplet
the narrative
triplet au | angst | hopeful ending | wip
Everyone has a different perception of Miya Y/N. Y/N doesn't know which is the right one.
Oikawa Tooru
interviews
journalist! reader | getting together | 5.8k
Oikawa makes a terrible first impression to L/N, Seijoh's newspaper editor-in-chief, when the volleyball team gets featured in the school magazine.
Sakusa Kiyoomi
where the wind takes me
post-time skip | platonic | fluff | 1.8k
Sakusa sees L/N out buying White Day gifts.
Sugawara Koushi
changes
male oc | angst | friends to rivals | 6.3k
Sato was dangerous on the court. Sugawara wished he wasn't.
hold me tight
male oc | angst | slow burn | wip
Sato Kai is a manager for Karasuno boys’ VBC and no one can get a read on him, even though he can read all of them.
Tsukishima Kei
first words
soulmate au | hanahaki disease | 20.2k
In a world where the first words your soulmate say to you is on your wrist, Y/N manages to get “hello.”
you’re already home
fluff | post-time skip | second person | nonexplicit sex | 1.2k
The words "I love you" don't feel enough to describe how much Tsukishima loves you.
Ukai Keishin
next to you
high school ukai | fluff | 5.1k
Keishin wants to play with Y/N no matter how hard he has to work for it.
an ocean away
sequel to next to you | angst | pining | 7.7k
Y/N knew he had terrible ideas, but he hoped coming back to Japan after 10 years to see Karasuno at nationals and confess to his high school boyfriend that he’s still in love with him wouldn’t be one of them.
Yamaguchi Tadashi
a sight for sore eyes
angst | miscommunication | 6k
Sometimes it's hard to accept unrequited love and move on.
#haikyuu#haikyuu x male reader#haikyuu x reader#remuswriting portfolio#I have over 30 reader fics so I figured this might be nice
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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)
✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.
Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader
AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 6.7k+
Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content
sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together
Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie
a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰
“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”
With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.
Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.
It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?
Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.
“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”
“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.
“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."
“Oh, well that’s very–“
“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.
“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”
Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.
“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.
Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”
As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”
“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.
“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”
With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.
“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”
The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.
“What did you say your last name is?”
You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.
“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.
“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.
“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”
Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.
“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”
“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”
“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.
There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.
Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?
“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.
“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”
“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”
“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.
“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.
“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”
Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?
This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.
“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.
“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."
Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.
For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.
Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.
Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.
“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”
What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”
“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.
You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.
“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.
“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."
With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.
"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.
"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"
You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.
"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."
"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.
"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"
"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.
"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."
Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."
"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.
"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"
You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"
"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."
The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.
"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."
That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.
"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.
"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."
"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”
"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."
Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."
Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.
"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.
"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.
"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.
"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.
"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.
"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"
Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.
"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.
"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"
"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."
"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"
"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."
"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"
Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."
Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"
"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"
"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."
It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.
"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."
"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.
"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.
"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.
The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.
Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.
"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"
Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"
"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"
"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."
You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.
"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"
"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"
"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.
"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.
"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."
"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.
"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."
"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.
"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.
"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.
Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.
What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.
You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.
"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.
"'m, I love you too."
Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.
"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.
"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."
He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"
You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.
"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."
You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.
"Yoon?"
"Mm."
"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.
"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.
"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.
"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.
You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.
"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."
Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.
"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."
His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.
"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."
Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.
"But...you haven't seen me–"
"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."
"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."
Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.
"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.
Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.
"Can I?"
You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.
With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.
"Fuck," you swear.
"Feeling good?"
All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.
"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.
"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"
He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.
Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.
"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."
"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"
Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.
Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.
You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.
"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.
"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."
Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"
"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.
"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.
"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.
"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.
"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."
"Really? You're not just teasing me?"
Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.
"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.
Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.
"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.
Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.
"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."
Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.
"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."
"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"
Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.
"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."
"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"
"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."
"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.
"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.
This is what love feels like.
a/n: LMK what you think 🥰
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#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#bts imagine#bts smut#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts au#fic:whatlovefeelslike#kookslastbutton
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Can't Help It
pairing: dbf!leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: your dad's coworker needs a housesitter, but the house isn't the only thing you'll be sitting on (haha pls laugh)
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, oral (m receiving), age gap (i imagine early 20s/late 30s), both reader and leon are kinda pervy but not in a skeevy way <3
word count: 5.3k
a/n: hi hi i am back! this was such a pain to write for no reason, but as always, i hope people enjoy. i'm not sure what trope this really falls under, it's probably more accurate to say dcw (dad's coworker), but we'll go with dbf for convenience. i might make a part 2 of this idk. also, i know the header images are really giving graphic design is my passion but... it is what is lol. as before, thank you for all the support on my last fics. if you reblogged or commented, i'm giving you a smooch rn. and just wanna say that i do take requests. if anyone is interested, don't be shy ;) any who, feedback, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3
When your dad’s new coworker asked if you’d be interested in housesitting for some easy money, you couldn’t find a reason to say no. Agent Kennedy, like your father, traveled for work a lot. Often gone for weeks at a time, he needed someone to watch the place and take care of menial tasks like getting the mail and watering the plants. It paid well and all you had to do was basically live in his house.
You had met him several times in passing before he offered you this job, and he was always nice to you. He would say hi when you’d come down for a snack while he talked to your dad in the living room. He’d ask how college was and about the different classes you were taking. One time he even told you about some old band he liked that he thought you would too. And that was all great.
But what was even better was that he was fine as fuck.
You had a fat crush on him from the moment you were introduced. The way his eyes pierced right through you but in the softest way. How his lips curled into a knowing smile while his hand gripped yours in a firm shake. The way he said “pretty name for a pretty girl” when you told him your name. From any other middle-aged man, that would have been so corny and had you internally shriveling up. But from him… you had to fight the urge to get on your knees then and there.
He’d approached you about watching his house, saying something about how there had been some nearby break-ins in empty houses and it would be a good way for you to get some spending money and blah blah blah. You were on board as soon as the opportunity to have more of him in your life presented itself.
Unfortunately, it was the nature of housesitting that you rarely saw your employer. You would see him when you showed up and when he came home and that was it. But those moments were enough to sustain your delusion.
The first time you came over, you walked into the house, glancing around the den of the man who enraptured you. It was pretty basic, but you figured that not being home a lot would be the reason for that. When you were done trying to psychoanalyze him from looking around his house, he gave you your own set of keys with a wink that had you blushing an embarrassing amount.
“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you said softly.
“Call me Leon, Sweetheart,” he replied.
You had to look away to conceal your giddy smile. You didn’t think he noticed the effect he had on you. Or if he did, he didn’t care about your pitiful infatuation. But other times, you could have sworn he did this kind of thing on purpose.
Your first stint in the house went smoothly. You made sure to do everything he asked and even cleaned up the place a little bit. When he returned from wherever his work had taken him that time, he seemed impressed to your delight. He looked around, making small talk with you before writing your check.
“You get up to anything crazy while I was gone?” he said, smirking as he scribbled his signature on the small rectangle.
“Yeah, I was real wild - I brought out your vacuum for probably the first time.”
He laughed, handed you the check, and teasingly purred “good girl.”
Now, he may have been joking, but your panties nearly soaked through with arousal regardless. You yet again hid your revealing expression as you said a timid goodbye and headed out to your car. You were shifting your thighs together the whole ride home, fantasizing about being a good girl for Agent Kennedy so he would relieve that ache between your legs that clouded your thoughts.
Honestly, all of this made you feel pretty pathetic. Lusting after your father’s coworker, now technically your boss, who was a good fifteen years older than you. Blushing and squirming every time he said something more than ‘hi.’ Weren’t you better than this? But then you’d see those thick biceps and mysterious eyes, and the answer in your mind would be a resounding no.
Because honestly, you weren’t better than this, you were so much worse. After the good girl incident, you decided that if he didn’t want you yet, he would. You would make sure of it. From then on, every time you were housesitting, you wore your most revealing outfits, did your hair all pretty, and even tried special perfume so you’d smell extra nice.
But none of it seemed to work. He kept up his regular teasing and charm, but to your dismay, he hadn’t railed you on that sad leather couch in the living room. You tried to convince yourself that his gazes lingered longer and that his touches were more strategic, but that felt like reach even for you.
It was so frustrating. What more could you do? You touched his arm while he spoke. You laughed harder at his corny jokes. You even hugged him once or twice when you could justify it. You tried to drop hints every way you could without literally just trying to seduce him, and he did not seem to care. You nearly gave up. You decided that maybe you should just cut your losses and spare yourself the humiliation. Leave yourself with some dignity and resign to just being his housesitter.
You would have done this if not for the fact that he lets you sleep in his bed while he’s gone.
His house was meant for one person. It didn’t have a guest room. He told you on your first gig that you were obviously allowed to sleep in his bed since the alternative was the aforementioned sad leather couch in the living room. He told you to bring whatever you needed to be comfortable - sheets, blankets, pillows - since you’d be there for weeks at a time.
At first, it was too weird. It made you feel dirty, sleeping in his bed while harboring your secret carnal desires. But goddamn, that couch in the living room was uncomfortable. You stuck it out for the first time, but the second time you housesat, you relented and dragged your belongings back to the room you’d forbidden yourself from knowing.
His bedroom, like the rest of the house, is pretty blank, but there’s a little more personality here. It made you feel like such a stalker, but you couldn’t help making observations, right? You got to see the type of cologne he wore, the few dusty books he kept next to his bed, what kind of stuff he crammed in the nightstand drawers. It sounded creepy, but you just had curiosity, right?
You set yourself up in his queen size bed, draping the plush blanket you brought with you across the mattress. The bed was comfy enough, but the absolute best part, the part that kept your fantasies alive and well, was the way the sheets smelled like him.
You nearly moaned when you took a deep breath, filling your nose with that familiar scent. It gave you such a rush pushing your face into those smooth gray linens. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t help shamefully slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to play with your swollen clit. You clutch the sheets in your fists as you writhe on the bed, whining as you fantasize about your special agent.
Leon had gone years leaving his house desolate without an issue. All that nonsense about potential burglaries and spending money for you had been total bullshit. It’s not like there was anything of value in his house anyway. Those excuses served only as a way to get more of you in his life. He thought housesitting was a happy middleground, a tether to you without being obvious about his motivations.
Ever since he saw you for the first time, heading out your front door, offering a timid ‘nice to meet you,’ he had been hooked. You bewitched him with your sweet temperament, that soft laugh when he told you bad jokes, those gorgeous eyes projecting all the emotions in that pretty head of yours. God, you were so fucking cute.
You made him feel like a dirty old man, sick and perverted for coveting his colleague’s daughter. The embarrassment he felt within himself when he’d notice he was staring at your tits or imagining how your soft lips would look wrapped around his cock was immeasurable. Even though the guilt boiled inside him, he couldn’t stop himself. He craved you. He started finding more opportunities to visit your house, hoping he could steal a few moments of your time. That’s when he knew enough was enough.
Having you as his house sitter worked perfectly. He could have his moments with you without feeling too disgusted with himself. Even though he liked to tease every so often, he kept it friendly. He noticed that you, on the other hand, seemed to be doing everything to change that.
He wasn’t a fool. He could see the changes in your appearance. Those skimpy outfits you’d flaunt yourself in drove him crazy. The way you’d playfully roll your eyes and brush his arm had his cock twitching in his pants. It was becoming all the more tempting to spread you out on the dining table and take what he wanted. But he still wrestled with that part of himself that said to not take it too far. That you deserved better.
That was until you started sleeping in his bed.
He had come home after your second gig, given you your check, and sent you on your way quickly because he was exhausted from his mission. He went straight to his room and collapsed on the bed. He could tell the sheets had been freshly washed by the soft feel, but also because you were always going above and beyond to please him. Despite the recent cleaning, he swore to himself he could smell some of your perfume on them.
He looked like a madman, smelling his bed sheets for the faintest hit of that scent. He groaned, picturing you lying here, your beautiful body sprawled out on his bed. He inhaled deeper while conjuring images of your unkempt hair and sleepy eyes. It wasn’t long until his dick sprung to life as he saw images of you with one of his pillows between your legs, whimpering as you drag your dripping cunt back and forth along the fabric. He couldn’t help the need to desperately pump his cock to sinful visions of his precious girl.
This morning it’s about six when Leon unlocks the front door and quietly walks inside. He completed his mission hours before. He was tired, but it had been short, only about a week, and relatively easy. He told you he would be home in the evening, but he’d finished earlier than expected.
He trudges through the house and down the hall to his bedroom, collapsing in bed at the forefront of his mind. It’s not until he reaches the door and hears your deep breathing that it occurs to him that his bed is currently occupied. He gently pushes the door open and walks in, planning on rousing you so you could get your money and be on your way. When he sees you though, that plan vanishes from his mind.
The sight of you nearly melts him into a puddle. He pads closer to the bed, careful not to disturb you. Your shiny hair is draped across the pillow as you lie on your stomach with one leg hiked up. Your arms rest close to your face, their raised position causing your t-shirt to ride up and allowing him to see your waist. The blanket was tangled between your legs, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the junction of your thighs covered only by those thin panties you wore.
Despite your beauty, he controls himself. He pulls the blanket over your lower body and sits beside you to contemplate his next move. He came up with a few different things he could do, but all he wanted right now was to watch you sleep. He felt like such a creep, but you looked heavenly in this state. His ears strained to hear those delicate exhales coming from your parted lips.
He could just go sleep on the couch until you woke up. He could just wake you up and offer to let you stay until you had your bearings. Or he could just let himself enjoy this a little more.
He wanted to wake you though. He wasn’t fully sure of what he was doing, but if there was any part of you that had reservations he wanted to know. It would rip his heart to shreds if he frightened you somehow. He begins rubbing your back in long soothing strokes. He makes small circles with his fingers every so often. You stir a little, but don’t wake.
He continues his ministrations, smiling at your sleeping form. He uses his other hand to brush your hair from your face. He strokes the locks away from your closed eyes before leaning closer to you. He can smell that familiar scent that had driven him to humping the sheets for the last few months.
“Hey Angel, need you to wake up for me,” he coos in your ear, his hot breath fanning across the side of your head.
It slowly registers inside your unconscious mind that you aren’t dreaming. Actual fingers are coasting along your back. An actual voice is coaxing you back to reality.
A low hum emits from your throat as you shift to face the source of your disturbance. Your eyes open, still heavy from sleep, and Leon enters your field of vision. For a second, you wonder if you’re still dreaming.
“There she is,” he whispers, giving you that charming smile. He runs his fingers along your jaw and tilts your chin to turn your face completely in his direction.
You feel your brain malfunctioning as he floods your senses. The morning light coming through the window illuminating him as he looks down at you. The deep timbre of his voice speaking to you. His rough fingertips dragging across the smooth expanse of your cheek.
Soon as your eyes come into focus and your mind clears the fog of sleep a little, you grasp enough of the situation to feel a jolt of panic. It felt like you woke up late for school. You shoot up in bed and look at him with wide, apologetic eyes.
“Oh my God, Leon, I’m so sorry. I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight. I’ll be ready in a minute. Just-” you ramble. You go to fling the blanket off of you, but remember you didn’t wear shorts to bed. You have to sit there, looking at him as you feel heat creeping to your cheeks.
“Hey, it’s alright,” he cuts you off with a quiet chuckle, gently catching your arm when you sit up, “I finished a little early. You don’t need to rush out the door. I figured you’d still be asleep.”
The look in his eyes soothes you. He has that rugged, worn out look that he gets when he comes back from missions. Your heart rate falls back down to normal levels, but your eyes still cast downwards, a little embarrassed he’d caught you unprepared. His fingers trail up and down your arm, and you shift a little to try and hide the fact that your nipples are hardening beneath the flimsy fabric of your shirt.
“Thank you. I’ll be up in a few though. I know you’re probably tired,” you say, giving him a sheepish smile.
He moves so that he’s further on the bed with you. He lays back on the pillows and looks up at you, rubbing your back how he was before you woke up.
“Mmmm, I am, but you still don’t need to rush. I’m not gonna complain about a sweet thing like you warming my bed,” he says, that teasing smile spreading across his face and his fingers starting to trace patterns exclusively on the small of your back.
Your eyes flit away as your own smile grows on your face. How were you supposed to be normal about this? You look down at your hands in your lap and mutter a thank you.
“Honey, you really don’t need to be so shy all of the sudden,” he says softly, but there’s a smug lilt to his voice as well. You bite your lip as his hand begins fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
He can’t help the smirk and predator-like glint in his eyes that form at your reaction. This was it. That little smile and refusal to meet his eyes was all he could stand. He was closing in now. The flirtation between you two had gone on long enough. He wanted this, and if you wanted it too, his mind couldn’t find a reason to deny the two of you any longer.
“Sweetheart, if you have something to tell me, you can come out and say it. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to,” he says as he reaches up to pull your hair behind your shoulder and out of your face, “And, lately I’m starting to think that’s what you want.”
You look over to him now, your eyes staring into his. Your limbs feel weak, disbelief coursing through your veins. Your thoughts stampede through your mind, but you eventually force the words from your throat.
“I think I want that too,” you breathe. Your heart seizes at his brows playfully rising. You lay down on the bed, resting on your side so that you and Leon are face to face. Your pulse thunders in your ears while you try to conceal how shaky your breathing is.
He scooches over to you, pushing you on to your back and propping himself on his elbow so he’s positioned above you. He leans down and presses two faint kisses to your cheeks. Pulling back, he looks into your eyes and strokes your cheek again with the same soft and slow movements.
“Think, babydoll? I think you know what you want,” he whispers, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip, “I think you’ve known for a while. Wearing all those cute little outfits, prancing through my house and brushing against me like a kitten. You were just begging for my attention.”
You squirm slightly under the spotlight of his affection. Somehow, you maintain eye contact even though every cell in you feels the urge to look away. Part of your mind wonders if he’s still teasing. If he’s about to pull away and leave you wanting.
Before you could overthink anymore, his head lowers to the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath of you as he moves himself further on top.
“Now, you’ve got it, but all you had to do, sweet thing, was ask,” he says as his mouth ghosts over your neck, “That’s all you have to do right now. Just want to hear that you want me as bad as I want you.”
“Yes,” you whimper without a second thought, “Please touch me.”
“That’s my good girl,” he hums as he begins kissing your neck. The kisses are soft. They’re barely there, but they’re overwhelming to you. You can’t help the pathetic sound that leaves your lips as you tilt your head back. The hand that had been touching your face trails down to your waist and begins caressing your side under your shirt.
His tongue gently laps against the skin of your neck between kisses. Your whole body is starting to heat up while simultaneously getting chills. Every inch of you aches for his touch. Your thighs subconsciously spread as your breathing becomes heavier.
Leon lets out a small laugh at your display. “You must really want this Baby. Just a few kisses and rubs and you’re already mine,” he murmurs as his lips move up your neck and down your jaw. He kisses your lips next, giving your bottom lip a little nip.
Another needy sound escapes your mouth. You return the kiss and flick your tongue against his lips. “I do, wanted this since I met you,” you moan, your body writhing for more.
“Naughty girl,” he teases against your lips, “That’s okay though, Angel. I’m the same way. Wanted a handful of these pretty tits since I saw you.” His hand moves up and kneads your breast. His fingers massage the flesh before centering and pinching your nipple.
You whine and arch into his touch. Your eyes flutter as your face contorts with desire. He slides over you, straddling your waist. He stares down at you and takes in what was finally in his grasp. He coos for you to sit up a little while he pulls your shirt off of you. You comply and then flop back against the pillows. Now exposed from the waist up, his eyes feel even more intense. He’s locked on to the view of your tits.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” he mutters, “Even better than I imagined.” His hands cup the sides of your breasts, groping them a bit. You can now see his cock beginning to strain against his jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight, but it’s gone when he leans down to take a nipple into his mouth.
His tongue circles the peak before lapping against it, drawing more whines from you. Your body arches into his touch while his hands never let up their fondling. You take your lip between your teeth again. He moves to give the other nipple the same treatment, leaving the other one cold as the air touches the saliva-coated skin.
He plays with your breasts for a while more before drifting down your abdomen, lavishing your stomach with kisses. He squeezes your waist as he playfully tugs the hem of your panties with his teeth. He looks up at you deviously. “Your nipples were so hard, I bet your pussy’s fucking soaked for me.”
All you can do is nod, any verbal response tangled up in your esophagus. He leans back on his knees and swiftly pulls the garment off. His pupils seem blown out as he gets a look at your cunt. He pushes your thighs to your stomach, spreading you out for his gaze. You felt so exposed, at his mercy as he held you there and just looked at you. Your arms reach down and pull at the hem of his shirt.
“Wanna see you too,” you whimper with pleading eyes.
“Yeah?” he says with a soft smile. He leans back and pulls his shirt off. It takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. “Been fantasizing about me, have you?”
Your eyes rake along his chiseled abdomen, drinking in every line and shadow of his muscular frame. You reach out and pull him back on top of you. His grin grows, and he indulges you. You connect your mouths again, this time sliding your tongue inside his. He groans at your sudden eagerness. He runs his hand through your hair while you feel up his back, exploring the definition there.
You give him a little push, signaling that you want to roll over. His body flips over and takes you with him so that you’re positioned how you wanted. You make out for a minute more until you pull back, looking at him with your lustful eyes and swollen lips.
“Wanna suck your cock,” you say simply, sliding down his body so that you’re lying between his legs. You nuzzle against the bulge in his pants before unzipping them and tugging them down.
His eyes follow your every movement. He pets your head as you rub your face against the outline of his dick. He tilts his head back and lets out a sigh.
“That’s a good girl, just gotta give you some love and then you loosen up, don’t you?” he coos.
“Mhm,” you hum. You kiss his solid length over the cloth of his boxers. Then, finally, what you had been waiting for since meeting Leon. You loop your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, unveiling his beautiful cock.
You wrap your fingers around it, just an exploratory touch. You feel the veins in your hold and the heat radiating from his shaft. You slowly bring your head to the tip to give him some tiny licks. Your eyes dart to his face, looking for approval.
Leon’s chest ached from the way you were looking at him like he was a god. When your tongue sticks out and your eyes return his stare, he nods at you and keeps stroking your hair. Your lips soon wrap around the tip, and you bob your head a little. He groans and his hips twitch.
“That’s a good girl, baby. Good fucking girl,” he moans as your head slides further down his member. His fingers lace through your hair, pulling a little.
The praise only makes you more enthusiastic. You move up and down with more speed, making lewd slurping noises as you work. His hand on your head and his sounds of pleasure has heat collecting in your belly, leaking out of your dripping pussy.
His head rests against the head board as he watches you with half-open eyes. His eyes squeeze shut and his body tenses as you push your head all the way down, taking him into your throat. Spit trickles from your mouth and drips on to his pelvis.
“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he whimpers, tugging on your hair a little. You taste his pre cum leaking on your tongue. A gagging noise comes from you and his hips twitch harder. He barely restrains himself from bucking up and lodging himself deeper in your throat. You moan around his cock, driving him even crazier. He feels the rush of an orgasm approaching and tugs your hair with more firmness, guiding your head up and off his lap. You whine softly as you lose the taste of him.
“Sorry, pretty girl, don’t wanna cum just yet,” he says.
You crawl back up his body, so you’re in his arms again. You kiss his cheeks and the corners of his mouth as he rolls the two of you over so he’s on top again. He connects your lips in a deep kiss, tasting himself on you as he drags the tip of his cock through your slippery folds.
He doesn’t tease for long though. Soon enough, he’s pushing himself into your tight cunt. You both let out a symphony of sinful noises. Leon watches as your face contorts with pleasure as he stretches you out. You both felt a budding sense of satisfaction after finally receiving what you craved for the last several months.
He bottoms out inside of you. His head falls forward against your neck. He pants as he holds himself together and lets you adjust, keeping an iron grip on your hips. Your fluttering around him as you accommodate his girth. Your nails lightly dig into his back while you cling to him.
He begins thrusting with slow and deep strokes. You moan out his name a few times with a variety of expletives. He keeps his face buried in your neck, grunting as he feels the velvety sensation of your walls around his length. His motions become more fluid as he finds a rhythm with you.
“That’s right Angel, better than your dreams?” he murmurs against your neck.
“Yes, fuck, yes,” you whimper, “So much better. Think your cock was made for me.”
“That so, Baby? I’m made to fill up a precious girl like you? Keep you happy and full of cum,” he growls into your neck, his thrusts gaining intensity.
You nod thoughtlessly as he continues battering your insides, gliding over your sweet spot repeatedly.Your arms wrap tighter around him as you feel yourself getting dragged closer and closer to the edge. Your noises become more strained as Leon lays sloppy kisses on the side of your head.
He hooks his arms underneath your knees and brings your thighs up to your abdomen again. His arm loops around and thumbs your clit as he slams himself in and out. Your back arches and you squirm from the rush of white hot pleasure. You’re right there, not able to hold on for much longer.
“I’m gonna have you so full of my cum today, it’s gonna be dripping out of you still the next time you’re here,” he grunts into your ear, “Make sure your pussy remembers me till I can fill her again.”
His vulgar words rip a high pitched moan from your throat and cause your eyes to roll back. “Fuck, Leon, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.
“Go ahead, sweet girl. Squeeze me nice and tight,” he moans, his own voice getting strained.
You do as he says. The orgasm overtakes you. You release a strangled cry as your body rhythmically rolls into the feeling. Your pussy clamps around Leon tight, sucking him deep and keeping the attention on that blissful spot. The thrill of satisfaction rushing through your mind only works you further. Your eyes flutter and your lips part as you completely let go.
As he watches you cum, he notes that it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The sight of your gorgeous body writhing and trembling because of him. The primal sounds of your moans and cries. It’s too much for him. He growls and grunts into your neck, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He snaps even harder into you and floods you with his sticky, hot cum.
You both ride the waves of euphoria together until you both start coming down. He basically collapses on you as he catches his breath and you wipe the sweat from your brow. After a minute, he pushes himself off of you and flat on to the bed next to you. He gazes at the ceiling as his chest continues to rise and fall with the need for more oxygen.
You sit up slowly, realizing he probably wants you gone now. Like he said, you feel his cum leaking out of you as you move to grab your panties from the corner of his bed. This is how you expected it to be, but it still hurt a little. Nothing you couldn’t handle though. Your pulling them back on when your snapped out of your thoughts by Leon’s arm around your waist, dragging you to him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks teasingly, spooning you and softly kissing beneath your ear, “You got what you wanted and now you’re running out?”
“Oh, uhhh… I thought you’d want me to leave,” you say quietly.
He guides your face so you’re looking at him. His eyes are still soft but more serious. “You think I would just fuck you and then throw you out on your ass? You’ve been sleeping in my bed for months, but you don’t know me as well as you think,” he says and kisses your nose, “You don’t have anywhere to be today, yeah? You thought you’d be here till later anyway.”
You nod in agreement, your eyes casting down with some embarrassment over your assumption.
“Hey, don’t get all shy on me now. There’s no reason for it,” he teases, “We have all day for me to show you how I want to take care of you. Just give me a moment, I’m not as young as I use to be.”
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x y/n#resident evil x reader#resident evil imagines#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy imagine#resident evil smut
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hiiiiii I loveddd ur post abt high konig, could you maybe write a fic where its the readers first time trying it?
(ur page is like so good i luv it)
hi!!! literally thank you so much, it truly means so much to me that people are enjoying my blog <3333
per request here is a version of a previous fic about König's first time trying an edible and then fucking you silly, now it's the readers turn!!
cw: obvi (legal) drug use, (don't do drugs unless they're legal, safe, and you are of age <3), sex p in v, oral m receiving, porn w/ a little plot, pining, overstimulation, nastiness <3
wc: 2,000+
nsfw below the cut, you know the drill-mdni interact
“Hey König…” you cooed to your boyfriend who was sitting at the desk in your room, flipping through a book while you lounged on the bed. He returns your gaze, brows slightly furrowed, he recognizes your playful tone, knowing you're about to ask him something naughty.
“I was thinking..” you continue standing up from the bed and making your way over to him, dancing your fingertips across his shoulders. “That I wanted to try having sex…after I take an edible gummy.”
“Edible? Aren’t all gummies edible?? Ohhhh, like marijuana!” he replies back briefly running in mental circles as he puts the pieces together. His English is obviously very good but sometimes he takes things more literally/more at face value. “Of course I’d need your consent now since you would be inebriated and if you ever want to stop you need to tell me.” he adds taking on a more serious tone, whenever consent was being discussed he had no room for lightheartedness or joking, he took consent VERY seriously.
“Yes, I am consenting now to have sex with you while you are sober and I am high, and both of us have the option to stop at any point.” you reply, taking his hands in yours.
“Ok.” is all he responds with but he’s smiling so wide and there is a bright gleam in his eyes. He truly loves to try new things with you, especially when it makes you so happy.
So you go and grab your packet of gummies and pop one into your mouth. Then you suggest a shower to König since it will take about 30 minutes for the edible to kick in. Showering together is always such a treat. You get to be in a nice warm, wet environment while your own personal giant just beams down at you with nothing but adoration and enamor in his eyes. He loved these showers just as equally, his hands never leaving your soft, supple body, constantly pulling you impossibly closer to him.
After you both got out and dried off, you opted to just stay naked and lay with each other until you initiated more physical contact. He laid down on his back and you were draped on your side, the side of your face resting on his chest, slowly rising and falling. You could tell he was already getting a little worked up, I mean come on you were laying on him completely naked. As more and more minutes passed you felt your brain get a little fuzzy and it sort of felt like everything was moving slower. You realize you are absentmindedly massaging his abdomen with one of your hands you start to feel a buzz in between your legs, only made worse when you look down and see König’s growing dick, now completely pressed against his stomach. His poor tip furiously leaking, he was being so kind and patient with you, waiting ever so tranquil for you to make the next move.
Now, completely feeling the effects of the edible kicking in your entire body buzzes with excitement. Moving yourself to sit up a bit more, you start tracing kisses along his neck and chest, slow and purposeful kisses. Your inebriated mind could still have cheeky thoughts. You figured, since he was going to be nothing but patient with you, you might as well tease him. Now climbing on top of him, his hands immediately go to your lower half, shamelessly groping your hips and butt. You loved how he was able to grab so much of you with just one of his hands. Giving you soft squishies and gropes and you start to move your hips back and forth, not even realizing what you were doing.
Then getting a wicked idea, you reposition yourself slightly so that your now puffy and dripping core is gliding up and down his dick. Earning several whimpers from him, his grip on you tightened. Giving him a small chuckle you give him one last sloppy kiss, sloppy enough that when you pull away there is a line of spit connecting your mouths. Shimmying down between his legs with the biggest shit eating grin you have ever given him. You take his length into your hand and start to pump his base gently. Then before he could give any objection that you didn’t have to give him head since you were high or that he could go down on you first if you’d prefer. But you successfully cut him off by leaving open mouthed kisses all along his shaft, purposefully avoiding his ever leaking tip. Giggling to yourself you finally take his head in your mouth, first giving a little swirl of your tongue before bobbing up and down only on his tip while pumping the rest of him.
His cute face completely flushed, eyebrows furrowed, and panting as he looked down at you. Murmurs of praise leaving his lips, as one of his hands gently came to rest on your head. The sight in front of you just made you giggle more which made him feel more vibrations on his dick. Releasing him from your mouth with a wet pop, still palming his tip you ask, “Does that feel good baby?” in a sing-song voice as you trace kisses up his thigh.
“Oh my god Hase.” is all he can say back. He knows you’re teasing him, he knows exactly what you’re doing, but he cannot will himself to move you faster, its torture, but its blissful torture. You then continued your bobbing, each time taking more and more of him in your mouth and pumping what you couldn't reach with your hand. Snaking your other down, you start to gently massage his balls, and the combination of all these movements causes him to buck his hips into you, which only motivates you. You continue your motions until you hear his breathing get faster and his voice and whimpers grow higher and higher. Then when he warns you that he is about to cum, you speed up even faster, making him absolutely lose his mind. Tasting his cum sputter onto your tongue, you carefully swallow around him, knowing that it drives him insane. But you don’t stop there.
You pop him out of your mouth and quickly wrap both of your hands around his shaft, pumping him almost aggressively at this point. You also make sure to prop your elbows against his thighs so that he cannot close his legs.
“Liebe liebe liebe liebe!!!! Please…oh my go—-” is all he manages to get out as his body starts to thrash a bit from side to side, completely overwhelmed with all the stimulation you were giving him.
“Liebling I came I came please!” he mustered out again, pleading with you, his eyes full of desperation. It hurt so good but it also felt so good. Right now you were nothing but an evil little minx trying to break him down to his very core of desperation.
Finally, mercifully you stop pumping him, but torture him a little more by licking his dick clean, then tonguing your way up his chest, leaving open mouthed kisses all along his abdomen.
At this point you were beyond giddy with yourself, very proud of what you’ve been able to do so far, but now of course your core was aching for any sort of stimulation.
Losing a little bit of his gentle touch, König practically hauls your body up so that you are once again straddling him. His greedy lips pull you in with his mouth and he presses a firm hand to the middle of your back so that your torsos are pressed together. Giving him a mischievous look he quickly says, “No no no, how about you ride my fingers instead first hmmm?” He knew that his dick needed a break and that if he was able to redirect your attention to something else, you would soon get lost in it. Not to mention the fact that he really preferred not to be inside of you so quickly, without giving you a proper warm up.
Giving him a contented humm he repositions himself so that he is sitting up more. Then, gently he takes two of his fingers and glides them through your folds toying with your clit ever so slightly, using his other hand to hold your hip in place. Finally when he pushed his digits up into you, making you gasp, you just felt so good, too good. Leaning forward, you pressed your chest against his and started to kiss him, moaning into his mouth. Soon you found a rhythm together, you bouncing and grinding into his hand, his other hand guiding you, and your mouths just devouring each other.
He curls his hands so perfectly so that he hits your g-spot while his palm brushes against your clit over and over again. Feeling yourself get more desperate you pull away from him with a pleading look in your eyes.
“Do you wanna lay down?” he asks softly, smiling. You do as suggested and lay down on your back, spreading your legs as he kneels in front of you.
“Please fuck me” you say through half lidded eyes. He could do nothing but rake his eyes up and down your body. You were so perfect and kind to him and he truly liked this experience. Your high state made you more focused on your needs and pleasure. You allowed yourself to feel and react more naturally, and he is loving it.
Leaning forward he cages you in under his arms, bracing them on either side of you and envelopes your mouth in hungry kisses. After a little whining he finally kisses down your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. You let out a gasp as his tip enters you and he slowly eases his entire length into you.
“Oh my god…fuck König, it feels so good, I feel so full” you murmur to him, faces inches away from each other. In return, he starts to give you slow, dragging thrusts.
“Would you like me to go faster y/n?” he asks as he uses his fingertips to turn your chin toward him so that you are looking him in the eyes.
“Yes, yes faster please” you reply nodding up at him not breaking the eye contact which just about finished him off right there. But he took a deep breath and sped up his pace, snaking one hand between the two of you to rub circles around your clit.
After several minutes you cling to his neck and shoulders, letting out a slew of whimpers and moans.
“Please, please…I’m s’close…please” is all you are able to get out before he gives you a grin and angles his hips so he is hitting even deeper inside of you.
This is what does it for you. Wide eyed, brow furrowed, with your mouth agape you let out the prettiest, hottest moans he thinks he’s ever heard. “Cum around me shatz, please, let me feel you. I’ve got you, I’ve got you just let go.” is all he has to mutter for you to let go.
“Oh fuck, König! I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming. AA-OOhh my god!” you choke out as he continues his pace and fucks you through your orgasm, now chasing his own high. But for some reason, your orgasm wasn’t stopping, it just kept going, for longer than it normally does. In your drunken state you were still able to connect this to the edible you took.
“Oh my god shatz, fuck! I’m going to cum darling, where do you want me?” König gasped out, clearly losing any resolve he has left.
“In me! In me please, I wanna feel you, please cum in me baby please.” you respond although still stuck in the seemingly never ending orgasm you smile through your words. Your smile and half lidded look into his eyes is the last nail in the coffin for him and with a sputter of his thrusts he explodes inside of you, groaning into your ear in the ways that you love so much.
Then, finally you feel your orgasm start to dwindle down as he slows down his movements, before completely pulling out of you and bringing you to lay on your side next to him.
“I love you.” is all you are able to whisper to him as he pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms completely around you, legs tangled together, your hands coming up to cradle his face.
“I love you more.” he replies, pressing his lips to yours once more.
Needless to say your first time having sex while high was a success, and the two of you will be doing it much more often.
hehe tysm for reading, if you like this don't be shy hehe, check out my other content. also reminder that I am taking requests idc how niche they are, please feel free to ask if there's anything you'd like to see!
#könig smut#könig#könig x reader#könig cod#konig smut#konig x reader#call of duty smut#call of duty modern warfare#cod smut#cod mw2#konig mw2#konig cod#könig blurb#könig imagine#könig x you#konig blurb#konig imagine#konig headcanons
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Ok so I’ve seen you do dad Kaveh and Pantalone, but what if Cyno and/or Tighnari (they are a old married couple prove me wrong) adopted a (another) child? Have I nice day/night <3
fatherly duties.
summary. what is cyno like as a father?
trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. dad!cyno & reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns for reader.
author's thoughts. hello dear! i went with cyno for this particular post simply because i haven't really touched on what cyno would be like as a parental or otherwise male familial figure in any of my posts yet. i've done tighnari and kaveh as dads, but have never really talked about what cyno would be like as a father c: i projected all of my father issues onto this post LMAOOO
i personally think that cyno would be a slightly more strict father than some of the other sumeru characters.
he's not strict to the point where his child would not be able to trust him. he does not create a child that feels the need to lie and hide things from him. archons know he would never forgive himself if the child he loved so dearly was afraid of him to the point where they felt the need to be dishonest with him.
no, he does not raise a child like that. rather, cyno raises a responsible child who's first thought upon getting into trouble would be "i need to tell my dad" instead of "my dad is going to be so mad at me."
sure, he'll scold them if they get into trouble, especially trouble that could have been avoided, but punishing them for it? that's generally out of the question. they've likely already suffered the natural consequences of their actions. they don't need any more punishment than that.
he refuses to parent his child with fear.
he does not want terrified obedience. he wants genuine trust and respect. scaring his child into obedience would not create the respect he seeks.
cyno's coworkers probably think he's the cruelest, most emotionally unavailable father to ever exist LMAO
contrary to popular belief, cyno is neither of those things.
he's the kind of dad to cherish the moment rather than obsess over how that moment might impact their future. some fathers get angry when their child is resting during times they could be doing work. cyno does not. some fathers think that enjoying time with their children is a waste because said children could be doing work in that time. cyno does not.
i like to think he would encourage his child to go to the akademiya, but wouldn't push it. their value as his kid is not determined by academics or academic ability. if they don't want to go? cool. if they want to go? also cool, he'll just encourage them to be very careful and tell them to make sure that their classes don't consume their entire life.
after all, an excess of desire is a dangerous beast that needs to be tamed. cyno knows very well that this also applies to academics.
he will not raise his kid to believe that the pursuit of knowledge is more important than them as a person or more important than their health—mental, physical, or otherwise.
oh yeah, also...
bro makes ALL the dad jokes. he has told every single terrible dad joke imaginable.
he thrives on seeing his kid smile, even if they're laughing at how awful his jokes are rather than because they actually find the jokes funny. he just loves their smile.
he totally would teach his kid to play tcg
^ imagine if they beat him effortlessly during their first time playing LMAO
i think cyno would sometimes take them along with him on his nighttime desert strolls. he's fond of the desert, the place he hailed from; he would very much like it if his child could appreciate its beauty as well.
he is very protective. that's a given, i think.
"you're not dating anyone until you're 30" kind of vibes HSKRJHBKJSS
he's only joking, believe it or not. he's fine with his kid dating, but as i mentioned, he is very protective; if their partner turns out to be an asshole...
well, cyno would not take that lightly.
don't fuck with his kid.
he does not tolerate that kind of thing. his child is probably the most precious thing in his life. as their father, their parent, it is his responsibility to protect them and shield them from the many dangers that teyvat has to offer.
and believe me, protect them he will.
please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!
#aphelion's headcanons 🌸#favoniuslibrary#astronetwrk#platonic genshin x reader#platonic genshin impact#platonic genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#cyno x reader#platonic cyno x reader
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starboy - atsumu miya x fem!reader
wc: ~5.8k
cw: fem reader, on-page drug use, alcohol consumption, the reader has red hair and hazel eyes (sorry, not sorry), reader blushes, and a little angst towards the end.
a/n: 18+ only please. I use “--” to switch POVs in this fic and “ – – –” is a time skip. I really hope you like this silly little AU! It’s giving Wattpad kid grows up and uses Tumblr and AO3 now. Sorry there’s no smut in this, but I might write a part 2 (please don’t ask for one because that’ll kill my vibes). If you’re interested in the playlist mentioned that they listen to, I’ll be happy to link it!
Part 2
—
Every crowd is the same, but somehow different in a multitude of ways. It’s a dichotomy that Atsumu hasn’t quite figured out yet. After years of touring and performing he thought he knew about everything about entertaining a crowd and getting them riled up. He’d sold out more than enough shows to back this idea up.
However, on night two of touring his third studio album, he notices you in the crowd. The glitter on your eyes falling to your cheeks reflects the stage lighting and draws him to your eyes. That’s when he notices your red hair, the burgundy red is a sight to see. He winks like he would to anyone else, but something in him yearns to walk back down the catwalk to you again. He resists, knowing he needs to keep doing his job.
But, he does look for you the next night.
He’s glad to see you’re back. He’s noticed fans going to multiple shows before and has invited them to the after-parties for being so loyal, so he thinks he wants to extend the offer. The other girls that seem to stick around are nice enough, and the band never seems to mind. When he’s changing between the third and fourth song of the night, he tells his manager to send someone out to see if you want to join them after the show.
He’s happy to hear back after the show that you accepted.
Outside the city limits, the rented house is big enough for hundreds of people to move around freely, but Atsumu got over massive parties after his first tour. The glamor of the drinking, drugs, and even the people he thought he loved being around seemed to lose their shine. With only about 30 people here now, he’s much more comfortable in this space.
From his seat on the velvet couch with his brother, he notices you come in; walking through the door in the same outfit you’d worn to his show tonight. The glittery lavender tube top is something to see, but his eyes linger on your legs, covered in iridescent shimmering tights under white shorts. Your smile and wave to another girl across the room makes him look away.
“How many more nights are we staying in LA?” Osamu asks his brother, taking a rip from the bong after. The smoke floats above the brothers, whirling in the colorful lavender lighting.
“Two more, then the tour really kicks off in the States.” He tells him, taking the bong from him and taking a hit.
He coughs after the smoke leaves his body and Osamu laughs at him. Atsumu has tried plenty, but he’s no longer used to the feeling. He takes a sip of water, leaning back on the couch and stretching his legs out on the table, careful to avoid Osamu’s stash.
“I think this will be better than even last time,” he tells him. “I’m glad you decided to come with me.”
Osamu shrugs, “I needed a break from the restaurant.”
He’s not staying the whole tour with Atsumu, just the first leg of the U.S. tour, and then flying back home during the busy season at the restaurant. Osamu has been at his brother’s side since his early days trying to get a studio just to listen to one of his tracks, and now he’s watched him grow into one of the biggest Jpop stars in the world. He’d never tell him, but he’s proud.
How Atsumu gained his fame is quite the story, hard to believe really. Who would have thought that a little karaoke fun would have led to all this? It still shocks Atsumu to this day. Every night he wonders when the crowds will lessen, when the tickets will stop selling out, and when this dream will all be over.
“Can we join you?” Your unfamiliar voice sounds like a song Atsumu wants to write, but he shakes it off.
He’s slept with fans, had his fill, and he’s too old for this now. Nothing is exciting about someone who would do anything for you just because they are obsessed with you, not because they know you… the real you.
It’s just the excitement for the new tour that’s getting to him.
“Of course,” Osamu answers before Atsumu can tell you and your friend to sit.
Atsumu ignores the irritation that washes over him as you sit beside Osamu, your thighs touching. He ignores the way Osamu smiles and drapes his arm over your shoulder. He ignores the sting in his chest that’s unlike anything he’s felt before.
He looks away as your friend sits on the couch beside him.
–
Your friend starts talking to him and you notice Atsumu engages her in a friendly manner, but he’s reserved. Something you hadn’t expected. His brother, on the other hand, isn’t shy. The way Osamu’s thumb rubs circles onto your soft skin is enough to drive you wild. However, you don’t want to be that girl.
“Do you always tour with your brother?” You ask, making conversation. You know he doesn’t, but that won’t stop you from playing the part.
“No, I’ve never joined him before,” Osamu tells you and you look past him to Atsumu, he’s engaged in conversation with the girl you met tonight.
Honestly, tonight feels like a fanfiction you read when you were younger, getting to meet the band after the show and potentially fucking the lead or another member. The lead singer’s brother isn’t exactly who you imagined this playing out with, but you’re old enough now to know life is rarely like it is in stories… even if you did get invited to your favorite artist’s after-party. Despite the girl flinging herself towards Atsumu, after telling you that you couldn’t, you’re not going to let this ruin a good time.
However, when you look over at her and Atsumu, it seems like he’s more interested in the bottle of water between his hands than the girl on his right. Serves her right for being a bitch about you wanting to talk to him.
“Have you always been a fan?” Osamu asks you, and you realize you were probably spacing out.
“Oh, yeah. For the last few years anyway after his debut album.” You answer and he nods. This conversation is going nowhere. “Do you want a drink?” You ask him, seeing that his cup is empty.
He smiles and nods. “Come with me to refill it.”
–
Atsumu watches as you leave with his brother, disappearing into another room obscured from his view. He couldn’t hear what you were talking about with Osamu, thanks to the girl beside him rambling on about a festival she saw him at a few years ago. He can’t find it in him to care whatever she's saying about it.
Where is Osamu taking you? His irritation is present on his face, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed as if he can see through the walls.
“Are you listening to me?” The girl, whose name he’s sure she told him, asks him.
“Not really,” he smiles to soften the blow. “Excuse me,” he gets up off the couch, leaving her behind without glancing back for her reaction.
He finds Osamu at the bar with you, wrapped up in conversation and mixing a drink that you take a sip of as he approaches.
“Can I talk to you?” Atsumu asks his brother.
Osamu looks surprised but nods. “I’ll be back in a moment, doll.”
“Not her,” Atsumu tells him, his voice barely containing the blinding feelings he’s experiencing all at once. “Not tonight.”
“Calling dibs?” He smirks, a laugh falling from his lips. “Fine, fine,” he shrugs after seeing the look of irritation on his twin’s face. “I’ll go talk to the blonde you were ignoring then,” he says and leaves the room.
Atsumu watches as Osamu goes to the living room of the rented house. The girl’s face lights up when he speaks to her. She drops her phone on the couch beside her and gives him the attention she wasn’t receiving. He turns back and sees you, sipping from a red solo cup and looking defeated.
“Why so sad?” He asks, leaning on the bar and flashing his winning smile. Your eyes light up and he sees they’re hazel.
You shrug, “I’m not. Just bored.”
Bored… she’s bored?
–
Fuck, why did you say that to him? Atsumu Miya, the biggest star in Japan and maybe even the world right now… thinks you’re bored at his party.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you stutter your words, trying to change his confused look to one of more understanding. “I’m just, not used to this.”
He chuckles, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Oh, I get that.” He tells you. “I guess this is a lot for someone who hasn’t been to our tour before.”
“I’ve been to your other tours.” You fire back, brows furrowed.
“I’ve never seen you before tonight.” He grins, and you think he’s enjoying picking on you.
“I’ve never been able to afford front row before now. I’ve always been in the lower sections. I don’t think even your pretty eyes can see that far back.” You take a sip of the punch that has something in it, maybe vodka. You’re not well-versed in alcoholic beverages enough to differentiate between them.
“I see,” he says and looks up towards the ceiling, teetering back on his heels.
Something about this little movement takes you by surprise. It makes him… real? You knew he was a real person, of course, but something so casual never crossed your mind. That’s the thing with celebrity idolization, you lose their sense of humanity.
That��s weird, isn’t it? But… it’s true.
“You seem a little bored yourself,” you comment, setting your drink down on the bar, but keeping it in front of you. “Not enjoying your own party?”
He looks at you, something on his face you can’t quite read. “It’s just not the same as it used to be, ya know. It’s more of an obligation.”
“You shouldn’t live your life for others.” This time, he frowns at you.
–
Is she serious? The look on her face makes it seem so.
Atsumu laughs, running his hand through his hair, feeling the gel still in it from the show. “I don’t think that’s true with my profession.”
Everything about him is for others.
She shrugs, her red hair falling over her face. She brushes it away and tucks it behind her ear and he wishes he’d done it for her. “I don’t think that has to be true.”
He leans on the bar, his elbows against the wood and hands supporting his face. “If you say so.”
– – –
Osamu leaves after three weeks, but that’s a quarter of the tour. They visited 9 cities during this time, but the parties started to dwindle. Everything from the second night of his show in LA is still stuck in his head. Red hair and hazel eyes haunt his dreams, even now. Plus, he can’t get out of his head what she said.
You shouldn’t live your life for others.
Isn’t that what he’s always done? Each album, every show, every meet and greet, every television or radio appearance, it’s all been for them… the fans. He puts a piece of himself in it all.
How many more pieces does he have left?
“Astumu,” his manager's voice grabs his attention. “The bus is stopping for fuel. Do you want anything from the station?”
“I can go in. It’s late, there won’t be a crowd of people.” He likes to go do his own bidding when he can, even though many times it ends with security having to drag him through crowds.
His manager frowns. “We don’t have security ready to take you in.”
“Who the hell is going to be out this late? It’s 3 a.m. in the middle of nowhere outside Pittsburgh. No one will be there.” Atsumu says, probably more harshly than he intended.
He sighs, but his manager moves out of the way and lets him leave the tour bus. The chilly air hits his warm skin, making him shiver as he approaches the gas station. He recalls the last update from the driver. They’re only 60 or so miles south of Pittsburgh. Then they’ll spend three nights there for the two shows this weekend.
Atsumu was right, there’s almost no one here. The cashier looks half asleep at the register, and there are few cars in the lot. He turns towards the coolers full of drinks, looking for a Gatorade he likes. He locates the light blue color, opens the cooler, and grabs the cold drink.
As he turns, his eyes catch on red hair walking down the aisle next to his. He can’t help himself, he follows it.
“-----,” he says, shocked that you’re in this random gas station.
Looking at you, he takes in your appearance. So different from the night he met you. You’re in casual clothes, pink sweatpants hanging off your hips, with a matching sweatshirt. Your hair is still down, but something about it looks different, maybe it’s the waves in it. You’re without makeup too, but he’s never seen someone so beautiful.
“Atsumu?” You look as shocked as he is. “What are you doing here?” You wave your hand around, and he notices the bag of salt and vinegar chips you’re holding in it.
“Heading to Pittsburgh for our shows this weekend. What are YOU doing here?” Atsumu raises his brows, smiling at you.
“I, uh, I live here. Well, close to here.” You tell him, and he nods but is more confused than ever.
“Then why were you in LA for my show? Wouldn’t Pittsburgh be an easier show to go to for you?”
“Quite the interrogator, huh?” You laugh and Atsumu wants to record it and put it in a song. “If you must know, I won tickets and a hotel room by the venue on a radio contest. I was lucky caller number 7 and got two nights to see you.”
“Oh,” he never considered that. “Are you coming this weekend?”
“Oh no, I didn’t get tickets. They’re really expensive.”
Atsumu’s heart sinks. You won’t be there.
“Come with me. I think I can get you in.” He winks and you laugh. A few moments pass and he realizes you didn’t take it as seriously as he meant it. “I’m serious. Come with us.”
“Atsumu, you can’t be serious.” You laugh, cheeks blushing. He stares at you, again something on his face that you can’t quite read. “Oh, you are.”
He nods. “Pretty serious.”
“Look at me,” you gesture with your hands at your body. “I can’t just hop on the tour bus with you and head off to Pittsburgh. I don’t have anything on me.”
“I can get you whatever you need. I have assistants.” He feels desperate now like this moment is going to change the projection of his life. “Please, —--. I want you there.”
You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “Fine, but we have to go to my place and get my stuff.”
“We can do that!”
–
Atsumu is basically jumping with excitement and you wonder how in the absolute fuck this is happening right now. Of course, he’d find you on your 3 a.m. snack run when you look an absolute mess.
“Okay, let me just go pay for these,” you start to turn for the register, but Atsumu snatches the bag of chips and Dr. Pepper from your hands.
“I got these.” He smiles and the irritation leaves your body. Fuck it, he can afford it.
“Thank you,” you tell him, walking with him to the register. “Are you like… allowed to come with me to get my stuff or are you going to have to wait here for me?”
“Allowed?” He laughs, tapping his card on the card reader. The familiar ping rings in your ears as it accepts the charge. “Of course, I am. I do have autonomy, ya know.”
“Sorry, Mr. Pop Star. Didn’t know if there were any rules you have to follow.” You tell him as he opens the door for you.
“Well, we do need to go tell my manager.” He sighs. “He’s kind of a hard ass. But he can’t stop me.”
“Can I wait in my car for that?” You laugh, not wanting to awkwardly be standing there when they have it out over him going home with a strange girl.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “Which one is it?”
You unlock your car, the lights flashing. “That one. I’ll warm it up for us.”
The nights have begun to become chilly, fall setting in and all. You actually turned your heat on in your apartment tonight for the first time since late spring. You part ways, Atsumu heading towards the bus fueling area and you to your car. It’s a good fifteen minutes before you see him walking to your car, waving his hands with a big smile. You unlock the car and he slides in the passenger seat.
“Went well?” You ask.
“Oh, no. He’s absolutely pissed, but that’s not my problem.” He buckles himself in and you laugh.
“Well, he’s gonna be even more pissed when it takes an hour to get back. I live twenty minutes from here.”
“Oh well,” he shrugs as you put the car in drive.
The radio softly plays his second album and you feel your cheeks warm. “Sorry, I can change it,” you reach for the radio.
He stops you, his cold hand touching yours. You pull back, embarrassed and smiling.
“I like this one a lot. I wish we could still play it.” He tells you, turning it up.
“Why don’t you play it anymore?”
“It just didn’t do as well as others.” He shrugs and you feel bad. It’s not your favorite song, but it isn’t in your bottom tier either.
“You should play it tomorrow.”
“I’ll think about it,” he looks over at you and smiles.
The rest of the car ride you spend humming along to his second album, smiling and giggling when he sings certain lines to mess with you, and having genuinely one of the best times in your life. Hearing Atsumu live, even at his shows, has never sounded like this.
This feels… intimate.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” you say pulling into the apartment parking lot. “Please be quiet though. My roommate is sleeping. Plus she might scream if she sees you.”
“A fan?”
“Yes,” you roll your eyes and get out of the car.
Then you remember… the poster in your room…
“Oh. Um.” You stop him at the door of your apartment. “No laughing at me, but I might have your Rolling Stone cover on my bedroom wall.”
Atsumu laughs, shaking his head. His hair falls over his forehead. “That’s okay. I won’t tease you…. For now.”
“Fine,” you huff and open the door, welcoming him to the apartment. It’s dark so you turn on your flashlight on your phone “Remember, be quiet until we get to my room.”
He nods and follows you. You take off your shoes, and he does the same, then you show him to your room. To your surprise, he is quiet the whole way to your bedroom. Once you turn the lights on and shut the door behind him you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes immediately go to the poster adjacent to you.
“Remember, don’t laugh at me.” You turn to him and he puts his hands up in defense, a goofy smile on his face. “Also, I’m sorry about the state of my room.” There are clothes strung about, makeup here and there, and who knows what else is all over your dresser.
“As long as you don’t judge the tour bus, I won’t judge you,” he shrugs and doesn’t look around at the mess.
You pick up a few shirts on your way to the closet, tossing them in a basket to wash later. Honestly, they could be clean and just left out while you were getting dressed and forgotten about, but you don’t want to take the risk.
Atsumu is still standing awkwardly by the door.
“You can sit on my bed if you want,” you laugh, patting the duvet. At least your bed was made tonight.
He sits, crossing his legs and watching you as you go through your stuff to decide what to bring. It takes a few minutes to decide what you want to wear to the shows, but longer to decide what makeup to throw into a bag to go with them. It’s all probably too much but you finally finish packing.
“All done!” You declare, turning with two bags to face Atsumu.
You go to take a step, but your foot catches on a pair of shorts on the floor and you fall on the bed, on top of Atsumu. He reacts, catching you and falling back onto the bed with you hovering over him. He smiles, his face so close to yours now.
“Are you alright?” He asks, barely above a whisper.
You part your lips to speak, but you can’t so you close them. Your heart pounds in your chest. Hyper-aware of Atsumu’s hands on your waist, the feeling of your lower bodies smooshed against each other, and his lips oh so close to yours.
“Yes,” you finally get out and you feel yourself moving towards his lips.
No, you’re not moving; he is.
Atsumu’s lips brush against yours, his right hand leaving your waist and cupping your cheek. His lips are warm and taste sweet like a sugary drink. You kiss him back, trying to will your heart to slow down, sure he can feel it pounding in your chest. His thumb rubs against your cheek, the feeling sending shivers down your spine.
You pull away slowly, catching your breath and looking at Atsumu’s smile.
–
The way you look at him takes his breath away. That kiss, that feeling, it was unlike anything he’d experienced before. He’s aware of how he’s reacting, wondering if you can feel him through his and your pants or if he’s lucky enough that you don’t think he’s a creep.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and he brushes your hair away from your face and behind your ear.
“I’m not.” He’s regretted things in his life, and this will never be one of them.
You smile and he feels himself relax, “I’m not really sorry either. Well except for the falling on you. That was kinda embarrassing.”
He laughs, laying his head back on the bed and looking up at the ceiling. All of this feels surreal, even with his life the way it is. He watches as you move off of him, picking up the bags you dropped and shoving a few last-minute items into the larger one.
“Ready to go?” You ask him and he rolls off the bed and stands.
“Are you?” He grabs your waist, pulls you into him again, and kisses your forehead.
You feel hot against his lips and he wonders if it’s because of him. When he looks at you again, your cheeks are flushed, so it definitely is because of him.
“Let me take those,” he grabs the straps of your bags as you relinquish them, allowing him to toss them over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” you smile at him and he follows you out of the apartment and to your car.
“You should show me some other music you like on the drive back,” he tells you, placing your bags in the back seat.
“I’ll let you look at my Spotify and choose,” you smile, starting the car and handing your phone to him.
“Let’s see what we’re working with here.” He scrolls through your playlists, laughing at the one random country playlist with early 2000s music in it, and selects one of them.
“Are you serious?” You turn your head and stare at him, waiting for the light to turn green. “Not this one.”
“Too late,” he laughs. “You said I could choose.”
The car ride is filled with silly country songs he chooses, each one making you yell at him for picking it. He even forced you to explain why you selected each one for the playlist. He can’t remember the last time he had this much fun with someone.
You pull the car into the gas station parking lot, pulling up close to the tour bus. He looks at the clock and sees it at half past 4. He hopes that he’s able to sleep at least for a few hours on the bus. He watches as you get out, giving himself a second to gather his thoughts before getting out and grabbing your bags.
To his surprise, his manager doesn’t say anything when they get on the bus. He looks at you, but he can tell it’s not bothering you at least. He shows you to the back of the bus, his room for all intents and purposes.
“You can put your stuff anywhere you want. We’ll have a hotel room when we get to Pittsburgh soon.” He says then realizes you might want your own room. “Should we ask for your own room?”
“Do you want me to be in my own room?” You ask him and he shakes his head.
“I’d hate that, honestly.”
“Then I’ll stay with you.” You move to sit on the bed, looking around the room. “So, this is how Japan’s sweetheart lives on the road.”
“It’s as glamorous as it looks,” he laughs, laying on the bed on his side, his head propped up by his hand. “You get used to it pretty quickly, really.”
You lay down, on your back but turn your face towards him. “Don’t you miss being home, though?”
He shrugs, “Sometimes. I miss my family more than that really. I was glad Osamu stayed with us up until recently, but I won’t see my mom until the end of the tour.”
“I’m sure she’s proud of you.” You tell him and he feels his chest warming. You yawn and he realizes how late, well early, it is.
“You should sleep until we get to Pittsburgh,” he tells you.
“You should too,” you tell him, eyes fluttering shut.
–
When you wake up, Atsumu is draped around you, his breath warm on your neck. You smile, taking it in and enjoying the quiet sounds of his breathing. His body is warm against yours and you’re surprised by how comforting this feels.
How is any of this real?
Yesterday you were working and then decided you needed a break from your dissertation and decided to go get snacks. Now, you’re sleeping on Atsumu’s tour bus in his bed going to his weekend shows.
A knock on the door grabs your attention and you nudge Atsumu.
“‘Tsumu,” you whisper, “someone is at the door.”
“Probably Jeff.” He whispers back. “My manager.” He tears himself off of you and goes to the door.
“We’re in Pittsburgh. Decided to let you sleep here for a few hours, but we need to check in to the hotel and then get to the venue for sound check.” Jeff sounds no-nonsense through the door. “Get your stuff and let's get moving.”
Atusmu shuts the door and you set up on the bed. “Please tell me your hotel room has a bathroom.”
Atusmu laughs, “Of course it does.”
You gather your bags, grateful you didn’t unpack anything and Atsumu helps you take it up to his hotel room. To your surprise it isn’t in the downtown area close to the venue, but instead closer to the suburbs. Perhaps it’s easier for him to have some privacy this way?
The hotel room is the largest you’ve ever been in. The room is as large as your apartment, truly. This is more like what you envisioned when you thought about what it would be like to be on tour with Atsumu, and what fanfictions described.
“I call dibs on the bathroom first,” you say, laughing but completely serious.
“All yours,” he throws himself on the king-sized bed, seeming to fall asleep instantly.
You brush your teeth first before hopping in the shower and taking an everything shower. You scrub, shave, wash your hair and face, and then moisturize your entire body after. As you’re drying your hair with the hotel dryer, you wonder if it's bothering Atsumu’s rest. You peek your head out of the door, still wrapped in the hotel robe.
Atsumu is standing in the middle of the room at the round dining table, eating a slice of orange. “Hey,” he raises his eyebrows, and you close the robe more across your chest.
“Did you order breakfast?” You ask walking in to sit at the table, clearly full of the food he ordered.
“Jeff probably did,” he tells you and sits next to you. “He sent more than enough, clearly.”
You load up a plate with eggs, bacon, and fruit. “Give him my thanks,” you laugh and begin eating.
As you eat together, Atsumu gives you a rundown of tonight's plans, the show isn’t until 7 and he doesn’t go on until about 8. So you have lots of time to kill, but there’s still soundcheck in the late afternoon. But, the plan is to just hang out here until then.
“Plenty of time for me to destroy this hotel room and get you in trouble,” you tease.
“Oh please,” he laughs. “They’d never believe it was me. I have a perfect record of leaving everywhere I stay in great condition.”
“Whoa, goody-two-shoes on our hands.” You tease and he throws a grape at you. “Oh, there goes your clean record.” You say as it hits the floor and he rolls his eyes.
– – –
Atsumu paces around the room and you notice he’s flexing his hands a lot. He’s dressed in a similar outfit he wore in LA, but a slightly different design. The gold sparkles compliment his skin, and you can’t ignore how nice his muscles look. The vest without a shirt is a good look on him.
“Nervous?” You ask, picking at the black skirt you chose for tonight.
“Excited,” he replies. “I love doing this. It makes it all worth it.”
You can’t help but smile back at him, he looks like he’s glowing and he’s not even under stage lighting yet. Maybe he was born for this.
“So, I get to sit in this cozy room and enjoy the show on this television while you perform?” You ask.
“Or, you can come backstage and stand near Jeff. He might not be the best conversationalist, though.” He suggests and you shake your head.
“If I’m here I’ll at least get to see you change throughout the show.”
“Pervert,” he teases and you shrug.
“I’m basically living every fan’s dream right now, let me enjoy it.” You stand up, walking towards him and he takes your hands in his.
“I hope I’m living up to your expectations,” he looks a little sad and you cock your head.
“This is more than I ever imagined.”
He smiles now, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours. “Wish me luck,” he says softly.
You break the space between you and kiss him softly. “Good luck,” you whisper against his lips.
He hugs you tightly before pulling away and leaving the room to go get in position to take the stage for tonight’s show. You sit back on a chair in the green room, watching the screen as the cameras start to focus on the stage. The show’s set is just like the two nights you spent in LA until he plays the song you requested. He dedicates it to a special someone, and you want to cry.
He has to mean you, right?
There isn’t anyone else he’s doing this with, right?
You’d be naive to believe he isn’t doing this in every city, but some part of you is holding onto a nugget of hope that what he’s showing you is real. However, even if it isn’t you’ll remember this for the rest of your life.
He joins you for a few minutes a third of the way through the show, and you get to tell him he’s doing amazing. He kisses you before he goes, and then this repeats once more when he changes again. Once the show is over, the band joins him in the green room and you don’t get much time to talk to him. You socialize with everyone, but ultimately end up back at Atsumu’s hotel room. He’s still riding off his high, talking about different nights of the show and how tonight compares.
“I don’t think there’s been a better crowd, truly.” He tells you, tossing himself back onto the bed.
You smile and laugh. “Maybe the East Coast is just better than the West.”
“Maybe,” he laughs and sits up on the bed. “Would it be weird if I asked if you wanted to shower with me?”
You stop moving, “I- uh-” you stutter and shake your head.
He gets off the bed, crosses the room to you, and kisses you. “You can say no, it won’t break my heart.”
He disappears into the bathroom and you let out a sigh of relief.
–
After Atsumu showers, he finds you on the couch, half asleep watching a rerun of a sitcom he’s not familiar with.
“Hey,” he says softly, stroking your hair. “The bathroom is free if you need it.”
You come to and nod. “Thank you,” you yawn before going to the bathroom.
When you emerge you're in black pajamas and your hair braided into two braids. Atsumu can’t take his eyes off of you. He can’t deny your beauty when you’re all done up, but this is something else. He feels like he’s in the presence of a deity.
When you crawl into bed, he pulls you against him, kissing you deeply. You gasp against his lips and he chuckles. He rolls you onto your back, hovering over you and parting your legs with his knee. You whimper as he grazes your core, but he controls himself.
In his head, he hears the melody of the moans he’d bring out of you and feels himself getting hard.
“Atsumu, wait,” you put your hands on his chest and he pulls away.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, pulling away from your lips and looking down at you.
Tears are threatening to spill out of those pretty hazel eyes.
“I can’t do this. I want to go home.”
#atsumu miya#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu#miya atsumu fluff#atsumu miya fluff#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff
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Have Your Cake And Eat It Too
Chapter Nine of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Ten
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 5.5K
Chapter Overview: Wednesday brings a date and Friday brings an unwelcome fate
TW: Oral (f&m receiving), Fingering
Notes: hey everyone !! sorry for the delay to my unofficial posting schedule ! i was battling writers block and life threw a bunch of bullshit at me this week. in better news...i got a kitten today ! my friends were fostering four kittens and I fell in love with one and now we are basically soulmates. ANYWAY... there has been a small resurgence for my One Condition (reader x Din Djarin) fic recently which has made me smile ((: i updated the tag list so let me know if i missed you/ you want to be added ! as usual...my asks are always open & happy reading <3
*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Frankie’s house hasn’t been this clean since he first bought it. He isn’t a dirty man, he is probably one of the cleanest he knows if he's being honest, but suddenly everything looked dull compared to your sparkle. The chemical fumes from all of the products he is using have made him light headed. He just cracks open some of his kitchen windows and keeps on working. He has been deep in soap and suds since he got off work today at 7:30 P.M.. So far he has managed to vacuum off of the carpets and rugs, wipe down all the sinks and scrubbed the toilet (he even made sure to put the seat down), cloroxed the stove and the countertops, fluffed the couches pillows, and put fresh sheets on his bed.
Last night after his ‘work meeting’, he ran to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for your date this Wednesday. You both decided on a quiet night in since your weeks have been surprisingly busy. Neither one of y’all had the energy to battle the busy crowds of a restaurant. He left the store with chicken, potatoes, asparagus, and some extra spices he didn’t already have. As soon as he got home that evening, he began making a marinade for the chicken so it could soak overnight. He spent his entire lunch break today sifting through dozens of different recipes on how to best prepare asparagus and calculating how much time he would have to put all the food together before you arrived tonight. When you texted him to confirm that 9:30 was still a good time for you to come over, he answered quickly saying ‘yes, but take your time closing with Benny’. He was filled with a combination of happiness and stress when you told him that Benny graciously told you that you didn’t need to help close tonight because you had a date. Damn, there goes the extra padding of time he thought he might have. He wanted to see you so badly, but he also wanted to be finished before you arrived so he wouldn't be distracted by cooking. You were the only thing that he wanted to give his undivided attention to.
***
You’re practically vibrating in the front seat as you pull up to Frankie’s house. Much to your dismay, he refused to tell you what he was preparing for dinner. If you didn’t know what the two of you were eating, the option of buying a wine to pair with it was obviously out of the question. Well, when in doubt, make a chocolate chip bundt cake. Your only worry now is that he had already made something sweet. You park in his driveway like he told you and you take the cake’s carrying case from the passenger seat out of the car with you. After setting the dessert on the roof of the car, you look down at the casual dress you decided to wear. It’s comfortable and flowy which fits the warm Florida weather perfectly and the color of the fabric compliments your skin effortlessly. You didn’t want to over dress since the date is only at his house, but you still wanted to look nice for him to show that you care. Figuring that there isn’t any point in dwelling on your clothing choice since there is no time to go home and change, you pop your trunk to grab the overnight bag that you packed. Frankie not so subtly mentioned that by the time dinner was over it would be ‘too late to drive home’ and that it would be ‘much safer’ for you to spend the night. Who were you to argue with his bulletproof logic? You swing the bag over your shoulder, collect the cake, and walk yourself up to his front door. The mouth watering smells coming from inside have managed to leak their way past the door and tease you and your empty stomach. You knock with your foot as your hands are a bit occupied by what you’re currently carrying.
When he opens the door the two of you are quiet for a split second as you take each other in. His hair is on full display now with the absence of his cap. You suspect that it might have something to do with the shower he took. The ends of his curls are still damp from the water. He’s wearing jeans that you don’t think you have seen him in before and a crisp looking white henley.
“Wow.” Frankie feels exactly the way he did when he first saw your photo on Benny’s phone. “You’re beautiful.”
“You don’t clean up too badly yourself.” You blush.
He leans down and kisses you, but as he pulls away you notice that he slipped the cake carrier out of your hand.
“Hey! You don’t have to-”
“But I want to. Remember?” He gives you a playful wink before waving you inside.
If you thought it smelled good on his front stoop, there are hardly words to describe how it smells inside. The whole house is warm with the scent of cooking chicken. It’s the kind of smell that feels like it's wrapping your whole body in a hug. While restaurants are wonderful, nothing compares to homemade cooking. The two of you walk into the kitchen and you spot an electric grill on the counter with four thick chicken breasts cooking on it. As you walk further in, you see that he has two trays of food heating in the oven.
“You did all of this yourself? It looks amazing!” You say walking over to set both your purse and your overnight bag down by the couch. “Can I help with anything?”
“Uhhh,” An alarm goes off on the oven as he starts to flip the meat on the grill. “Actually, help would be great. Would you mind taking the potatoes and asparagus out of the oven for me while I handle this? I have mitts that you can use to grab them in that drawer right there.”
You locate the drawer and take out a set of oven mitts and two pot holders. The pot holders you place on the counter beside the oven so the trays will have a place to be set so they can cool. You open the oven and take each tray out carefully and set them down in their respective spots.
“Okay, what next?” You ask.
“I printed out the recipe I’m using for the asparagus. It should be over there by you.”
“You printed out the recipe?” You laugh, turning to look at the man next to you.
“What? I like to have a physical copy of things. The text on my phone is just too small to read sometimes and it's annoying that it turns off when I’m in the middle of looking at it.”
“Those aren’t bad reasons.” You confess as you pick up the paper. “Have you thought about getting glasses? You know, so you can see your phone better?”
“I don’t want to get glasses.” You have to stifle another laugh because he sounds like a grumpy child right now.
“And why is that?” You walk around him to grab the lemon in his fruit basket that the recipe calls for.
“They are going to make me look…” He mumbles the last word in the sentence so you can't hear it clearly.
“They are going to make you look what?” You press while slicing the lemon in half so you can squeeze its juice over the vegetables.
“Old.”
“Frankie!” You stop what you’re doing and face him directly. “You are not going to look ‘old’ with glasses! You aren’t even old to begin with.”
“I’m almost 45.” He counters. “Hold that plate for me, please.”
You do as he asks, but you aren’t done with this discussion. “I’m a few years shy of 30. Do you think I’m old?”
“No! Of course I don’t think that!”
“Then what’s your point? You only have a couple years on me.”
“A couple?” He raises his eyebrows.
“Shut up and finish plating the chicken will you? The bottom line is that you won’t look old. If anything you’re going to look even more handsome. I like the way glasses look on men.” You smirk.
“I’ll think about it.” He blushes. “For you.”
“Do it because you want to see, Frankie! Now help me over here.”
The two of you talk back and forth while you finish the asparagus and he prepares the baked potatoes. This is a different kind of intimacy than you are used to. The intimacy that you had come to associate with partners was skin on skin contact and hands tangled in hair, but this is seemingly more personal. You could have sex with anyone you wanted at any time you wanted, but fucking someone doesn’t make you compatible with them. You don’t have to talk during sex, like really talk. Standing shoulder to shoulder with someone while you cook and casually talk about summer vacations you each went on as children or pets you had growing up was intimacy that you didn’t know you were lacking, that you were craving. This was the kind of intimacy that you only thought lived in between the pages of a book.
“Oh my God! This is so good! I haven't eaten like this in forever!”
Dinner finally found its way to each of your plates along with a cold beer to wash it down.
“It’s just a hobby, but I’m glad you like it.” He smiles, cutting another bite of food for himself. “The guys and I sometimes take turns cooking dinner when we go over to each other's places when we watch the game or before beach trips.”
“Benny was telling me about those a few weeks ago actually! He said that y’all haven’t had one in a while because life has gotten in the way. What would you say if we went during a weekend in March? My friend Robbie, the one I told you about last weekend, is coming down to visit me then and what better way is there to introduce her to Florida?”
“That sounds really nice. It will be great to go with you, Robbie, and the guys. God knows we could all use a break.”
Speaking of the guys,” Questions that have been plaguing you since you first looked at the contents of his room swim to the tip of your tongue. “What did all of y’all do when you were in the service? Like your jobs?”
“What a question.” He reclines back in his chair. “Let’s see…Pope was the man with the plan. He was always plotting the best entry and exit point for us on missions. He was usually the one that found us the job in the first place too. Will was the one who kept us all on task and on time. I've never met another person alive who keeps track of things the way he does. He has actually kept count of every single speech he has given at the VA.” He chuckles.
“Why am I not surprised?” You love how he looks when he is discussing his friends. He’s so full of love and pride.
“Benny was the guns. We can all shoot really well, I mean that's what we were trained to do, but Benny can shoot ridiculously well.” He stops to take a sip of his beer. “We had a captain as well. His name was Tom, but he was Redfly to us. He was the one who led all of the missions we went on.”
“Is that the man in the group photo that you have in your bedroom?”
“You saw that, huh? Yeah, that’s him. He,” Frankie clears his throat. “He moved away about a year ago and unfortunately we fell out of touch. But, that's what all our jobs were.”
“And you?” You’re resting your head in the palms of your hands with the look of curiosity painted across your face. ‘What did you do?”
“I was- I was the pilot. Whatever needed to be driven or flown on a mission, I was the man to do it. Vehicles are nice, don't get me wrong, but flying? God, there isn’t anything else like it in the world.”
“What does it feel like?” Your dinner grows colder, but your heart grows warmer as he talks.
“I don’t think I can do it justice, but I’ll try. When I’m in the cockpit of a helicopter, I feel so at peace. It sounds weird to say that operating a machine that weighs tons of pounds can give me that feeling, but it's the truth. Nothing can take it away either. Not the guys yelling over the headsets that we have to wear inside, not the chaos of whatever mission we are currently on, not even the millions of beeping sounds coming from the controls. It's just me and the open sky.”
“What’s been your favorite view?” You could listen to him talk about this for hours.
“Apart from the one I currently have right now? That's going to be hard to pick.” You have to temporarily look away from him to hide how hard you’re blushing at his comment. “I would have to say it was when I was piloting a helicopter over some mountains. The mountains themselves were beautiful, but as soon as we got close enough, the sun peaked out from behind them. It made the mountains look like they had halos.”
“I would give anything to see something like that.” You say wistfully.
“I could, if you wanted, show you sometime.”
“Oh my God! Really? Frankie, are you serious? You would do that?”
“Of course I’m serious! I want you to experience it first hand.” His million dollar smile slips for a fraction of a second. “It might take me a while to get my hands on a helicopter though.”
“I don’t mind waiting.” You rest your hand over his on the table. “At the risk of sounding corny, the best things in life are always worth the wait.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He turns his hand over so that your palms are touching. “Do you want to cut some slices of cake and curl up on the couch to watch some TV?”
He takes your squeal of excitement as a ‘yes’. You work together to pack up all of the leftovers and load the dishwasher. He tries to cut the cake himself, but you shoo him away.
“You have done enough work for one day. Let me take care of the cake at least. Why don’t you go relax on the couch and find something for us to watch?”
You cut two hearty pieces and set them on plates for the both of you. It's shocking how natural it feels to exist with him like this. There isn’t a label on what y’all have, but you don’t mind right now. All that matters is that you’re enjoying yourself and you wouldn’t want to spend your Wednesday night any other way.
“Alrighty.” You set down the plates along with two forks on the coffee table. “What did you find?”
“How do you feel about Narcos Mexico?
“I’ve been meaning to start that one actually!” You plop yourself down on the couch next to him. “Robbie and I binged Narcos when it first came out. We finished it in a matter of days. It was probably a little unhealthy now that I think about it. She had the biggest crush on Murphy, but I was partial to Peña.”
“Should I be worried?” He hits play and adjusts his arm so that it drapes over the back of the couch. His fingers are able to brush over your collarbone rhythmically.
“I wouldn’t say so.” You look up at him. “Lucky for you, I prefer the real thing over something fictional any day.”
“Lucky for me indeed.”
He takes the hand that is toying with your collarbone and uses it to gently tilt your chin up towards him. Your lips are captured by his in a kiss. Without warning a low moan comes from your throat. It had only been two days since he had touched you last, but why did it feel like a lifetime? His free hand slides up your thigh, taking the hem of your dress with it. He can feel your pulse quicken and your breath hitch when he moves your underwear to the side and starts to rub circles on you. His voice is strained and raspy when he speaks to you.
“I missed the way you felt around my fingers, mi estrella.” One of his fingers finds its way inside of you. “So tight I can barely move.”
His words have you clenching around him and gasping for air when you feel yourself stretching to allow another finger in. Your back arches off the couch as he makes contact with the spongy spot inside you.
“Do you know what you’re doing to me? I could hardly get any work done these past few days because you’re all I can think about.”
Your head falls back against the plush pillows of the couch. He presses sloppy kisses along your jawline as your mouth parts to allow shallow breaths and quiet moans to escape.
“Look at this beautiful neck.” His tongue charts a warm, slick path up it. “God, I wonder what it would look like with my hand wrapped around it?”
You stretch your neck out for him as if to silently say ‘come and find out for yourself’.
The hand that he initially used to tilt your head up comes to snuggly wrap around your throat. With each squeeze, pump of his fingers, and rub of your clit you can feel yourself start to gradually lose control.
“That’s it, pretty girl. I want you to soak my fingers.”
Even with his hand restricting your airway, your moans have gone from quiet to boisterously loud. You can hear him groaning in your ear as he watches his fingers disappear inside your wet pussy over and over again.
“That feels so fucking good.” You gasp out.
You can feel your legs starting to shake and the fire in your lower belly aching to be put out.
“Let go for me.” He whispers.
You cry out as your orgasm rips through your body. He guides you through your bliss with honeyed words.
“So fucking pretty coming all over my fingers. Such a good girl for me.”
When he reluctantly takes his fingers out of you, you grab his wrist with your hand and bring his drenched fingers to your waiting lips. You can see him watching you with lust clouded eyes from your peripheral vision as you take them in your mouth. You allow your tongue to glide across and lick them clean of the mess that you just made. After you are content with your work, you pull them from your mouth with a satisfying pop and lazily roll your head so you can face Frankie.
“It’s your turn.”
“Oh?” He’s breathing almost as hard as you are.
“I want you in my mouth next.”
“Oh.”
Without breaking eye contact, you lower yourself onto your knees and situate your body in between his legs. He scoots down deeper into the couch and opens his legs wider. His lids hang low on his eyes as he undoes his belt for you. When he’s done, you take over by unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper down. Your mouth starts watering when you pull him free from his boxers. As you take him in your hand a guttural moan comes from the man in front of you. You tap the tip on your tongue a few times before wrapping your lips around it. Beads of pre come dissolve in your mouth as you begin to suck.
You take your time with him. Only taking him deeper into your hot mouth every once and a while. His hand comes up to pull your hair out of your way. His words go from slurred to unable to understand when you attach your lips to his balls. Your hand continues to pump him while you kiss and suck below the shaft. His thighs twitch and jerk with every touch you grant him. Licking a long stripe up his length, you connect your mouth to him again while your hands work in tandem. You dare to take a peek at the man coming undone above you. God, he’s breathtaking. Once perfect hair, now going every which way, sweat making his forehead shine, and plump lips being pushed out by his ragged breathing. You can feel yourself grow wet for him all over again.
“Fuck, I love the way you look with my cock in your mouth.” He fumbles out. “It feels like your mouth was made for me.”
Even with your hollowed out cheeks beginning to burn, you keep pushing yourself. You want him to feel as good as he makes you feel. When his stomach starts to heave, you know he’s close. You take him all the way down your throat. The coarse hair at his base brushes against your nose and you can feel tears trickling their way down your cheeks.
“I’m gonna come.” He speaks frantically.
You place your hands on his thighs and keep him deep inside your mouth. Immoral sounds erupt from him as he spills down your throat. You hum as you feel it going down. You pull off of him, but softly lick him clean as he lays disheveled against the cushions. He watches with intense infatuation as you use your finger to gather some of him that is left on your lower lip and push it to your tongue. You smile contently at him as he reaches down to pull you into his lap. He wastes no time tasting himself on you. In some possessive corner of his brain, he can’t help but feel like you are his now. He hasn’t said it out loud yet, but he hopes you can feel the genuine care he has for you in the way he kisses you. He hopes you can feel it in the way that he touches you.
“Let’s go to bed.” You breathe into him.
“Something tells me we won’t be getting much sleep.” He says standing with you in his arms. “I don’t mind one bit.”
***
The majority of your Friday shift is spent selling tickets for the fights this evening. You were excited to attend this week's match on Frankie’s arm. Honestly, you were excited to see Will and Santi as well. Between juggling your dad and trying to see Frankie as much as possible, you hadn’t had any quality time with your other two friends.
“I have a problem.” Benny pokes his head around the brick wall that separates you from the rest of the gym. “But I think you can solve it. If you don’t kill me first that is.”
“I feel like I’m going to regret asking this, but,” You spin your chair around to face him. “What can I do for you, Benny?”
“So you know my regular ring girl? The one that has those cool purple streaks in her hair?” You nod in confirmation. “Well, she just texted me sayin’ that she has the flu.”
“You’re kidding.” You know exactly where he is going with this.
“I wish I was.” He’s now standing awkwardly in front of you. “However, like I said before, I think you can help me.”
“Are you asking me to be your ring girl for the night?”
“Please!” He has his hands clasped together as if he’s praying. “It would only be for one night! I know that you were plannin’ to hang out with the other guys, but I really need you!”
“Benny, I- I don’t even have clothes to wear.” You gesture down to your current attire. “I don’t think this would suffice.”
“That’s where I come in.” He says proudly. “My other ring girl is about the same size as you and the new outfit that I ordered for her just so happened to be delivered to my house last night.”
“You’re the one that orders the outfits?”
“Well, she technically picked it out, but I just ordered it so I could put it on the company card. So, what do you say?”
“Let me see the outfit first.”
Much to your chagrin, he heads back into his office and comes back with the package and a pair of black thigh high boots. “Go change! I’ll be waitin’ right outside for you!”
You snatch the items out of his hands and head back into the locker room. As much as you hated that so few women came to the gym, it was nice to have the whole room to yourself. You set the boots on the ground and tear open the package. The top is an extremely high cropped white collared shirt that ties in the front and the skirt is pleated with a red and black checkered pattern. You can’t do anything else but laugh when you finally pull the fishnets out. The things you do for friends.
“Okay! I’m coming out!”
Benny can hear you before he sees you. Your new heeled boots echo throughout the locker room as you exit.
“God damn.” He lets out a low whistle. “Fish is one lucky man.”
“I feel like Britney Spears in her ‘...Baby One More Time’ music video.” You rest your hands on your hips.
The skirt's short length is accentuated by the fishnets and how tall the boots go up on your thighs. The shirt’s tie sits above your belly button. This whole look leaves very little to the imagination.
“Well, I think you look great!”
“It’s not too much?” You twirl to give him a 360 view. “It’s kinda fun to wear.”
“See?! I promise it’s just for tonight, unless you want to give it another go?”
“Let’s just take it one week at a time, okay?”
“I can live with that.”
He starts to head to the front desk when the doorbell chimes out, but you call after him.
“Benny?”
“What’s up?”
“Can you- I don’t really know how to ask this- can you watch me tonight? Like make sure no one tries to bother me?”
His face softens at your request. You know that he understands who you’re talking about. “I promise that the guys and I won’t let anythin’ happen to you. You’re our girl and we’ll watch you like a hawk.”
“That means a lot to me.”
You hurry yourself back into the sanctuary of the women's side of the locker room before you give the guest waiting at the front desk a preview. Before you take your new outfit off you take a picture of yourself and send it to Robbie. She responds by firing off multiple messages that should never be allowed to see the light of day. Robbie always had a unique way of making your ego flair up. Armed with your newly gassed up confidence, you send the picture to Frankie. He responds almost instantly.
Frankie: What are you wearing?
You: What? You don’t like it?
Frankie: I never said that.
You: Benny’s usual ring girl is sick. You’re looking at Brass Knuckles ring girl for the evening.
Frankie: I’m looking alright. I hope Benny knows that he’s not getting that outfit back after tonight.
You: And why is that?
Frankie: Because I’m going to tear it off of you piece by piece. There won’t be an outfit to give back.
You rub your thighs together anxiously as you see another text bubble pop up.
Frankie: How am I supposed to focus for the next few hours with this photo of you living in my head?
You: You better figure it out because if you don’t, you will be to busy playing catch up to fuck me after the fights.
Frankie: You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?
You: I know (:
Giggling to yourself, you change quickly so you can resume desk duty. Hopefully you can stay focused for the rest of the day despite Frankie’s words swimming around in your mind.
***
You and Benny see the guys pull into the parking lot in their respective cars 15 minutes after closing.
“Would you look at that? They actually got here on time to help.” Benny hums as he throws the last of the dirty towels into the basket.
“I’m gonna go say ‘hi’!” You shout over your shoulder, already darting towards the front.
You bust out the door right as the group of three are walking across the middle of the parking lot.
“Hey Will! Hey Pope!” You rush out as you make a beeline for the man in the center.
You leap into his arms and wrap your legs around him while snuggling your face into the crook of his neck. His exuberant laugh reverberates through your whole body as he clutches onto you. If it were anyone else, you would feel foolish for greeting them like this. But it just feels so right to be held in his arms. It doesn’t matter where you are. You feel him let out a heavy sigh into your hair as he cups the back of your head with his hand.
“What the fuck are we? Chopped liver?” Pope jokes.
“I totally greeted you, you whiny baby.” You laugh, face still hidden from the world.
“Who are you calling a ‘whiny baby’?”
You turn to face him, already knowing that he has his hands on his hips. “You!”
“You hearing this shit?” He turns to Will who has been silently snickering.
“Every word of it, Pope.” Will comes up and pats you on the back. “Good to see you, hon.”
“You’re going to let her talk to your best friend like that, Catfish?” Pope pouts.
Frankie carefully sets you down and readjusts his cap. “I couldn’t control her even if I tried.” He shrugs.
“Come on, Pope.” You lightly push him in the shoulder. “You know I love ya’.”
Before he gets a chance to respond, a car pulls into the lot extremely fast. Frankie quickly scoops you up and moves over to the side of the parking lot that is closest to Brass Knuckles. You didn’t even have time to process what had just happened, yet the rest of them reacted just as quickly as Frankie did.
“What kind of idiot drives like that?” You say, trying to get your bearings as you feel your feet touch asphalt again.
“The kind of idiot with a bone to pick.” Pope mutters.
When you look around, all three of them are watching the car park in a spot that's a few spaces down from theirs. Nervousness starts to rear its ugly head when you see them all exchange quick glances, followed by nods of their heads. Will is the first to break the silence.
“Why don’t we go inside?” His eyes look like they are pleading with you. “You can show me what still needs to be set up before people start arrivin’ tonight, huh?”
“Wait, what?”
“That sounds like a good idea.” Frankie confirms, his gaze still fixed on the now unmoving car. He doesn’t sound like himself. “Take her inside.”
“Frankie? What’s going on?”
He must have heard the quiver in your voice because he turns his attention to you. “I’ll be there in 5 minutes. I just need to take care of something first, okay? Everything is fine.”
“Let's go, hermosa.” You feel Pope's hand come to rest softly on your shoulder. “Please.” He whispers in your ear.
You have never seen any of them act like this. It’s causing your stomach to turn violently. Three of the toughest men you have ever met getting skittish doesn’t sit right with you.
“Al-alright.” Pope pushes your body towards the door, but your eyes stay on Frankie. “I’ll be right inside if you need me.”
“I know, estrella.” A car door slams hard somewhere in front of y’all and his face hardens. “Get her the fuck inside the gym.”
For the third time in a matter of a few minutes you’re being carried. This time it is compliments of Will. Before you know it, you’re being ushered inside and taken back into the gym. Neither Will nor Pope stop until they approach Benny who is in the middle of cleaning the heavy bags.
***
The only thing that matters to Frankie is that you’re away from the catastrophe that he knew was about to ensue. He steels his emotions as he watches her round her car from the driver's side. With how quickly she is marching there should have been flames kicking up behind her.
“Francisco fucking Morales!” She screeches. “We need to talk!”
He starts walking towards her. “Yes, Rochelle. We do.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
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#francisco morales#frankie morales#catfish#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader#triple frontier#triple frontier fic#benny miller#will miller#ironhead#santiago garcia#pope#through the scope#read on a03
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Pairings: Older Rockstar!Eddie munson x fem!reader
Summary: Based on this, imagine i posted a few months ago. I'm gonna make this an older rockstar!eddie x reader fic, where he still has no idea how phones work.
Warnings: suggestive language. Mention of past drug addiction. Both Eddie and reader are older in this if you don't like that then don't read it.
A/n: pretty short and not proofread
Eddie has had his fair share of scandals in his past. There was his 2 month marriage that he didn't even know about. Apparently, he got married in Vegas when he was too intoxicated and didn't remember it. He found out when he went to go Marry his second wife, and that was a sight to behold. Then it was his rehab stint when he was only 24, having done the whole 90-step program. After that, he vowed to stay clean and meet a nice girl, maybe even settle down.
That's when he saw you and immediately fell in love. He was flipping through his TV late one night and stumbled upon an episode of headbangers ball. Your band was being interviewed by the host about your new album being released soon. Eddie took notice of you when the camera kept panning over at you. He noticed your shy smile and soft voice, only speaking up when spoken to. He watched the entire thing, hoping to hear you laugh again.
You were a bass player in a riotgrrl group from Seattle. Your band emerged with other similar groups like Hole, Bikini Kill, and Babes in toyland. He fell in love instantly, having called his managers and demanding to know you. He even went as far as to have your band tour with Corroded Coffin so he could get to know you.
At first, you'll admit you weren't too thrilled to have Eddie Munson follow you around like a lost puppy. After parties, he'd follow you around and get you whatever you wanted. You knew about his reputation and all of the scandalous things he's done. You were hesitant to give him a shot worried he might hurt you. Eventually, you caved and went on that date he would ask you on every time he saw you.
The two of you became inseparable after that first date. Eddie was the type that told you he was in love with you after a few weeks of dating, and he meant it. He wore his heart out on his sleeve, always looking for love. A true hopeless romantic. Even with two failed marriages and a string of girlfriends, he finally found the one.
Being with Eddie wasn't easy he relapsed a few times and had a wandering eye for others when he was high. He tried to be a better man for you, but sometimes life got too hard. With both of you in popular bands, it was hard to really focus on the relationship. Some how though you both made it through it and are still together almost 30 years later. He still looks at you the same way he did when he first saw you in person. He was completely mesmerized like the whole world slowed down, and it was only the two of you left in it.
Which brings you to your situation now. Eddie always liked to express how much he loves you through different ways. He especially loves to spice up your sex life as well. Honestly, it even shocked you that the two of you still go at like horny teenagers. Eddie has always been attracted to you and needed to let you know at all times. He loved you and wanted to remind you of that with any chance he got. That's what got him into trouble this time.
He got a new phone recently and was still having trouble figuring it out. He was hellbent on keeping that old dinosaur he called a blackberry. Sure, they were popular at one time, but they are now obsolete. You told him to just play around with it until he gets the hang of it.
Teasing him, you sent a picture of yourself wearing new lingerie you bought for your anniversary coming up soon. Wanting to tease him and give a little sneak peek at what you had planned for the night. Eddie flips through his apps and tries to figure out what a cloud is and taps his messages to see you half naked. His eyes bug out, and he smiled, getting an idea to do the same. He figured if you were gonna tease him, he was gonna do the same.
Heading into your master bathroom he fists his already semi hard cock pumping it up and down until it was fully hard. Putting the hem of his muscle tank in his mouth, he takes a mirror selfie of himself holding his cock in his large hand. After taking a few pictures and seeing which one deserved to be the one. He decided on the third picture where you can see more details of the veins running along his shaft.
He hits "share now" and doesn't wait for your response. He tosses his phone on the bed after heading to go work out and eat some lunch, not thinking about what he had just done.
About 2 hours later, you were out having lunch with your old band mates discussing a reunion album. The vibration of your phone kept going off, and you tried to ignore it as best as you could. Picking it up, you noticed at least 50 text messages from friends and the rest of the guys from Corroded Coffin.
You saw one message from Jeff saying he needs you to call him it's urgent. Running to a secluded area, you ring him back worried something happened to Eddie.
"Hey, look, I don't know if you have seen what your husband has posted on his Instagram, but you need to look at it and head home fast." He stressed to you.
"Okay, I'll take a look and go check on Eddie. Don't worry. "
You click over to instagram and head to your husband's account, and there plain as day is your husband butt naked with his cock in his fist. He wrote the caption "Cum here often." Shocked at first but once you read the caption you couldn't help but laugh. He probably meant to send that to you and posted it by mistake.
You keep looking at the picture and notice he's also flexing his abs a little. You definitely know he did this in response to the picture you sent him earlier. The picture has now earned over 3 million likes and thousands of comments. Curiosity got the best of you, and you read some of them.
"Why is it looking at me" one comment said.
"Mom can you pick me up I'm scared."
"How does it feel to live my dream 😔" one person said and tagged you in the comment.
"Wow so when he wrote pussy destroyer he won't lying" someone else joked.
Putting your hand over your mouth, you tried to stifle a laugh. Calling Eddie, of course, he doesn't answer. You go to tell your band mates you need to head home and see Eddie. It's important. They give you a goodbye hug and send their love to him.
Walking into your shared home, you call out Eddie's name, no answer. Walking around peaking into every room, hunting him down. You eventually find him on his treadmill with headphones on blasting his music. He notices you in the doorway and smiles. Running over to you, he gives you a big bear hug.
"So did you like the picture I sent you earlier?" He wiggled his eyebrows at you.
"I sure did. As a matter of fact, me and the rest of the world did too." You joked with him.
Eddie looked totally confused until you pulled out your phone, showing what he had done. He looked horrified but then slowly became his cocky self again.
"Well, at least they know the rumors are, in fact, true."
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#joseph quinn#rockstar!eddiemunson#rockstar!eddie munson x reader#my writing
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🦋🍉🩶 for the writer asks 😘
(from the writer asks meme here!)
🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?
it’s actually pretty rare that I feel insecure about posting anymore! I used to feel pretty nervous when I was first posting kink and edgeplay fics (I can remember being absolutely terrified before I posted eight of swords (reversed) which was the first piss kink fic I ever wrote) but now I’ve realised people will generally just avoid the kinks they don’t want to read.
I do like the validation that comes from getting kudos and comments, so I do check my stats a lot after I post which is probably not very healthy. so I suppose the insecurity is that people just won’t engage with it, or won’t bother reading something that I’ve put a lot of work into. but as I’ve said, I’m aware that I write for small fandoms and rarepairs, and a lot of my fics deal with niche or ‘extreme’ (to the mainstream) kinks that I recognise aren’t going to be super popular. (apart from the Lando/Oscar fans who are apparently all freaks 💕)
🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?
I tend not to use fic to process traumatic events, although I have done in my original fiction and poetry. I do, however, use it a lot to navigate through life in general!
a very obvious example of this is you know how sticky it gets, which is the Dan/Max fic I wrote a few months ago. I’m pretty much bang on the same age as Dan and that fic was basically just 18,000 words of me processing being in my mid-30s and the sickening realisation that your life is never going to turn out the way you thought it would when you were a kid, that actually you do just have to settle for mediocrity sometimes and the challenge is finding the space within that realisation to still make your life feel meaningful. so yknow just light stuff.
on a less existential note, a fic like born and raised for the job was great for me because I got to write about a very dominant figure and — not to break the fourth wall too much — that’s a side of myself I don’t get to explore much in real life where I’m generally much more on the s side of the D/s divide. so it’s nice to be able to use fic as a way to explore that fantasy self in a safe container and one where my preconceptions of self don’t need to get in the way. it’s also a way for me to work through gender stuff without having to actively work through it in a way that might feel exhausting or stressful, and to explore more extreme or unsafe sexual practices (I’m gonna write that goddamn Pierre/Charles knifeplay fic eventually) or even just ones I don’t necessarily want to carry out in real life but find interesting to write about from a distance (like the in-progress Lando/Oscar foot kink fic).
🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?
hmm you know what, I don’t think I’ve ever really had feedback for a fic — at least not consistently — that made me think people didn’t ‘get’ it. I think the only one that might come close is the aforementioned Dan/Max fic, which people seemed to find a lot more romantic than I had necessarily intended it to be! but that’s no bad thing, and to be honest I do try to write a lot of my non-PWP fics to be relatively ambiguous in their interpretations. I don’t like it when stories try to bash you over the head with an intended outcome or try to impose a particular worldview on the reader, so it’s not really something I look out for in my reader feedback either. (unless it came from a particularly bad-faith interpretation like reading a consensual power dynamic as abusive, which thankfully I’ve never experienced!)
thanks for asking love! 🩷
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Love Is On Air
Genre: fluff & smut Words: 8.722 Prompt: radio host Johnny x secret admirer female reader Warnings: soft dom Johnny, oral (f receiving), safe sex, dirty talk
A/N: Finally: My entry for the February event of my lovely network @neosmutcollective. This is totally not the fic I planned on writing. In fact this was started way later after I realized I was never going to finish my original fic on time. Not that this one is on time... Special thanks to everyone who sent our lovely DJs some music recommendations @sly-merlin, @moonctzeny, @lenaluvs, @lucas-wongs, @burtonized and to @ncteaxhoe who helped me figure out this idea. I hope you enjoy this even though it’s wayyy too late.
You hurried home to your apartment after your last class of the day that was horrifically late because of whoever had fucked up your schedule this semester. Panting heavily, you busted into your room and threw your jacket and backpack somewhere onto your couch, diving straight for your laptop that was perched on your desk. Cursing the old thing, you waited for agonizing minutes until it had booted up and your browser was open. You quickly opened the familiar page of your university’s campus radio just in time to hear the familiar voice saying: “Hi I’m John-D, welcome to NCT Night Night.” After that both hosts chuckled lowly before Jaehyun spoke: “Tonight we’ll read some of the letters you wrote us over the week again and we will try our best to help you out with whatever problems you throw our way.” “Exactly. Right after we play this song that was suggested by evangelie_99 over on our Twitter, it’s Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County and she said that she loves our show. We’re glad you like it so much, darling. This one is for you,” Johnny softly said before the soft tunes of the song filled your little one-room apartment.
Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, carelessly toeing your shoes off. Listening to NCT Night Night was your escape at night from the stress that classes brought you. The two DJs that were on air every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday were your favorites though. Not only did they have great chemistry but they both could be incredibly funny as well as soothe all your nerves with their calming voices – especially Johnny or John-D as he was called on their show. You might have developed a slightly embarrassing crush on the fratboy with a heart as sweet as his voice from what you knew about him from his radio shows and your shared classes. Since they had started their weekly segment where they would read out letters that students could send them, you had gathered the courage to send Johnny little messages about how you were crushing on him and it had quickly become a running gag on the show. Jaehyun would tease Johnny about it every week while Johnny kept insisting that his secret admirer should just talk to him. But how could you do that? Johnny was everything one could want in a boyfriend. Not only was he ridiculously tall and devastatingly handsome but he was also smart, always seemingly staying on top of his classes and he also went to the gym regularly if his thirst traps on his Instagram stories were anything to go by. When he wasn’t giving out advice in a gentle voice on their radio program, he was out partying with his frat brothers on the weekends more often than not complaining about headaches on their Sunday show. How could you just walk up to him and talk to him? Right. You couldn’t. So you had to resign to sending him anonymous love letters through his radio show.
“Welcome back, hi,” Johnny chuckled once the song had gently faded out and you couldn’t help but giggle along. “That was Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County,” Jaehyun tried to stay on script but you could almost hear the grin on his face because of Johnny’s antics, “If you want your song to play on today’s show, please suggest something over on our Twitter with the hashtag,” Jaehyun paused momentarily and let out a dramatic sigh before continuing, “hashtag JohnDplaymelikeaviolin.” Jaehyun hadn’t even read the whole hashtag out loud when Johnny was already bursting out in laughter and how could you not laugh along with his melodic laughter. “I swear to god I am never letting you choose hashtags for our show ever again,” Jaehyun groaned while Johnny sounded like he was still dying in the background. “Don’t be mean to me Jaehyunie,” he whined and even though today’s episode was not viewable, you could vividly imagine how he was pouting. While the two friends were busy bickering and talking about what they had done since their last show, you pulled up your own Twitter to send a recommendation in.
“Aaaah, I see we’re already getting plenty of suggestions. Sly-merlin suggested us Sexy Dirty Love by Demi Lovato – a great song – and added ‘I wish John-D would actually play me like a violin.” After a potent silence, Johnny broke out in laughter again. “And this is why you won’t choose any more hashtags,” Jaehyun groaned again. “Baby,” Johnny rasped into his mic and even though you weren’t wearing headphones, it sent tingles down your spine, “Just come to our frat party on Friday and I’ll see what I can do.” “Stop plugging our parties on the radio,” Jaehyun scolded the elder, the slap audible over the radio, “Also sly-merlin has to stand in line. You still have your number one admirer who has sent in a letter yet again.” “She still hasn’t come up to me,” Johnny shared, “I can only keep up my chastity for so long. I am saving myself for this girl.” You know he was joking but you were just a simple woman and even in your secluded home, you felt heat rising to your cheeks, your thumbs stopping on your keyboard where you had typed out your song recommendation. Both DJs shared a quiet laugh before Jaehyun asked: “And you really don’t know who she is?” “I really don’t man,” his friend sighed, “Like I have my suspicions because she has to be in my major if she sees me in class that often. That or she’s a stalker which I do not want to think about. But for real, hit me up. I’ll take you out for a coffee.” “Now everyone is going to come up to you and claim that they’re her.” “I’ll take that risk,” Johnny laughed, “Maybe I’ll finally meet the love of my life and settle down.” At that Jaehyun snorted loudly. “The woman that can make you settle down gets free coffee for like a month from me.” “Watch me have a wife and kids at 25 Jae, just to spite you,” his friend snorted, “But up until then, let’s play sly-merlin’s song recommendation: Sexy Dirty Love by Demi Lovato.”
While the song was playing, you finished up your own tweet and hit post before you grabbed your bag that you had carelessly thrown away before to get out your notes. You actually had to start a project for one of the classes you and Johnny actually did share. The professor had announced that he would announce the pairings for a group project tomorrow and you didn’t want to seem like an actual idiot if your group would decide to already meet up and discuss after class. So while you listened to your favorite DJs discuss the questions and worries of whoever had sent them to their email address, you worked through the notes you had taken over the last couple of weeks, trying your best to organize them to remember the key points.
“Oh John-D, I have a very special letter here,” Jaehyun said, waving the paper in front of the microphone so it would pick up the wiggling noises. “What could that be?” Johnny asked with over-exaggerated interest. “It’s from your secret admirer, John-D. So I think you should read it out.” Just like every time, they read your letter, your heart began beating faster and faster in your chest until you were sure, it would break free from your ribcage. “Okay, here I go,” Johnny announced while Jaehyun was playing the same cheesy music he always played when they were reading your letters, “Happy Thursday, John-D. The weekend is almost in reach, keep up the energy for the last day of classes! – she’s so sweet, I’m holding up alright – One of my professors will announce the pairings he made for a group project soon and I am nervous. I don’t have many friends in the course and I’m praying that I will get good group mates I can work well with.” “Oooh, I get that struggle,” Jaehyun interrupted, “I once had to work with a bunch of stoners and ended up doing all the work for a presentation that made up 30 percent of my grade. Worst experience of my life, would not recommend. But we’re wishing you all the luck.” “But you know what’s more interesting about this story?” Johnny tuned in, “Coincidentally my professor for my literature class is assigning our group projects tomorrow as well. Say, my sweet admirer, are you perhaps in the same literature class as me?” In your otherwise silent room, the panicked squeak you let out was loud even to your ears. There was no way Johnny could figure out who you were, there were probably at least 20 more girls with a crush on him in that class alone, so you were safe. “Oooh, so maybe she’s a lit major so that’s why she’s writing love letters.” “Could be but lots of people from different majors are taking that class,” Johnny argued, “Anyways, back to her letter. But I won’t let that disturb me! I will be doing my best regardless! – That’s the spirit – I’ll work through my notes as I listen to your honey voice so I can be prepared. I’m glad you don’t do viewable radios on Thursday’s or else I wouldn’t be able to get anything done, you’re just too distracting John-D,” at that Jaehyun let out a fake gag while Johnny just giggled softly, “Thank you secret admirer, I do clean up quite nicely if I do say so myself. – On last Sunday’s episode you melted my heart when you hid in your hoodie for half the show. – God that was the worst hangover I had in a looong while, I was so miserable.”
“You should have seen him at home,” Jaehyun laughed, “I had to physically drag his whole 180-something-centimeters body first into the shower, then into the car and into the station. He is the biggest crybaby when he’s hungover.” “Don’t expose me like that, Jaehyunie,” Johnny whined loudly, “I was dared to drink a bunch of tequila and my mother didn’t raise neither a quitter nor a coward.” “No, but clearly an idiot,” the younger DJ laughed his deep laugh. “Let me read my love letter in peace,” the other grumbled, “I couldn’t follow for half the show because I was so focused on watching you. Not in a creepy way of course! – Of course not,” Johnny chuckled, “I hope you finished that essay you had to work on after the show in time and still had some time to relax. – I did, don’t worry.” That you already knew when Johnny had handed in his essay in another class you two shared just before you had handed in yours and he had thrown you a little smile that had kept you going through the whole day. “Take care of yourself and keep smiling your beautiful smile, I look forward to seeing you again on Sunday or in classes. And fighting to Jae-D as well of course! – I look forward to hearing from you again, secret admirer. I bet your group project will go just fine, don’t worry too much. If anyone is mean to you, just expose them here and we’ll fight them for you.” “Love that she acknowledged me in one sentence as well,” Jaehyun grumbled, cutting off the cheesy music abruptly. “You’re just jealous you don’t have a sweet admirer who sends you cute messages,” the other teased his friend. “Yeah, yeah, shut up and put that letter in the box under your bed.” “It’s in my sock drawer, thank you very much.”
Giggling, you listened to the two friends bicker, your chest warm with a feeling you were scared to put a name on. “Anyways, I think it’s time for another music recommendation you can still send in via our lovely hashtag JohnDplaymelikeaviolin. This one is from lenaluvies and she says: Please play Hurts So Good by Astrid S thank you. No, thank you for sending something in darling. This one’s for you,” Johnny announced and you couldn’t help but laugh a little pained laugh. That song title hit a little too close to home for your liking. The rest of the radio show went by smoothly and Johnny and Jaehyun tried to help a handful of more students with their problems that couldn’t be more diverse. From a boy who had fallen in love with his best friend which had send him into an identity crisis over to a girl who was failing her classes because she claimed the professor hated her to a freshman who wanted to apply for a fraternity but was scared because of the rumors surrounding them which the DJs quickly debunked since they both were in the same fraternity. In the end they had to cut themselves short, asking their viewers to vote on a poll they would make if people wanted a whole Tuesday episode surrounding fraternities.
“So.” “So,” Johnny copied his friend. “We’re almost at the end of our time with you guys. We couldn’t get through all of your submissions but we hope our team picked a few good ones and at least some of you could get some advice.” “As always you’re free to send us your own stories to our e-mail [email protected] to get some advice next Thursday from your favorite DJs: John-D.” “And Jae-D. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday on your campus radio on 127mHz. On NCT-“ “Night Night,” they said their ending together and just like every night with them, you said goodnight to your computer screen, closing the tab which draped your little apartment in silence. Sighing loudly, you looked over your notes that needed a little more work if you wanted to make a good first impression on your fellow students tomorrow. Because you couldn’t stand the silence, you opened your Spotify to play the NCT Night Night playlist Johnny and Jaehyun had made with the songs that had been recommended to them, still missing the new additions from tonight.
The next morning found you in your literature class, sitting two rows behind Johnny, staring at the back of his head while doodling on your paper rather than taking notes on whatever the professor was saying. If you were to let your eyes wander, you’d see that almost everyone in the big room was paying as much or even less attention as you were; the students in different states of excitement and anxiety over the group projects he had yet to announce. “I’m sorry professor,” Johnny’s voice suddenly cut through the room, “I’m sure you have already noticed that no one is paying attention to whatever you’re trying to teach us right now. Could you please just announce the groups for the project?” That moment you swore you would be able to hear a pin drop until your eccentric professor chuckled lowly. “I like you, Suh. I was waiting for someone to mention it,” he spoke, getting the dreaded list out of his bag, “Listen closely now, you’ll be assigned in groups of four and each group will get a specific novel to work on. Deadline will be by the end of the semester and your individual paper combined with the group presentation will make up 40% of your final grade.” That made a bunch of people, including you, gasp out loudly. A group project with this much credit to your final grade was always dreaded. “I don’t want to hear any complaints, that’s how it’s always been. Now listen carefully, I won’t repeat myself but the list will be hung on our blackboard as well.” With that being said, the professor began listing names and novels in the most monotone voice he could muster. To say you were basically vibrating off of your seat was an understatement when he got further and further down the list and neither yours nor Johnny’s name had been called yet. “And lastly, an all-time favorite: Romeo and Juliet.” You didn’t even register anything else after the professor had announced that the group featured both Johnny and you along with two other students you didn’t know. Your brain was reduced to static noise while everyone else was getting up around you to pick up the books that had already been stacked in a corner, probably by a poor TA. Only when a person bumped into you, you broke from your stupor to quickly pick up your stuff as well to hurry down to steps to where a crowd of students had already gathered.
Luckily Johnny towered over most of the other students and you could easily spot him and the rest of your group that were two other boys you didn’t recognize. “Hey, you’re the last one we were missing,” Johnny smiled and handed you over your copy of the book. “Y... Yeah, sorry for making you wait,” you stuttered, clutching the small book tightly in your hands. “No big deal,” Johnny played it off, “Do any of you have any more classes today?” When everyone declined, you all agreed that you should get a head start on your project as it would be hard to make a good project out of such an overused love story. While walking over to the student center to decide on a concept, conversation flowed easily between the four of you even though you were still really nervous to be around Johnny. God, you really hoped he didn’t think you were stupid or something just because you were nervous.
The little study session went by in a blur and only further confirmed that you were so whipped for Johnny it wasn’t even funny anymore. You found yourself attentively listening to all of his ideas and laughing at every of his stupid little jokes and only mildly spacing out while looking at Johnny when the others were discussing ideas which had led to one or two mildly embarrassing situations where you would lose track of what you were actually discussing, your mind blank of any input when they asked for your opinion.
Soon you found yourself parting ways with your groupmates, leaving you and Johnny alone because his frat house and your little apartment were located in the same general direction. “Anything fun you’re doing this evening?” Johnny asked, trying to make some light conversation to fill the silence. “No, I’ll just binge watch some shows maybe or listen to the campus radio,” you shrugged it off. While today’s show wasn’t your favorite, you quite liked the DJs soft and gentle voice. “You listen to the campus radio? I have a show on there,” Johnny smiled. “I like listening to you and Jaehyun,” you confessed, trying to fight the heat that was licking at your cheeks. “Oh.” “You seem surprised.” “Yeah, it kind of still seems weird that people enjoy listening to Jae and me rambling for hours on end. You know with him it just feels like I’m hanging out with my brother rather than work.” “Your voices are really soothing, you know,” you tried to explain what you were feeling when listing to them, “And your friendship is kind of adorable. Like we can feel how much you care about each other and you always genuinely try to help your listeners without making fun of them.” For a while Johnny didn’t say anything and you thought you had fucked it up, that he thought you were weird now. “Thank you,” he suddenly said. “Huh?” “It means a lot hearing that. We do lurk on Twitter to see what people think of our show but hearing it like this is something else entirely.” “It’s nothing,” you mused, playfully hitting his arm, “No need to get this soft.” “Hey,” he laughed, “I’ll have you know that I am 180 centimeters of walking softness despite what people might say about me.” Smiling softly you caught his eyes for the first time since you two had started walking and the way his honey eyes were smiling back at you momentarily took your breath away.
“I- My room is right around here, sooooo,” you stuttered. “It was nice working with you. Even though you were spacing out half the time,” Johnny teased, “Thinking about a special someone?” You. The word sat on the tip of your tongue, the low light of the afternoon sun making you bolder than you actually were and Johnny just made you feel incredibly comfortable. “No... No- I- I’m single.” “A crush then?” “Something like that,” you mumbled, your fingers nervously playing with the hem of your jacket. “Talk to him. Or her. Or them,” Johnny advised. “I really can’t,” you sighed, “He doesn’t even know I exist.” “Well you don’t need to confess your undying love for him,” he laughed, not knowing he was the boy in question, “Just you know. Casually talk to him. Get to know him.” “I’ll try?” “Is that a question?” “Yeah?” “Have more confidence in yourself,” he gently nudged you, “You’re nice and very easy to talk to.” “Nice... Wow.” “Shut up,” he laughed, “I usually give better compliments but I have yet to get to know you better.” “Would you... Would you even want that?” “Sure,” Johnny shrugged and your heart skipped a couple of beats, “I have to get going or everybody will already be drunk when I arrive. So... I’ll see you in class? And you’ll hear me on Sunday?” “Yeah sure. Don’t drink too much or you will be miserable all show like last week,” you giggled. “Don’t remind me,” he groaned, “I’m never going to drink tequila on a Saturday ever again.” “Goodbye Johnny,” you smiled, really liking how his name sounded when you said it out loud. “Bye,” he waved before going his way.
Once you were sure he was out of hearing distance, you let out a little happy squeak and jumped up and down excitedly. You did it. You had actually done it. You had talked to your crush. And managed to not make a complete fool out of yourself in front of him. Which was a win in your books. A huge win. With a little spring in your steps, you stepped by one of your favorite pizza places to treat yourself before heading home where you spend your evening daydreaming about none other than Johnny while watching reruns of old dramas.
“Hi, I’m Jae-D.” “And I am John-D. Welcome to NCT-“ “Night Night.” “John-D.” “Yes, Jae-D,” Johnny chuckled. “It’s Thursday again which means it’s time to tend to our listener’s worries,” Jaehyun read off of the script, not getting distracted by his friend’s antics, “And today is a very special episode.” “Special?” Jaehyun barely repressed to roll his eyes at his friend’s over-exaggerated acting before continuing: “Yes, since tomorrow is a day off for all students, we have decided to make this episode extra lengthy and-“ he shortly stopped to flash the camera a peace sign, “Viewable despite it being Thursday.” “Do we look okay?” Johnny laughed, checking himself out in the video that was playing on one of their monitors. “Aaaaah, the comments say we look good tonight, thank you,” Jaehyun mused.
And they really did. Not that either of them had to do a whole lot to look good but today they were both wearing white button-downs with their sleeves rolled up to expose their forearms. Jaehyun had even gone so far as to put on some fake glasses. “And if you’re following us on our Twitter you also already know that this week it’s all about love on our campus radio and our show today is no exception,” Johnny read his part of the script. “Today John-D and Jae-D are Loveholics, trying our very best to help you with your problems surrounding love,” Jaehyun completed, “You can send in song recommendations through the hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic just like taryn1026 did – I hope I said that right – but they recommended Paris in the Rain by Lauv to set the mood for today.”
The soft tunes of the song made you relax a little into your sofa where you had chosen to watch today’s episode of NCT Night Night. You had to say that you were kind of nervous for today’s episode. Just like every week you had written your letter to Johnny, telling him about your week and cheering him on for your group project. At this point it should have been pretty obvious just who exactly you were and judging by how Johnny was acting towards you, his flirting leaving you flustered after your study sessions and your group mates mildly annoyed, he seemed to already have put together the pieces. But yesterday while writing your letter you had felt extra bold (and maybe also extra riled up and horny from Johnny’s shameless flirting) and had written him a message that should confirm all his suspicions and would hopefully lead him straight to you and into your bed. But until the end of the show or at least until they read your letter, which you really hoped they did today as well, you had to wait sitting in your apartment, for once not in comfortable clothes but in a nice shirt and pants.
“That was Paris in the Rain by Lauv, recommended to us by taryn1026 through our Twitter with the hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic,” Johnny’s raspy voice filled your apartment when he leaned close to the mic, “Jae-D are you ready to make some love happen?” “I already had my love juice,” Jaehyun answered, showing his pink Starbucks drink to the camera, “And my reading glasses are on.” As to prove his point, he hiked his glasses up his nose before scratching his eye through the holes in the frame, making both DJs chuckle. For the next hour Johnny and Jaehyun tried to solve several relationship dramas as well as a very tricky friends-with-benefits situation and telling a boy to break up with his cheating girlfriend which had been a rather heartbreaking discussion. “So after this,” Jaehyun sighed, “Let’s play another song recommendation. Burtonized has sent in a very fitting song, I hope you all don’t mind a little Korean: It’s God Damn by I.M – a song about heartbreak.”
While the foreign song was playing, the two DJs stretched their backs and sipped on their respective drinks: Jaehyun still on his pink sugar concoction and Johnny already on his second iced Americano. Jaehyun must have found something funny on his phone, nudging his friend to look at him but Johnny was busy typing away on his own, only acknowledging his friend after he had typed his message. Just after that, your own phone buzzed with a message, showing Johnny’s name on the screen.
From: Johnny Are you watching our show?
To: Johnny Sure, you look good today
From: Johnny Make sure to listen closely ;)
“That was God Damn by I.M suggested by burtonized over our Twitter hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic,” Jaehyun’s smooth voice tore you from your spiraling thoughts about the winking face Johnny had sent. “Sadly our show is coming to an end even with our extended airtime.” “But John-D a very important letter is still missing before we close our show. Dare I say it could be the highlight of our show,” Jaehyun joked, already playing the cheesy music he was always playing when Johnny would read your letters. “You’re right Jae-D my lovely secret admirer has sent in another letter,” Johnny mused, arranging himself so he could read the printed out letter while being as close as possible to the mic for it to pick up the rasp in his voice, “Happy Thursday John-D, I hope your week has been more exciting than mine. I have just been going from class to class without much thought, the only high points are my group meetings for the group project we have to hand in soon – That seems very familiar, baby – But since today is all about love, I’ll tell you about a little problem I have: – get your love juice ready, Jae – There is this boy in my group. And boy isn’t really the right word to describe him, he’s a man really,” at that Johnny couldn’t hold back a low chuckle, “I’m sorry, I’ll be serious – And he is flirting with me. Has been for a couple of weeks now. And it has gotten to the point where our groupmates are kind of annoyed at us. He has also walked me home a couple of times but he never so much as touched me. At this point I am so frustrated with him. Is he just playing with me? Or is his mouth bigger than his actions actually are? He has been riling me up all day today and I was ready to let him have his way with me but he only wished me goodnight and left again, leaving me to deal with what he had done all by myself – oh wow, I,” Johnny stuttered, sharing a gaze with his friend who was only barely repressing his laughter, “Wow, okay, I hope we’re in the good for reading this out and it’s late enough,” clearing his voice and raking a hand through his hair, Johnny continued, “John-D I hope this man hears what he has done to me and will deal with the consequences of his actions. Would you play Animal by Jin Yosef and RIELL for me? Just in case this letter hasn’t gotten my point across? – Y... Yeah sure, darling. We’ll play that once our show is over.”
“So John-D,” Jaehyun grinned while loudly slurping on his ‘love juice’, “What would you advice your secret admirer to do about this problem?” “Well if I were her,” Johnny started, his gaze going straight to the camera where he knew you were watching and it felt like he was looking straight into your soul, “I’d wait for him. I’m pretty sure he can prove that his actions speak even louder than his words.” For a while it was quiet between the two DJs, safe for Jaehyun’s obnoxiously loud slurping noises but even if they would have been saying anything, you weren’t sure if you could have comprehended any words with how furiously your heart was beating. “Anyways,” Jaehyun eventually broke the silence once he was sure there was nothing left in his ‘love juice’, “I’m afraid that was it for tonight. This has been your extra lengthy episode of Jae-D and John-D and we will leave you with this wonderful song recommendation: Animal by Jin Yosef and RIELL. If you’ve liked today’s show, we’re here every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday night on your campus radio on 127mHz to listen to all of your worries on NCT-“ “Night Night,” Johnny joined in and they both waved into the camera as your song of choice started playing. The video stream didn’t cut off immediately, showing the boys gathering their things and if your eyes weren’t betraying you, you swore you saw Johnny tense up when the song turned a little more explicit. The two DJs waved to the camera one last time before the stream cut off, leaving the screen of your laptop dark.
That was when it dawned on you what you had done. Shit. With how Johnny had sounded, you probably had about fifteen to twenty minutes until he would be at your doorstep. Oh god. Shit. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you tried to ground yourself before hurriedly closing your laptop and cleaning everything that seemed messy in your little one-room apartment. That was until you heard a knock on your door.
With shaky hands, you slowly opened the door and while you knew who would be standing on the other side, you weren’t ready for how he was going to look like: Johnny was leaning against the doorway casually with his arms crossed over his chest so the tight button-down he was wearing would strain over the planes of his chest muscles but what really reeled you in was how dark his eyes looked when he raked them over your body. “Good evening miss,” he drawled. “Hi,” you breathed. “Tell me what you want so I’m not misinterpreting any of this,” Johnny all but growled, one of his hands coming up to cup your face. “I want you to have me.” If you thought his eyes were dark before, they turned into bottomless black orbs once the words had left your lips. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, baby.” “Please,” you whimpered and that seemed to break Johnny’s resolve as he pulled you close to him and all but crashed his lips into yours. The kiss wasn’t delicate in any way, shape or form with how Johnny was licking into your mouth the second a moan left your lips. His tongue was intertwining with yours messily and in no time both of you were panting into each other’s mouths. “Inside. Now,” you rasped. “All with due time,” Johnny chuckled but let you pull him into your apartment, slamming the door shut to crowd you against it, one of his strong thighs slipping between your legs like it belonged there, “If you’re a good girl and listen well, I’ll give you anything you want.” “Fuck,” you cursed before slamming your lips together again, a new neediness bleeding into the kiss as you tugged on the longer strands of hair at the back of Johnny’s neck which made him growl lowly. “Anything off-limits?” Johnny breathed into your skin as he kissed down your neck to suck a mark there while his hands were busy pulling your shirt from your pants so he could rake them over your naked skin. “Just,” you had to cut yourself off with a moan, “Don’t be mean to me.” “Never,” he promised, “You’ll be my pillow princess.” His sweet words were in stark contrast to how hard his hands were gripping your hips and how his teeth were grazing over your neck that must be littered with marks already. “Take me to bed,” you heaved breathlessly, positive your legs would give out if it wasn’t for Johnny holding you up.
Listening to your demand, he slowly started walking you backwards towards your bed until the two of you were toppling down on top of the covers, his lips never leaving your skin. Whoever had spread the rumors about Johnny being a great lover had been absolutely right, he knew just how to touch you to have you gasping for air and judging by the grin on his lips he hadn’t even started yet. “Please,” you whimpered, arching into his touch, not exactly sure what exactly you were asking for but Johnny seemed to know all the better when he freed you from your top and pants to leave you in your matching lace set while he was still fully clothed in his by now wrinkled button-up and pants. “All for me?” He chuckled and pressed a kiss right between the valley of your breasts, his big hands cupping the soft flesh to squeeze it gently. “Have me,” you gasped out and you could feel the growl he let out vibrating where you were pressed together. “I’m going to ruin you,” Johnny promised, pulling down the cups of your bra to wrap his plush lips around one of your nipples to tease the soft nub until it hardened under his ministrations, sending waves of pleasure down your spine and straight to your core where you could feel your wetness starting to seep into the fabric of your panties. “Johnny,” you mewled and arched into his every touch, his calloused fingertips setting your skin alight when he let them travel down your body to tease over your lower stomach. As if by reflex, you let your thighs fall open for him to finally touch you where you needed him the most. “Such a good girl,” he smiled, blowing cold air over your spit-slicked nipple to watch you squirm beneath him. Your remark got stuck in your throat when he finally cupped you through your panties, feeling how damp the fabric had already become. “Naughty,” he chuckled, his eyes never leaving your face as he circled your clit through the fabric, watching your eyes fluttering shut when his gaze became too intense.
“Johnny,” you sighed, forgetting all other words except for his name. “Relax, princess,” he rasped and kissed his way down your body, leaving love bites on the sensitive skin of your stomach and thighs that shook with anticipation. If you’d say you hadn’t dreamed about his lips on you like this, you would lie and you weren’t going to miss the sight of this for nothing. Fighting back the fog that had started to cloud your mind, you forced your eyes open to look down to where he had settled between your open thighs to find him staring right back at you. “Good girl,” he praised you again before pressing a kiss over your clothed sex that made your head fall back already, the anticipation of what was to come making you push up your hips which made Johnny chuckle lowly. He didn’t leave you any time to feel embarrassed by how needy you were when he hooked your panties to the side unceremoniously and licked a broad stripe up your center, tasting your arousal. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out, your hands flying down to tangle them in the long strands of his hair. Johnny worked his tongue in slow and clever strokes, leaving your mind reeling with pleasure and taking his time to take you apart piece by piece, not even paying attention to your leaking center or your aching clit. But when he did wrap his lips around your clit to gently suck on the nub, your mind almost went numb with how intense his touch was, your thighs clamping shut around him. To make it even worse, he started humming around you while prying your thighs back open, holding you down with his large hands. You felt your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast now that he was altering between teasing your clit with his tongue, lips and even his teeth and fucking your velvety walls with his tongue, setting your nerve endings on fire. “Johnny I’m close,” you warned him but instead of slowing down, he stretched his jaw wide to press his tongue further into you, his nose bumping into your clit in the process and with the combined sensation and his doubled effort, it took no time for your first orgasm of the night to wash over you, a scream of his name leaving your lips as you shook through it, your mind going equally as numb as your legs.
When you came back to it, Johnny had straightened up between your legs and he was grinning down at you while he was unbuttoning his shirt, his face still shiny with your arousal. “That was the first one,” he spoke darkly. “Come here,” you whined, making grabby hands for him until he took pity on you and covered your body with his before connecting your lips in a bruising kiss. You could still taste yourself on his lips but that somehow just made it even hotter.
“Want you inside me,” you panted against his lips when Johnny broke the kiss in favor of raking his teeth over your racing pulse. “Yeah?” He rasped and ground his hips down into yours, making you feel him strain against the fabric of his pants. “Need it,” you moaned at the sweet friction. “Think you can take me?” He laughed as he leaned back on his hunches to pop open the button of his pants, pulling down the zipper agonizingly slow. With wide eyes you watched him push his pants down his narrow hips, leaving him in just his navy boxers that showed the sizable imprint of his hard cock, the fabric against the head dark from where he had leaked precum. Chuckling, he stroked over the outline and just the sight alone made your mouth water. “Show me,” you breathed, spreading your thighs so he could see your needy core, clenching around nothing. “Hmm,” he hummed, dragging one of his fingers that wasn’t preoccupied with teasing himself through the mess of arousal and his saliva between your legs, only barely dipping it into you to feel the muscles trying to suck him inside. “Don’t tease me,” you whined high in your throat. “But I like seeing you squirm,” Johnny grinned but took mercy on you and sunk his finger into you up to the knuckle, gently pumping it inside you. Still sensitive from how intense your last orgasm had been, you were torn between pulling away and wanting more but Johnny made the decision for you when he pulled his finger out, wiping your arousal onto your thigh.
“Eyes on me,” he commanded and finally freed his cock from his briefs. “Fuck.” The curse left your lips without even noticing at the sight of his flushed cock, too heavy to properly stand up against his toned abs. The tip was tinted red and shiny with precum that Johnny generously spread down that whole length, his eyes not leaving yours as you watched him lazily jerk himself. “Like what you see?” You eagerly nodded your head. “Want it inside me.” “Yeah? Show me.”
Throwing all caution out of the window, you quickly sucked two of your fingers between your lips before guiding them to your weeping core to slip them inside you, letting out an over-exaggerated moan as you crooked them. “Oh you’re so naughty, baby,” Johnny groaned, squeezing the base of his cock tightly as he watched you fingering yourself and if you had even one coherent thought left in your head, you’d have the decency to be embarrassed because of how intensely he was staring. “It’s not enough,” you pouted, pulling your fingers free and spreading them to look at the slick covering them, “I’m so wet for you.” “Such a dirty mouth,” he groaned, quickly grabbing his pants to fish a condom from his wallet to roll over his hard length. “Please, Johnny,” you hiccupped, winding your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you. “Sssh, princess,” he soothed you, running his hands over your torso before bending down to press tender kisses to your stomach, “I’ll take care of you.” “Please kiss me.”
Dropping his elbows next to your head to support his weight, he covered your body with his and caught your lips in a kiss much too tender for your current situation, taking his time to explore your mouth until you were perfectly pliant beneath him. “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered into the small space between you while he snaked a hand between your bodies to guide his cock to your core. When the head slipped in without much resistance, both of you let out twin moans of pleasure. Painstakingly slowly Johnny pushed inside you, centimeter by centimeter until his hips were flush to yours. “Breathe, princess,” he reminded you because you indeed had held your breath and had buried your nails in his biceps. “Shit, you’re big,” you cursed. “So I’ve been told,” Johnny chuckled and peppered your face and neck with little kisses while he slowly ground his hips so you could get used to him inside you.
“Move,” you demanded after a while. “What’s the magic word baby?” He grinned. “Please, Johnny,” you whimpered, clenching down on him. “Once more.” “Don’t make me beg.” “But you sound so pretty when you do,” he chuckled, only barely moving his hips. “Johnny please,” you whined, trying your best to move on his cock on your own but the angle was just not working out. “Oh, you want to do the work?” “I want you to move,” you groaned, pawing at his chest.
“But I think you’d look so pretty riding my cock,” Johnny rasped and in one fluid movement, he had sat up and pulled you onto his lap. Shit, it felt like he was even deeper now. “Come on, princess.” Whining, you wound your arms around his shoulders and pulled your legs beneath you so you could lift your hips up to make his cock smoothly slide out, the friction just right before you slowly dropped back down again, earning you an appreciative groan from Johnny. “That’s right, baby,” he praised you as you slowly found a comfortable pace, swiveling your hips until the angle was just right. Tightening the grip you had on his shoulders to use it as leverage, you began riding him in earnest, impaling yourself on his cock over and over again until your head was spinning and your thighs started to burn. “Come on, doll,” Johnny grinned, catching one of your nipples between his lips. Whining, you rolled your hips faster until your thighs began shaking. “Need help?” He just grinned, his big hands holding onto your hips to help you move up and down his cock at a steadier pace. “Please Johnny,” you hiccupped, hiding your face in his neck to ground yourself, “Please fuck me.” “Am I not doing just that?” He chuckled, filthily grinding his cock inside you. “Do it right,” you panted into his skin, “Fuck me like you mean it.”
“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby.” He didn’t have to tell you twice, it was almost comical how quickly you obeyed his command and arched your back for him. “Hmm, that’s it,” he praised you, tracing the curve of your spine with his hands until he reached the space between your shoulder blades where he gently pushed down to make you arch even further. “So good and pliant for me, just waiting to be filled.” “Please,” you just whined again, past the point of caring about how pathetic you sounded, begging for his cock. “Say it baby,” he demanded, slapping his cock against your wet folds. “Please fuck me Johnny. Please. I want your cock inside me so badly. Want you to fuck me until I can’t even remember my own name anymore. Please I need it. I-“ your frantic rambling got cut off by the surprised moan leaving your lips as he thrust into you without any warning. “Don’t hold back baby,” Johnny rasped before gripping your hips tightly to finally fuck you in earnest, the sound of skin slapping together loud in the otherwise silent room. “God, your ass looks amazing,” he moaned, burying himself in your tight heat over and over again, mesmerized by how his cock was glistening in the low light and how easily your body opened up for him, “You’re basically made to take my cock.” You could only mewl at his dirty words and fist the sheets tightly in your hands as you tried to meet his thrusts as best as you could while you felt like you got your soul fucked right out of you.
“Feels so good,” you slurred when you felt the familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap, clenching around Johnny’s cock. “God baby, if you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum,” Johnny cursed, grabbing you by the neck to pull you up against his chest, the pace of his hips only getting faster. “Please Johnny. Want it inside,” you whined, letting him use your body how he wanted to relish in the low moans he let out. “You want me to fill you up baby?” “Want it so bad, Johnny,” you mewled. “Then cum for me. Cum on my cock and I’ll give you anything you want.” And oh god. You had never thought that the strained sound of a couple of words could be enough to actually trip you over the edge but the rasp in Johnny’s voice had you falling apart in his arms, your orgasm ripping through you so hard it had your thighs shaking. “Such a good girl,” Johnny praised you before he let out a low guttural moan and fucked into you once – then twice – before his hips came to a halt, emptying his cum inside the condom.
For a while you two just panted loudly before Johnny gently laid you back down onto the mattress, chuckling lowly when you whined at the loss of his cock. “Shit,” you giggled while he quickly got rid of the condom, throwing it in the general direction of your trashcan. So tender you could have missed it, Johnny pressed a row of kisses down your spine until he reached the swell of your ass. “Cuddle me,” you pouted, making grabby hands at him. “We’re sweaty, princess,” he laughed but gave in when you kept pouting. “I don’t care,” you whined, fitting your head beneath his, wrapping your arms and legs around his body to cling to him like a koala. “You’re cute,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead.
“For how long did you know?” “Know what?” Johnny asked, clearly confused. “That I was your secret admirer.” “I didn’t.” “It was so obvious,” you groaned. “Okay maybe I got a hunch after we started that group project. But you never said anything.” “What was I supposed to say? Oh Johnny, by the way, I’m the one who has been writing you cringey love letters for like half a year already. Please go out with me?” That made Johnny laugh, the sound melodic in the quiet of your room. “I would have said yes, you know?” He spoke lowly, “I’ll miss your letters.” “What makes you think I will stop writing them?” “Because you can tell me all that stuff in person now when we go on dates.” “We’ll go on dates?” “That’s what people do when they like each other, princess,” Johnny chuckled, “And I really like you. Both as my secret admirer and my classmate.” “Oh my god stop,” you whined, hiding your hot face in his chest, feeling shy all of a sudden while Johnny was just laughing.
“I like you too,” you eventually mumbled once it had gotten quiet again. “I figured,” he teased you. “I changed my mind,” you immediately shot back, rising from where you were cuddled into his chest but every other protest died on your tongue when you saw his dreamy expression, his honey eyes finding yours and completely ignoring the fact that you were still very much naked. “Date me,” he said. “Okay,” you answered, easily meeting his lips in a sweet kiss that wouldn’t be the last one you two shared tonight.
“Hello and welcome back, that was Middle Of The Night by Monsta X, suggested to us by raibebe through our Twitter with the hashtag JonJaeLoveTalk. We’re your DJ’s John-D.” “And Jae-D on NCT Night Night. Hello again to all of our listeners. John-D.” “Yes Jae-D,” Johnny chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Something is off today. I looked through our mail and there was no letter from your secret admirer.” “Oh really,” he feigned surprise. “Either they didn’t send anything in or our director got sick of the pining.” “I can calm you right back down Jae-D,” Johnny smiled, “Because she simply doesn’t need to send any more letters. I finally found her.” “No way. For real? And you didn’t tell me? I have to find out through our radio show? Friendship is dead,” Jaehyun sighed dramatically and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Jae-D you know you’ll always be the number one in my heart, you know that.” At that Jaehyun let out fake gagging noises that made both friends chuckle.
“No but for real. I finally found her and asked her out. It’s going great so yeah,” Johnny shrugged, “In case you’re listening baby: I’m dropping by later and bring sushi.” “This is so domestic already,” Jaehyun sighed dramatically, “Where is my secret admirer?” “Maybe you could find love as well if you stopped acting like the textbook example of a frat boy.” “What is that even supposed to mean?”
Smiling, you leaned back on your sofa and listened to your boyfriend bickering with his best friend. Boyfriend. That sounded good even though it still felt unreal. Love Letters weren’t dead after all it seemed.
#johnny#nct#neosmutcollective#neosmutletters#kafenetwork#johnny suh#seo youngho#johnny smut#johnny fluff#nct 127#nct smut#nct fluff#nct 127 smut#nct 127 fluff#johnny imagines#johnny scenarios#johnny fanfic#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct fanfic#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 fanfic
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darkest fantasy
childe & f!reader (NSFW)
3.7k words • ~30 min. read
summary: one night you decide to make one of childe’s darkest fantasies into a reality, but as the night progresses, things don’t seem to go according to plan. at least... not according to your plan.
warnings: cnc, sexual assault, blood, death, knives, outdoor sex, lil comfort at the end i promise
notes: saw fatui agent childe fanart and AWOOGA... anyway i tried putting some in game screenshots in this for that extra ~immersion~ and might do that more often in some future fics if you guys want! thanks for 200 followers and i hope you enjoy!! ; ^ ;
“I SHOULDN’T HAVE BROUGHT IT UP,” Childe’s eyebrows furrowed as he rested a hand against his forehead, clearly flustered by the way he chuckled his nervousness away. “You really get me to say the stupidest things, [Y/N].”
“It’s not stupid at all! C’mon, lighten up a bit!” you placed a hand on his arm and inched closer to his face, sensing the warmth in his cheeks. His shy eyes connected with yours when he let out a deep sigh, thanking you for the validation without him needing to say anything. It was rare to see him this nervous.
“We’re not going to do it, babe. You asked me to tell you a secret fantasy and that’s all it’ll ever be. A fantasy. Just something in my imagination.”
He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling away from you and walking towards the bedroom door to call it a night, but you quickly gripped him by the wrist to pull him back which immediately grabbed his attention. Swiftly, you leaned in to mutter words into his ear that would echo in his head for the rest of the night until the next day.
“Luckily for you, the thought of doing it gets me a little excited. So why don’t we try to make your fantasy into a reality?”
THE HARBOR’S NIGHT LIFE always flourished near the end of the week. Plenty of workers who had weekends off would fish by the docks, street performers and storytellers would entertain families passing by, and restaurants would be packed full with hungry customers craving for the delectable cuisine of Liyue. Teenage friends gathered in front of the theatre while the elderly seemed to congregate by the teahouse. Children ran across the pavement from time to time flying kites and playing with butterflies. Liyue was truly fascinating during the night, full of a liveliness that always put a sense of joy in each heart that walked through its streets.
Yet when you walked through the streets, lacking a companion and cold from the slightly revealing dress you wore, there was a sickly mixture of giddy excitement and wrenching anxiety in your heart. You had loosely planned this night with Childe so you knew what to expect, but at the same time, you didn’t. You had no idea where he was, what exactly he was planning to do to you, or when it would all start in the first place since you had been wandering around the harbor for about an hour now. All he wanted you to do was “wear this dress and enjoy your evening,” as he said in his own words. But he simply left you with those vague instructions as well as a bag of Mora to indulge yourself with.
Even if he didn’t show up, the highlight of your night would be the mouthwatering dinner you had by yourself along with the sight of people offering lanterns to the sky. It was a beautiful night indeed.
Another hour of wandering and occupying yourself with activities passed and you were feeling restless. The thought of Childe made you squirm in your seat, excitement flooding your nerves as you craved to see him now more than ever.
If Childe’s following me, I should go somewhere less crowded, you thought.
Assuming he was watching you at this very moment, you decided to make things easier for him, leaving the storyteller’s pavilion and walking across the bridge heading towards Mt. Tianheng. Mindlessly wandering and following the dirt path, you began to veer left towards the Golden House, but the distant sight of the Millelith immediately turned you back around.
Not there.
ON YOUR WAY BACK to the main path, you noticed a smaller, less travelled road wedged between two large rocks, the dimly lit lantern sitting up ahead enticing you to follow where it leads. You found yourself curiously walking up the hill, taking in the starry night sky and whistling trees until you turned the final corner to see a group of miners idly standing around, bantering with one nearby Millelith guard.
They noticed your sudden presence and waved hello, to which you waved hello back. One of the miners, who leaned against a cart full of iron, was the first to fully acknowledge you. “Hey, are you lost, miss?”
“Oh, no, not at all. I was just curiously wandering around, taking in the sights and all,” you grinned politely, glancing up at the calm night sky. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it boys?”
“Taking in the sights, are you?” another miner slowly approached you, a few more starting to pay attention to you. “You know, you’re certainly a sight to take in too with that pretty little dress of yours.”
You had completely forgotten that you looked very out of place with what you were wearing – a short traditional-like dress with a small hole exposing a small area of your chest. Your eyes quickly widened as you processed what the miner said, but before you fully realized it and came back to your senses, the men had circled around you and were getting dangerously close. You instinctively reached down to grab the blade that was usually tucked and sheathed in your belt but after grabbing nothing with the realization that of course, you were wearing a dress, genuine panic began to seep in.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out late at night looking like that anyway? You’re practically begging to be touched,” a man’s voice behind you teased, grabbing your hips as he emphasized that last word. You swiftly elbowed him in the ribs to defend yourself and temporarily push him away, but the other men were quick to react as a pair of hands grabbed your arms and pinned you into place.
You snapped your head towards the Millelith guard, expecting him to do something to help you as a protector of the harbor. But he simply stood there at his post, glancing away as soon as you met his eyes. And if Childe were watching, you were sure he would have stepped in by now. He was often the jealous type anyway. But while the men slowly pulled you under a nearby deteriorated pergola despite your thrashing then greedily groped your body, help was nowhere to be seen.
All hope you had for a fun night was gone. Tears swelled in your eyes as you attempted to kick away the hungry hands but it was no use. Please, you silently prayed, someone help me!
As if someone had heard your prayers, the sound of a projectile zipping past your head followed by your arms being freed from the man who was restricting you was the sound of freedom. The others looked up in horror and paused their advances as their friend dropped injured behind you. Suddenly, a dark figure leaped from the hill above and landed on the ground confidently, quickly pulling out two blades then lunging forward to the miners, catching them by surprise. You took this temporary moment of freedom to kick the hands off of you and scramble away, running back towards the path. You could hear the sounds of bodies thumping to the ground behind you coupled with loud groans of agony, and you can only imagine what your unknown savior looked like but all you could focus on was getting away as soon as possible with the limited mental strength you had.
But much to your dismay, one of the miners still managed to grab you tightly and drag you back, and every time you wiggled away, they had a strong grip on you. Sobs of desperation escaped your throat, “Let me go! Let me go, please! Help!”
“Leaving so soon?” a different voice growled in your ear as the man’s grip around your waist tightened. It was deep, distorted, and certainly anxiety inducing. You looked down in a flurry of panic to see black and red sleeves wrapped around your figure. This was not one of the miners.
The man lifted you up a few inches from the ground to turn you around. You were faced with bodies littering the floor. It had only been less than ten seconds and the entire scene was drenched in blood. The sight of the freshly killed miners as well as the one guard made you tremble in fear rather than feel grateful for being saved just now.
“I think I deserve a reward for protecting you from those filthy bastards, wouldn’t you agree?” the man inched you closer to the bodies but you closed your eyes as soon as you could recognize the open wounds from his blades. “At least a thank you would be nice.”
“Get away from me!” you yelled and thrashed in his arms again but quickly stopped once you heard the sound of his blade being unsheathed. You opened your eyes to see a bloodied dead man at your feet as well as a knife at your throat, pressing gently at your fragile skin.
“You’re a tough one, aren’t you? I wouldn’t be so resistant if I were you,” the man’s gravelly voice was definitely unfamiliar but his tone and inflection reminded you of...
“Childe....” you weakly muttered under your breath, which made the man laugh in response.
“Childe, you say? You have something to do with the boss?” he pressed his hips harder against yours, his erection subtly throbbing underneath his clothes.
“So you’re Fatui, aren’t you?” you mustered enough courage to make your voice sound threatening enough. You let out a sarcastic laugh despite your low confidence. “You have no idea who you’re messing with. Once Childe finds out about this, your life will be over within seconds.”
“Who are you to say something like that?” he slowly began walking the two of you over to the nearest wall, a large rock that cast an equally large shadow from the moonlight. “I’m surprised a dumb little slut like you would even know his name.”
Your eyes squinted at the insult. “You don’t need to know who I am. All you have to know is you’ll be dead by tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll see about that,” he suddenly used his free arm to turn you around so your back slammed against the cold rock. You finally looked up at your captor to confirm your suspicions of this predatory savior. He was certainly part of the Fatui, his red and black mask concealing his identity with yellow glowing eyes staring directly at you. His arm positioned itself directly next to your head so he could hold his blade against your neck again, threatening any potential thoughts of escaping. His other hand suddenly grabbed the open space in your dress and pulled down, ripping the fabric in half and exposing your half naked form, eliciting a loud gasp from you. Panic began to seep in. How could I walk back home practically naked? Would I even end up alive to come back home?
Before you could use your arms to cover yourself up in an attempt at modesty, he pressed the blade to your neck that even the slightest movement would ensure spilled blood. “Don’t even think about it.”
He looked up and down at your body, humming with satisfaction as he began to unzip his pants and free his cock. You couldn’t exactly take a good look at it with the knife restricting your range of motion, but even then, you weren’t sure you wanted to look. His free hand gripped your bare waist. “And to think that those other filthy men were about to get their hands on this... You really should thank me.”
Another gasp escaped your throat as he slowly dug his hand under the strap of your underwear. His leather gloves snaked their way further down, inching closer and closer to your core. You could feel his grip on his blade tighten with his tensed muscles. “That was a command. Thank me.”
“T-Thank you,” you whimpered as he pulled down the last bit of clothing you hid behind. He let out a satisfied groan at the sight of your aching cunt, which you hated to admit was dripping wet from thinking about Childe earlier in the night. Even now, you really hated to admit this situation was somehow turning you on, even though you were simultaneously disgusted and shaking in fear.
“You’re practically soaking for me, aren’t you?” the man let out a slow chuckle as he dipped a gloved finger into your hole without warning. You gasped at the sudden penetration, careful not to arch your back into his touch with the knife still pressed at your throat. The man began relentlessly shifting his finger in and out of you and watched your face squirm with pleasure and denial at the same time. He maniacally chuckled at the way you were completely unsure of how to feel, and wanting to hear you moan louder instead of quietly pant and sigh, he inserted another finger and picked up the pace.
“Your cunt is so tight, you know that?” he teased, “If you’re moaning like this now I can only imagine how my cock will make you feel.”
“N-No, please,” you moaned out helplessly, “Please don’t...”
He pulled his fingers away and quickly shoved them into your mouth while it was still open, freeing your throat from his knife and slowly trailing it down your body while he made you suck on his gloved fingers, wet from your own fluids. The cold metal found itself settling right above your hips and with no hesitation he began leaving flesh wounds, the leftover blood from the men easily being mistaken as yours at first glance.
“I’m going to put away the knife, but you’ll be a good girl for me and stay still, won’t you? You saw what I did to those men. It would be a shame if you met the same fate just because you wanted to escape,” he sheathed the blade and pulled his fingers out of your mouth to grab your waist, forcing you to turn around. He bent down slightly to get a hold of your thighs, and in one swift move, folded your body into the likings of a full nelson, your legs hanging onto his elbows with his chest pressed against your tense back. As he reached his hands to clasp behind your neck and push your body into the intense position, the connection between this man and Childe made your eyes light up.
This was one of his favorite positions. No way it was just coincidence.
“So it is you, Childe,” you happily grinned as he turned the both of you to face the bloodied mess from before so he could lean against the wall. His touches seemed to get more familiar as the realization sunk in, but at the same time, you wondered if your mind was just playing tricks on you to make the best out of the current situation. You sat on the fence of either blindly believing this mysterious man was Childe or giving into the reality that this really was a stranger.
“You’re delusional, slut. Childe has nothing to do with this, I don’t know why you keep mentioning his name,” he hissed in your ear, getting more and more irritated.
You finally glanced down for the first time since nothing could restrict your neck anymore. To your delight, you smiled at his throbbing cock twitching as it waited at your entrance, aching to stir your insides. You giggled sweetly, finally relaxing with a deep sigh. You now knew with certainty that you were safe. Everything was under control. His control.
“Childe, I recognize every inch of your cock like it’s second nature,” you stared at his familiar length then reached out to wrap your fingers around the tip, the muscle twitching in response. “You’ve never been this hard before... You must be so excited right now.”
“One more word out of you about Childe and I will kill you right here. Do not test me.”
“You wouldn’t, right? You love me too much,” you boldly declared, teasing him for staying in character. When he didn’t answer and instead shifted his cock to push his tip inside you, you let out a sharp exhale. He went in too fast, too rough. Even if you were dripping wet, the way he shoved himself inside you was merciless and tore you apart immediately.
You tried to find the pleasure in it but as soon as he started thrusting not even a few seconds later, you worriedly whispered, “S-Slow down... Please! It hurts, Ajax-“
“You’re going to take all of it in. Maybe that’ll teach you not to be an annoying, disobedient brat from now on,” he interrupted.
Destroying you was an understatement of what he was truly doing to your body. He would repeatedly pull his length out before shoving it back in, rolling his hips so naturally with each thrust having clear intention to break you apart. Your cunt visibly throbbed, the excruciating pain slowly turning into ethereal pleasure from the attention it was getting from his thick shaft. He closely listened to the way your cries turns into gleeful moans, excitedly fucking you as his mind further indulged in the fantasy. After all, this entire night had been exceedingly frustrating and enticing to him and to take out all his pent up energy on you was the only thing on his lust filled mind.
Soon enough, his thrusts began to roll in harder as he held onto you tightly, his moans becoming more intense as the only thing on his mind was how good he was feeling, fucking you in front of the kills he certainly prided himself on. Similarly, you felt your insides burn at the feeling of being manhandled and treated like a toy, or the way he began moaning your name in a low whisper as you felt his cock twitching inside you, aching for release – the first time he had ever acknowledged your name tonight.
“[Y/N], baby – fuck!” his distorted voice cried out, “I’m... I’m gonna...!”
“Me too...!” you felt your legs shake violently as you neared your climax, “A-Ajax!”
He let out one final thrust, burying himself inside of you until his length plugged up your sore hole and dumped his seed deep inside you. His load came in pulses, slowly coating your insides with moans of ecstasy ringing in your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder. Your cunt quivered as you reached your release as well, your fluids swirling with his to make one happy mix of satisfaction.
The both of you stayed in this position, panting and trying to calm down from your highs. Childe let go of his hands behind your neck and positioned them to hold your knees without pulling out of you, allowing you to freely move your head again. Though, you didn’t want to take your eyes off of his cock buried inside of you, opting to keep your head hanging down to actively avoid looking at the bodies in front of you. Childe must have noticed this, and of course, he had to say something about it.
“Sorry about... them. I hate... really hate when people try to mess with what’s mine,” he took a deep sigh as he slowly pulled out of you, watching his cum ooze out from your cunt to drip down to the space between his shoes. The sight could have been enough for him to push for another round, but he figured now wasn’t the time. He had the urge to explain himself.
“I was just so mad and... though I have to admit, seeing their blood on my blade got me so excited... wait, I think I might’ve gotten a little too excited,” something seemed to have clicked in his mind when he said that, “Baby, I’m so sorry! We shouldn’t have done this, I did so many things to you, I’m so sorr-“
“It’s okay, Childe,” you slowly turned your head to his so your faces were only an inch apart, his mask being the sole barrier that stopped you from kissing him to shut him up. “I had so much fun. Did you?”
“Of course I did,” he slowly placed you down to stand on your feet again, which was admittedly tough since he had fucked the life out of you. He briefly held your waist to stabilize you as you wobbled back and forth, his cum now dripping down your thighs. He then lifted his hood up to reveal his fluffy red hair and took off his mask, throwing it to the ground to meet you with teary eyes. His voice was no longer distorted by that cursed mask, and a look of genuine concern sat in his deep eyes. “I-I’m so sorry for scaring you, [Y/N]. I could see it in your eyes the entire time and I hate to admit that it turned me on and now I feel so bad–“
You swiftly pressed your lips to his, finally shutting him up from his rambling. He responded by eagerly returning the kiss, cupping your face in his hands and closing his eyes. For a moment, his troubles melted away once he realized you weren’t upset with him, and millions of thoughts about how much he loved you raced through his mind. But It wasn’t long before he broke the exchange, taking off his hooded garments to drape it over your cold, naked body. It was apparent he put thought into this moment, already wearing his normal clothes underneath the Fatui uniform as if he had planned to cover you up from the start. He made sure to pin it closed and fasten it tightly, ensuring that every exposed part of you was warm and covered. Once he was done, he pulled you in for a hug, holding you tightly as he stared at the bodies behind you, sighing contently.
“I love you, [Y/N]. Thank you for accepting me for who I am and letting me have tonight. We really don’t have to do this ever again if you don’t want to.”
“I love you too,” you smiled sweetly. “Just... next time, please don’t keep me waiting so long. The uncertainty was thrilling but I was sure I was going to die back there.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time. I just got caught up with the Millelith because I’m dressed like an agent, then I lost sight of you and... wait,” he pressed his forehead against yours and gently, yet eagerly whispered with a grin, “so there’s really going to be a next time?”
#childe#childe x reader#tartaglia#tartaglia x reader#ajax#ajax x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact smut#mine#bang#genshin impact x reader
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Dress - Bucky Barnes
bucky barnes x fem!reader
wc: 5k
plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier.
content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt.
a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him
***
Damn. That was a lot of leg.
“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”
“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”
“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.
But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.
“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”
“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.
“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”
“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.
“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”
“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”
Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.
“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.
What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.
Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…
At that point you were in love.
But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.
As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.
And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.
“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”
“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.
What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.
***
Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.
You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.
It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?
And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…
Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.
It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.
Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.
So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.
It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.
Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?
Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.
“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.
“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?
After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.
“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”
“W-what do you mean?”
“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”
“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.
“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”
“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”
“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”
“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.
Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.
“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”
“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”
“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”
“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”
“Nope, not a chance.”
“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”
His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.
“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”
“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.
His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.
“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.
“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?
“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”
“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”
“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”
You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.
“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”
“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.
“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”
“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.
“Uh…um…get on with what?”
“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”
“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?
“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.
“Well you better kiss me, then.”
As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.
***
That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.
All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.
You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…
Damn, you felt sexy.
And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.
But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.
The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?
The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.
As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.
“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.
“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”
Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.
Then, you saw him.
Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.
The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.
Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”
“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”
Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.
“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.
“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”
“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.
Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?
Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.
As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.
“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.
“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.
“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.
“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”
“Is that all?”
Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.
“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”
“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”
Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.
“I want you.”
It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.
“Well why don’t you—”
“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”
Was…was he slurring his words?
“Thor…are you drunk right now?”
He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.
“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”
“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?
“Of course, metal appendage.”
“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”
“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.
“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.
“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”
“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”
“Bucky—”
“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”
Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.
And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.
***
As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.
For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.
Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.
Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…
But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.
But god damn, that dress.
Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?
She was breathtaking.
“Buck, you breathing?”
A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.
“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.
“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”
Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.
“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”
“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”
“…fuck.”
“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.
Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”
“We’re that obvious?”
“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”
“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.
***
“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.
“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”
“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”
Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.
“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”
“What do you me—”
Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.
Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.
“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”
“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”
“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”
Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”
“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.
“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.
The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.
As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.
Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.
“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”
He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.
Oh damn.
Okay.
No complaints here.
“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”
“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”
The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.
“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.
“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.
“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.
“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”
***
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes x you#dress#jenna writes#i love lanie#laniestaylorswiftwc
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Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments
when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???
but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.
firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.
secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:
writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.
in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.
because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.
but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.
the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.
now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.
i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.
now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!
add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.
now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.
then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.
sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.
but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.
and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.
for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.
so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.
if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.
#long post#rant#i almost deleted this#but you sent it on just the right day and instead i let loose#this is unedited and unbetaed lmao but ENJOY#or don't#whatever#writing stuff#i should tag it#writing SHIT#but that's not really a tag i keep cause who wants to keep track of the negatives#not me
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Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader
Words: Guessing cuz I’m on mobile again, 1.5k?
Summary: Andy has a new job and needs you to save him from forced camaraderie.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex), alcohol consumption by adults of appropriate age, Neal Logiudice (cuz fuck this guy), SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!
A/N: Another one from the WIP folder that is specifically for @imanuglywombat’s “Is that even a sex position?” challenge, week three. I figured a nice soft position would be perfect for our favorite floofy lawyer boi. Please check out the other great fics this challenge has given us and enjoy!
Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!!
It had been a slow night at the bar, so your staff practically insisted on sending you home early, Jesse shoving out the door as you protested feebly.
“Take a night off, boss.” He grumbled amicably as he ushered you towards your car, handing you your coat and bag as a light snow started to fall. “Maybe go snuggle with that boyfriend of yours that’s always hanging around. Where is he tonight anyway?”
“There was a new faculty mixer.” You said with an eye roll. “You’re sure you’ll be fine, Jess?”
“We’re always fine.” He said dismissively with a wave of his hand as you climbed into your vehicle.
You texted Andy as you started your car to see where he was and he practically begged you to come meet him at the party, whining about how sinfully boring law professors were. You got the address from him and headed out, arriving in the posh Newton neighborhood in a little under 30 minutes.
There were a few partygoers hanging around outside, and you cursed to yourself when you saw them wearing cocktail attire. Leave it to Andy to forget to mention a dress code. Thank god your dry cleaning was in the back.
You tried to find something relatively conservative and settled on a simple satin sheath that was probably a little shorter than was appropriate but it’s not like you had a lot of options. You started to awkwardly disrobe in your front seat, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling your sweater over your head. A surprising knock on the window made you yelp while you were bent over the console with the back of your dress unzipped to grab your emergency heels.
“Ma’am, we’ve gotten some reports of an extremely attractive woman getting naked in a 2003 Acura, any chance that’s you.” A gravelly voice said behind a blinding flashlight.
You growled and opened your driver’s side door into Andy, almost making him drop his phone in the street. He let out a chuckle at your scowl as you stepped out of the car and straightened up, starting to pull the zipper of your dress up your back.
“I would’ve changed at the bar if you let me know this was a cocktail party asshole.” You snarled at him, turning to let him help you draw the zipper up the last few inches.
“Or, you would’ve gone back to your apartment to try to find something else to wear, and I would’ve been stuck listening to professor McDrones-A-lot talk about torts for god knows how long.”
“Aww, are your new coworkers boring, babe?” You teased him as he wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you inside.
“God, they’re so fucking boring.” He murmured into your hair before turning to introduce you to some ancient man with elbow patches. “Professor Donaldson, this is Y/N.” He said, throwing you a wink. “She was just telling me how interested she is in tort reform.”
“Splendid! Are you a lawyer my dear?”
You shook your head and did your best to listen politely as you glared at Andy over the old man’s shoulder. He gave you a stupid grin before heading to the bar to grab the two of you some drinks.
“What the fuck are you doing here, sweetheart?”
You cursed under your breath and turned to glare at Neal Logiudice, the absolute last person you wanted to see.
“Hello Neal.” You grumbled.
“Get out of here, Wally.” He said, dismissing the professor he had very rudely interrupted. “Go find some other asshole to bother.”
The old man just huffed and gave you a sympathetic pat on the arm as he hobbled away.
“That was rude.” You said, your eyes roaming the room in search of Andy. You didn’t feel like dealing with Neal’s bullshit tonight. “Why are you here Neal? I thought this was a faculty only event.”
“Alumni are invited too. And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.” He growled, stepping closer and invading your bubble. “Cuz you’re definitely not alumni or faculty. You work your way through all the lawyer dick at your bar and come looking for more?”
“Lovely.” You said dryly, frowning at the smell of whiskey that enveloped the man. “You’re drunk.”
You felt a warm hand on your shoulder and turned your head just enough to see Andy scowling behnd you. He slotted himself beside you and wrapped his arm around you in a protective embrace as he and Neal stared each other down.
“Logiudice.” He said menacingly, and you rolled your eyes as the levels of testosterone in the room shot up suddenly.
“Barber.” The giant said with a sneer. “I see you’ve moved on to the leftover dregs of the Newton law community. I hear that pussy’s had every defense attorney cock in town.”
Andy let out an absolutely feral growl and you just managed to hold him back as you glared at Neal.
“Jesus, Neal. Glad to see you’re not bitter.” You said with little humor as your arm strained against Andy’s chest.
“No bitterness here, sweetheart. Just waiting for you to work your way to me.” He leered at you, giving you a lascivious wink.
You let out a sigh as you started to shove Andy away from the idiot, grateful for all your experience manhandling drunks as he fought against you every step of the way.
“He’s not worth it, baby.” You murmured once you had achieved a good amount of distance, your hands smoothing his jacket over his chest in a soothing gesture as Neal let out a guffaw behind you.
“I dunno, I kinda feel like punching him in the face is definitely worth it, sweetheart.” Andy said as he took some deep breaths and turned his gaze back to you.
“Maybe not at your first event for your new job though.” You teased him, tugging softly on his beard and making him grin at you. “Where’s my fucking drink?”
“Shit, I got distracted. I’ll be right back.” He said apologetically, starting to turn away from you.
“Oh no, you are not leaving me by myself again. All I need is to get cornered by some crazy professor who wants to tell me all about bird law.” You said as you tagged after him, the two of you weaving your way through the partygoers as you made your way to the bar.
“What the fuck is ‘bird law’?” He beamed at you after ordering your drinks, leaning against the bar and cocking one eyebrow at you.
“Jesus, I think you might be too classy for me, Barber.” You teased. “We’ve gotta work on your pop culture references.”
The two of you managed to have a relatively pleasant evening, even though you had no idea what anyone was talking about most of the time. But you loved watching how relaxed Andy was around you, and how passionate he got whenever he started to debate with one of his new colleagues. He was in the middle of a particularly heated discussion about the evolution of laws regarding sovereign immunity when he noticed you gazing at him, and his face broke out in a grin.
“You’ll have to excuse me, guys, I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten and I worry I’ve been neglecting my date. Let’s continue this on Monday?”
He made his way through the party, saying some quick goodbyes as his hand rested on your lower back. You let out a soft moan when you reached the foyer and he pressed you into the wall, his lips brushing against yours before he broke away to find his coat.
He returned after a few minutes and wrapped his arms around your waist, his mouth moving against yours hungrily as he guided you out the door.
“Jesus, Andy!” You whined when he lifted you slightly as the two of you made your way to his Range Rover. You bent your knees so your toes wouldn’t drag along the pavement.
“I dunno what you expected when you were looking at me like that, sweetheart.” He teased as he wrapped one arm around you tightly and brought his other hand to fumble through his coat pockets in search of his keys.
“I couldn’t help it.” You murmured in his ear as he pressed you against the driver’s side door, working to open the door to the back seat. “All that law talk does things to me.”
“Yeah?” He muttered around a grin, finally getting the door open and setting you down across the back seat. “You didn’t find it boring?”
“Not when it was you, Professor Barber.” You said in a husky voice, winking at him as he climbed on top of you and pulled the door closed behind him.
“Fuck honey.” He growled as he tossed his coat in the front seat before burying his face in your neck. “You’re gonna need to call me professor more often.”
“Mmm, professor.” You hummed as he ran his teeth over your throat before sucking a bruise over your collarbone. “I had some questions about affidavits I was hoping you could help me with.”
He gave a dark chuckle against your chest as his mouth kept moving lower, his lips brushing over the swell of your breasts as his hands moved under your back to unzip your dress. Once he had it open he yanked it off you and tossed it aside, bending over you again to nip at your skin as you dragged his suit jacket off over his shoulders.
“Why do I feel like you just want to hear me say affidavits?” He teased as you drew his tie off and started to work on his shirt buttons. He wrapped your thighs around his hips and ground himself into you, making you whimper as a fresh rush of arousal flooded your panties.
“Fuck, say more lawyer words, professor.” You whined as he drew the straps of your bra down your shoulders, drawing your breasts out of the soft lace and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples.
“Amicus brief.” He teased as his tongue laved over your nipple and you felt your pussy clench around nothing.
He moved to give your other breast the same soft attention as you worked on undoing his belt, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he worked you over. You finally drew his belt off and he sat up to remove his slacks, his lust blown eyes never leaving yours as he dragged his pants and boxer briefs down over his legs, tossing them on top of the rest of his clothes in the front seat as his cock bounced up against his abs, making your mouth fill with saliva at the sight.
You didn’t give him a chance to dive on top of you again, instead climbing into his lap as he knelt there and sucking his lower lip into your mouth. He groaned against your lips as you brought a hand down to wrap around his dick. You dragged his length through the slick that had soaked your thighs before shoving your panties aside and guiding him to your entrance.
Andy let out a deep sigh as you sank onto him, taking his full length in one smooth motion until he was fully seated in you. His tongue pressed between your lips and curved against yours as you wrapped one hand around his neck and the other around his bicep.
“You’re so goddamn perfect, baby.” He muttered against your lips as he started moving his hips at a languorous pace. “So fucking warm and wet for me.”
“Mmm, Andy.” You moaned as you nipped at his lips softly. “I love having you inside me.”
“Yeah, pretty girl?” He murmured as he started to move a little faster. “You love feeling my big cock in that tight little pussy?”
“Fuck, I need this cock, baby.” You hissed, resting your forehead against his and staring into his eyes. “Nobody fucks me like you do.”
“Shit. You’re squeezing me so good, honey.” He muttered as he ground against you. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
“Fuck, I’m so close, Andy.” You whined as his hips thrust against you even harder. “God, right there. I’m gonna cum”
“Do it, I wanna see that cream all over my dick.” He buried his face in your neck and gave one last violent push of his hips.
You let out a cry as every muscle in your body went rigid, your fingers digging painfully into his neck and shoulders. Your pussy clenched around him for a beat before fluttering in your release as your torso rolled against his and a wave of intense pleasure washed over you.
“Jesus, baby.” He murmured as you came down, straightening his legs one at a time as he held you to him tightly.
You were still kneeling and the new angle had him hitting you even deeper than before, making stars burst behind your closed eyelids. Andy bent his knees slight behind you and leaned you back to rest against them as he moved his mouth to your breasts, making you whimper as his tongue brushed against your nipple.
“God, I could spend all night like this.” He murmured as he started pulling you down to him over and over, making you devolve into a mewling, whimpering mess. “My face buried in these perfect tits and my cock buried in that perfect pussy.”
You felt yourself clench around him at the praise and dug both hands in the hair at the base of his skull, pressing his mouth to your chest as you arched into him. His cock twitched inside you in response as he let out a deep groan, his hips meeting yours desperately.
“I’m gonna cum again, shit. You close, baby?” You felt him nodding between your breasts as his hips stuttered. “Fuck, I wanna feel it fill me up. I love when your cum inside me.”
“Goddamn it.” He hissed, and that was it for both of you.
Your knees squeezed his hips painfully as you tugged at his hair, a moan coming from deep in your chest as your orgasm ripped through you. Your cunt fluttered uncontrollably as your muscles spasmed around him, milking his cock for everything he could give you. He shouted your name against your chest and dug his fingers into your waist as his spend filled you up, painting your velvety walls in hot ropes that mixed with your own release and seeped over your thighs in a thick mess.
He collapsed back against the seat with a groan, taking you with him as he still held you tightly. You nuzzled into his neck as aftershocks still shook through you, your pussy clenching around his softening cock at random intervals.
“Well, fuck me Professor Barber.” You teased as he buried his face in your hair.
He let out a groan and grinned at you as he brought his face to meet yours, his tongue slipping between your lips as he kissed you deeply.
“God, I fucking love you.” He whispered without thought as his hands ran over your spine. His hands stopped suddenly as he realized what he’d said and his held his breath as he waited for your reply.
You just buried your face in his chest hair and sighed before whispering “Love you too, Andy.”
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#natalie writes#uglywombatsexpositionchallenge#andy barber/reader#andy barber fanfic#andy barber x y/n#andy barber/you#andy barber x you#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber x female reader#andy barber smut#andy barber#fanfic#fanfiction#chris evans#chrisevans#chris evans smut#chris evans fanfiction#smut#eighteen and over#eighteen plus#minors dni#no minors please
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Sweating, And A Lesson On Self-Worth
masterlist
Summary: Spencer finds himself falling for his NAT (new agent training) defensive tactics coach.
Pairing: SR x Fem!Reader *described as petite to give the illusion of assumed vulnerability when IRL she’s a badass— no other specific physical details are mentioned*
Category: Fluff
TW: Mentions of body image, general CM talk, mentions of fighting/grappling/wrestling, small age gap (reader is 28 & reid is 22)
concept inspired by @sierraraeck’s fic “Bad Liar” about Morgan training Spencer. I love wrestling so I wanted to do one about a badass female combat coach/agent.
REBLOG!
-
When Spencer and the rest of the trainees are ushered into the fitness center on their second day at the academy, he almost shits himself. He’s well aware of the physical demands being in the FBI requires, and he’s been dreading the PFT (Physical Fitness Test) since he applied.
There are hundreds of men and women huddled in the middle of the room, anticipating the orientation, and Spencer feels his palms sweat before he’s even started working out. The majority of the trainees are football players, wrestling’s, and weight lifters— he can tell by their muscular build and general atmosphere of strength and confidence.
SSA Jesse Fallon introduces their defensive tactics coach for the next twenty weeks— a petite but athletic woman. She’s dressed in a gray t-shirt and flexible khaki pants— Spencer would be lying if he said she didn’t look gorgeous, even in the bland attire.
“I’m SSA and defensive tactics coach (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” She introduces herself, giving a warm smile to the crowd. “I’ve been an SSA for five years and the head coach of this portion of the academy for two. This is my third official wave of trainees— and believe me— I won’t be going easy on any of you.”
Light laughter disperses through the crowd, and Spencer wears an uneasy look on his face.
“Today, I’ve prepped stations for each of you to cycle through for the next three hours. Agent Rivera is monitoring the weapon defense; Agent Glover is in charge of the takedowns; And I’ll be handling hand-to-hand combat and grappling. You’ll spend an hour at each station, run a mile at the end, and then you’re done for the day. Sound good?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Choruses through the crowd.
SSA (Y/N) clasps her hands together, “Alright, you know your groups. Split up!”
-
Spencer’s assigned to the takedown station first. Agent Glover’s criticisms are primarily nonconstructive, and Spencer struggles with apprehending and cuffing his more robust and much more muscular partner on the floor. He’s never trained this hard for anything in his life, physically, speaking. He’s half-dead within the first hour, and he dreads having to do this two more times.
His next stop is with Agent Rivera, who’s much kinder to Spencer than his prior. Reid is better at disarming his opponent, but his long limbs flail wildly due to his incoordination— he’s trying his best, but he sees the way everyone else giggles at him. It’s a blow to the chest that leaves him defeated more than any gunshot could.
The last hour is spent working at SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s station. She commands the attention of the entire group so naturally, despite being considered a rookie, she has an intimidating amount of knowledge.
“How many of you are wrestlers or judokas?” About sixty percent of the group raises their hand, and Spencer scans around for who might have the strength to kill him with one blow.
“Good,” She smiles. “This will come naturally to you, then. Now, a head-and-arm throw most likely won’t work in the field— so, sorry, judokas. However, double legs, body locks, and blast-doubles are constantly used to take down an unsub with minimal injury to the agent. Even someone as short as me can use leverage to grapple and control a much taller person.” (Y/N) scans the crowd of trainees for a moment before pointing directly at Spencer.
“You, come here.” She commands, and Spencer waddles nervously up next to her on the mat. “This is...”
He’s confused for a moment before realizing she’s asking for his name. “S-Spencer Reid.”
“Hi, Spencer.” She smiles. “How tall are you?”
“Six foot two.”
“Spencer has the advantage of almost a whole foot of height against me. But, I can use his higher center of gravity to tip him over more easily. We do this a lot in wrestling— being low to the ground and agile is important.”
(Y/N) firmly plants her hands on Spencer’s shoulder, moving him so that he’s turned to the side. “This move is called a modified blast double— it prioritizes attacking the ankles and knees rather than the knees and abdomen.”
She leans in closer to Spencer, “Don’t post your wrist out when you fall.” She whispers in his ear, sending chills down his spine. “Keep your neck tucked too.” Her breath is warm and minty, and Spencer almost forgets that he has 30 other people watching him.
“I’m going to simulate an active attack with Spencer. Doing this move in a wrestling match is much more controlled than against a rogue criminal playing by their own rules. They might have a melee or close-range weapon like a knife or hammer on them, so it’s important to make this move when the best opportunity strikes.”
“Spencer’s going to run at me and attempt to land a punch to my face.” She gives him a nod, and he chambers over to her.
Swiftly crouching lower to the ground, she launches herself towards him, gripping the back of his ankles and pushing her shoulder into his knees, and suddenly he’s flying back onto the mat. She follows through, straddling Spencer’s hips and covering his movements with an arm under his neck.
He’s out of breath as he watches the beautiful SSA leaning above him. His head is slightly sore from the impact, but overall he feels... invigorated.
“You never let your opponent fall onto the ground without covering them. Straddling your opponent allows you to keep them down while having full use of your fists.” She swings her leg off of Spencer, standing up. She reaches a hand out and quickly yanks him up.
“Find someone and drill that move. I’m coming around to help all of you.”
She gives Spencer a firm pat on his back, to which he blushes furiously, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth.
-
Spencer spent the rest of the hour getting slammed onto the mat over and over by various men and women. His entire shirt is soaked, and his breathing is so labored he thinks he’s going to faint. SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N) might have appeared at ease earlier in the day, but she wasn’t kidding when she promised she would work them to no end. Everyone was at the brink of death when they approached the last lap of their mile— Spencer at risk of passing out more than others.
The relief he feels after completing his tenth lap around the gym is euphoric. Trainees collapse onto the ground with exhaustion all around him.
“Great job today.” SSA (Y/N) compliments happily. “I appreciate all the effort you guys showed today. It better still be here in four months.” And with that, she excuses them, along with the agents monitoring each station.
Spencer’s one of the last agents to trickle out of the gym. His legs feel like jello when he walks, and his lungs burn.
He almost makes it past the threshold of the door before his name is called.
“Dr. Reid.” She beckons him over with a finger. “May I talk to you for a moment.”
Spencer nervously shuffles over. “Yes, SSA (Y/L/N)?”
“I applaud your effort at training today. I can tell you were working hard.” He blushes. “But I’ve been informed that the board is willing to wave all physical training requirements for your acceptance into the FBI.”
“Yeah... I-I uh figured they’d want me for my IQ only.” He jokes nervously, shrugging his shoulders. He knows it’s disrespectful not to look her in the eye, but she intimidates him too much.
She laughs, and it’s a sweet, joyful sound that Spencer can’t get enough of. She’s powerful and radiant— stealing attention from everyone else. “You’re charming, and your reputation precedes you.”
Charming? Since when has little Spencer Reid ever been charming? He smiles awkwardly, looking off to the side to hide his blush.
“You know, the forensics department wants their hands on the trainee with the chemistry doctorate, and the surveillance department wants the kid with eidetic memory, and word has it that you speak more than four languages, so everyone wants their fair share.”
“W-why are you telling me this?” Spencer asks, voice shy and barely above a whisper.
“Because,” she places a tender hand on his shoulder, “You need to carry yourself with more confidence, Spencer. I saw you— surrounded by all those athletes— it made you feel out of place. I get it.”
“How d-do you get it?”
“I was 23 years old when I became an SSA, surrounded by people two decades older than me. I felt like the office secretary— constantly getting pushed around by people I was afraid to upset. But the thing is, Spencer, you need to demand respect from other people. I’m not saying you need to be arrogant or be a bully, but you are one of— if not the most promising agent trainee— and you need to realize your self-worth.”
“I’m smart, I-I know that. But I’m not strong or athletic by any means.” He sighs, gripping the duffle bag slung across his shoulder tightly.
“That’s alright. You’re not going to be Kyle Dake overnight. But you can’t beat yourself up about it.” (Y/N) chuckles lightly.
Spencer thinks for a moment, “T-thank you... for uh saying all those nice things about me.”
“They're true.” She nods.
“I think I’ll continue with the defensive tactics training. I could um use it.” Its partially true, but he’s most inclined to stick around because of the kind and beautiful SSA that’ll be training him.
“Yay! That’s great, Spencer.” She cheers, wrapping him in a hug that’s a little too friendly to be professional. He accepts despite being drenched in sweat.
Her arms are wrapped tightly around Spencer, and she pats him on the back twice before pulling away like a proud mentor would. He can’t decide if (Y/N) would be a better girlfriend or a better teacher. If she would, he’d prefer for her to be both. He’d give her all he had to offer if she’d allow him.
He doesn’t recognize the smile that plays on her lips, and it’s a foreign feeling for the aggressive and focused SSA. She hasn’t felt something like this in a while, especially not for a nerdy trainee named Dr. Spencer Reid.
“Hit the showers.” She teases. “You stink.”
Spencer nods furiously, “Y-yeah, of course. Thank you, again, SSA—“
“Just call me (Y/N).”
“T-thank you, (Y/N).” He smiles, scurrying out of the gym and into the hallway as giddy as ever.
(Y/N) knows she can’t pursue this— at least, not right now. She’ll give it a few years to let him settle in the FBI (his acceptance is inevitable) if she can be patient for that long. All she knows is that eventually, she wants the awkwardly adorable boy to be hers— and she wants to be his.
i’m so proud of this fic but sry i got carried away talking about wrestling i love it sm
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#sub!spencer#criminal minds fanfiction#dr reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid masterlist#baby!spencer#bau
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Can I request for a fluffy friends to lovers fic with Venti and a human gn reader? They’re good friends (but the reader doesn’t know his real identity) and when reader brings up their desire to see a wind wisp in real life Venti decides to surprise them by transforming into his true form and paying them a visit. The reader finds this mysterious little wind wisp at their doorstep and gets excited, takes care of it, and while feeding it apple slices starts talking about how their good friend Venti would love to see them - but oh, he’s less of a friend and more of a crush who I’ve loved for a long time… wait, where did the wisp go? Wait, Venti?! When did you get here?!
featuring: venti x gn!reader
warnings: none
published: june 30, 2021
form: imagine
a/n: thank you for sending this in—i need more venti requests, he’s my baby <3
you could tell that the drink was beginning to hit you hard when you felt your muscles go slack. it was your fourth pint of the night, and although you thought that you could hold your drink fairly well, you could never hold a candle to your bard friend’s seemingly bottomless appetite for wine. venti was on his seventh--or was it eighth?--mug of cider for the night, and was still fairly unfazed, if you consider his usual bumbling amiability to be his default. after a long day of working and whatever it was that venti did in the daytime, you two had decided to meet up at the angel’s share that evening for a drinking night between friends, and to catch up on life and whatever else goes on in the city of mondstadt.
the night had begun with a mug per person, as you and venti caught up with each other. due to your duties at home, and his rather inconstant job as a traveling musician, it was oftentimes difficult for you and the bard to stay in touch--responsibilities always seemed to get in the way. so, naturally, you took advantage of every opportunity you could get to see venti, one-on-one, and simply talk. after knowing him for quite a while, he really was a delight to talk to, always full of witty riddles and forever knowing the right thing to say at the right time. venti really was quite remarkable.
he also had the unique talent of contagious alcoholism; after having spent an hour or so drinking and chatting with him, you unwittingly started drinking more than your usual limit, absolutely carried away with whatever small conversation venti had you engaged with at the moment. the conversation had somehow strayed into the topic of myths and legends of mondstadt. venti was speaking of some strange conspiracies surrounding the origin of the anemo hypostasis up in the mountains, and as the alcohol began to break down your proper judgement, you began to go on and on about how you, as a child, dreamed of seeing an elusive wind wisp.
you had heard stories about the boy revolutionary, armed with his bow and his words, accompanied by a little white wind wisp, leading mondstadt’s journey to freedom. the story had enchanted you when you were young, and clearly you still had not given up hope of meeting a similar wind wisp. perhaps it would bring you the same joy and power to change your life for the better, just like it did for the hero of old mondstadt.
venti listened to your reminiscing closely, looking at you with a quizzical look of interest. your intoxicated state made it so that you didn’t notice the look on his face as if he was plotting something, but, to be fair, venti’s poker face was notable for its impregnability. the night ended with him having to walk you home, propping your arm over his shoulders so that you wouldn’t trip and fall on the cobblestone streets. the last thing you remembered was him tucking you into bed, and singing you one of his funny little songs.
the next morning, you woke with a pounding headache and the bright noon sun peeking through your shutters. archons, was it so late already? you pulled yourself out of bed, trying not to stumble, distracted by the pounding in your head. you had a long list of things to do today that you had to complete, and you severely regretted drinking so much and so late with that damned bard last night (though you could never really hate him--he was too adorable).
slipping on whatever clothing closest to your bed and sluggishly following through with your daily morning routine, you got ready to head out the door to water the carrots and potatoes in your backyard. as you pulled open the door, prepared to step out and face the piercing daylight, you caught yourself as you almost stepped on the little figure at your doorstep. lying there on its side, was a wind wisp. yes, just like the ones you had read about all your childhood and you had mused about endlessly last night. it had its little eyes shut, sleeping probably, its delicate little form curled up on the step.
you were bewildered, partially at the coincidence of it all, but mostly by the rarity of what had occurred before your eyes. a wind wisp, something most people never even saw once in their lifetimes, suddenly showing up right at your doorstep after you had talked about your desire to meet one just the night before. crouching down, you scooped up its little body in your hands. the little thing began to wake, hands rubbing its eyes sleepily, as it made a chirping noise. it was ridiculously adorable.
“hey there, little guy”, you cooed. “what are you doing here?”
as it began to regain consciousness, the wisp floated up off your hands, small gusts of air emitting from its form, and it flew up to nuzzle against your face. it felt like a warm breeze brushing against your cheek, and you heard it chirping in your ear.
you giggled. “well aren’t you the cutest little thing!” you raised your hand to pet it, and it made a little gurgling noise, leaning into your touch. something about its mannerisms felt so familiar, almost like something you had known in a past life perhaps, but you couldn’t put a finger on it. its presence was just endlessly comforting, even though you had only known it for a few minutes.
reaching into your pantry, you pulled out some apples you had picked the day before, and cut it into small slices. the wisp watched you eagerly as you went about your business, like it could understand everything you did. holding up a thin slice to the wisp, a little hole in its void of a face opened up and enveloped the slice whole. a little shocked but certainly entertained, you gave it an approving head pat.
as the day went on, the little wisp continued to follow you throughout mondstadt as you ran your errands. you went outside, behind your house, to take care of the crops you were growing. as you watered your plants, the little wisp helped you disperse the water more efficiently, blowing a gentle wind from your watering can so that you didn’t have to walk as far to water the faraway plants. you go to pick some apples and sunsettias nearby, and the little fellow would fly up to the hard-to-reach fruits and throw himself against them to knock them loose from the branches, right where you could catch them. you worried a little bit whether he was hurting himself by doing so, but he appeared to be pleased just to assist you, and he certainly was not ashamed to take a few bites from the fruits of your shared labor at the end of the day.
considering how efficiently your errands were completed today, of course all thanks to the helper you acquired that morning, you thought it would be nice to use the time you had in the late afternoon to take the wisp out for a picnic dinner at windrise to show your appreciation. gathering some of the fruit the both of you had collected, and some sandwiches you made, you placed it all in a little wicker basket and set off for the great tree with your companion upon your shoulder.
upon arriving, you laid down a gingham blanket in the shade of the great tree of windrise, just a moments away from the ancient statue of barbatos. you felt like a child again, remembering the summers of carefree exploration, tunneling through the thickets in the forest, or catching frogs by the creek, or tumbling down the hills by the sea. and now, a wisp joined you, taking you back to the memories of those years, when life was much simpler.
you couldn’t help but to think of venti, the bard, the friend, who had brought you such comfort through difficult times, whose music, like the warm touch of the wisp, reminded you of home and the beauty that life could bring. your companion was now feasting comedically fast on the food you had brought along, swallowing up fruits whole, and chewing for several moments before helping itself to another. you chuckled and gave it a pat. “greedy little fellow, aren’t you?” you couldnt help but to think venti would have loved to meet the wind wisp, considering his love for nature and all sorts of fauna, and considering the small resemblance between himself and the creature.
“stick around for a bit and i might introduce you to my friend, the bard”, you told it, not really caring that it probably couldn’t understand you. “im actually not sure that we are friends, to be honest. these days we rarely see each other but...” you trailed off, distracted by the sound of the breeze through the branches. the wisp stopped eating and watched you intently. “well”, you began. “i sometimes find myself wishing him and i were more than friends. maybe not lovers, not right away but... i just know that dearly. i cannot be sure that he feels the same, but that is of no matter.” you pat the wisp’s little head again. “if i can make him happy, even just as friends, that is enough for me.”
out of nowhere, a strong wind blew past you, knocking over your wicker basket and sending it flying several feet away. agitated, you scrambled up to chase after it, finally grasping it before it could fly too far. you were perplexed—where in the world could such a strong wind have come from? the sky was clear, and there were no clouds obstructing the setting sun. how odd, you thought to yourself.
you turned around to bring the basket back to your sitting spot, but to your surprise, the wisp was gone. no, in its place was now your bard friend, venti, sitting there on the blanket like he had been there all along. how in the world did he get here without you noticing, and where in the world did the wisp go off to? you hurried over to venti, questioning, “since when did you get here?”
the bard smirked, and fiddled with his lyre that you just noticed he had brought along with him. he had that look on his face again, the one he wore whenever he had some sort of plot in mind. “whatever do you mean, [y/n]?”, he replied amusedly. “i’ve been here all along.”
#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#genshin impact fanfiction#genshin x reader#venti#venti x reader#venti headcanons#venti imagines#venti fanfic#venti x y/n#venti x you#fluff#venti fluff
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