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lovemesomeeddiemunson · 2 years ago

Text

Pocket Dice

Summary: You teach Steve to play D&D. In return he takes it upon himself to set you up with a certain Dungeon Master.

F! Reader Insert, 4995 Words

Warning: Minor ST spoilers ahead. Food mentions. (Underage) drinking. Drug use. (It’s only marijuana dad!) Hinted at sexual situations. Reader is written as wearing red lipstick and dresses very 80s punk. Reader also listens to heavy metal in this and plays D&D because you’re cool peoples’. Takes place some time after Volume 5. (I took the liberty of deciding that Eddie lives and the world gets saved, and I offer no apologies for that.)

Authors Note: This is the third Eddie fic I started writing in recent days - thought I’d share since it hasn’t taken on a life of its own like the other two. No sequel planned/in the works, but never say never. Also, I am always looking for inspo, so I will absolutely take requests for one-shots, blurbs, and head canons. If you don’t have an idea and just wanna chat, that’s cool too! I promise I won't bite.

After defeating evil a final time, after closing the portals, after reversing the poisoning of the town, Steve should have been happy to retire from saving the world.

He should have been grateful for the monotony life had become filled with - that there wasn’t a new threat on the horizon. But grateful was not what Steve was feeling.

The truth was, Steve was unnerved.

Not only was there nothing for him to do during peacetime, but in addition to that, his brothers and sisters in arms started to slip away, keeping in touch less and less.

Nancy had put the final nail in the coffin when it came to them after she graduated, and moved away with Johnathan.

He still worked at the video store with Robin - but she had gotten a girlfriend who adored her, and while Steve was happy for her, she was less and less available for their old shenanigans.

There were the kids of course, but while Steve had a hard time pinning them down, they religiously met up with Eddie every Sunday. Now that he too had finally graduated, they played D&D outside of their high school Hellfire club.

Which, frankly, Steve had never understood…but now that his days were mostly empty, his friends were scattered, and he hadn’t had any heroic moments in ages, it was no wonder he ended up where he did.

In a bookstore one town over, Steve spends way too much time meticulously combing through covers.

So much so that the cute girl working behind the counter - you - takes pity on him.

“Do you need help with anything?” You ask sweetly, in a tone Steve knows well to be a fake customer service voice.

“Sorry I - I don’t know where to start. Were you guys trying to close?” He admitted, sounding pitiful.

“Ten minutes ago.” You chuckle lightly, causing Steve to flush.

Running a finger along the many spines before them, you tease. “I’ve locked us both in, so you might want to make a decision soon, before we starve to death.”

“Sorry!” He says again, hands heavy with the weight of so many books. “I just, really don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“So you mentioned.” You offer him a warm smile. “Let’s see if I can help…uh, what’s your name?”

“Steve.” He answers.

“Steve. I’m Y/N, at your service. Are you looking to get a gift for someone?” You ask helpfully.

“No I…It’s for me. I was hoping to learn how to play.” He flushed when he admitted it.

“And you’ve never played before?” You ask, non-judgmentally.

He shakes his head. “I have…a passable vocabulary.” Never mind that it stemmed from Dustin naming every evil thing they’d encountered over the last five years as some sort of game-inspired creature.

“Oh.” You understand, taking the several books from his hands. Clicking your tongue, tossing several to the side. “No…no…no…yes…no.”

You present him with a much more reasonable pile. “Start with these. Everything else will just overwhelm you.”

“Are you sure?” He asks tentatively. You blink at him - then reach in your pocket to produce a handful of colorful, multi-sided dice.

“Pretty sure.” You tell him, rattling the dice in your hands for emphasis.

Steve’s jaw is slack at that, and he blurts out. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You readily agree as he follows you to the register where you ring him up.

“Anything else?” You ask, and Steve chuckles a little. “No, but thank you. I was really close to calling it.”

“No need to thank me. It’s a cool game, I wish more people would give it a chance.” You smile when you hand him the receipt, letting him out of the store and locking up again after him.

And that might have been the end of it - but you were so nice to him the first time that once a week passes Steve is back at the bookstore, around the same time, specifically hoping you’ll be there.

When you were - glancing up at the bell announcing his entrance - he smiled sheepishly at you. “So, I have some questions.”

You laugh, not minding the intrusion. “Hit me with em.’”

And then you spend the better part of a half hour going over intricacies of Dungeons and Dragons with him, endlessly patient, even excited for him when he grasps a concept.

“You know,” you say finally, thoughtfully. “I think that your best teacher at this point is probably going to be…playing an actual game.”

“I don’t know if my friends will be as merciful as you’ve been.” He laughs, knowing he’s not ready. There’s too much to learn.

You shrug, “No, but mine just might be.” Then you grab a discarded receipt from the counter, flipping it over and scribbling some information on it.

“Meet me at this address tomorrow, around 4…if you’re up for it. I’ll set you up.” You tell him, and then lead him out the way you had previously, locking up after him without another word.

Steve can’t believe his luck. The next day he arrives at the quaint little maroon house right on time, climbing the steps and knocking on the front door.

It opens moments later, you offering him a warm greeting before letting him inside.

“Hey Steve,” You smile with bright red lips, and Steve is surprised to see how you dress when you’re not in the hideous bookstore khakis and polo shirt.

Yellow plaid pants, and a crop top that looks homemade. Casual, cool. Not what he’d expected from a bookstore clerk who played D&D, but here they were.

You offer Steve a drink before leading him to a fold up table that you’d set up in your large living room.

It’s scattered with supplies already, and over the next hour or two, you and Steve put a lot of work into what he worries isn’t enough to show for it.

Still you’re sweet as always though, explaining to him that the creation of his character is an essential part of the game.

He’s studying the character sheet that the two of you have concocted when you eventually go to greet your friends, all of them arriving within a few minutes of 6pm.

Steve gets the distinct impression that he’s not the first wayward soul you’ve collected. By the time they’ve all joined you two it’s clear that they are, each of them, around you guys’ age, arguably nerdy in a variety of ways, and curious about Steve.

“We’re going to show Steve the ropes.” You tell them, and give the instructions for them to make nice while you order everyone pizza.

Then you take Steve by surprise once again, by sitting at the table’s head and assuming the role of Dungeon Master.

You make the group introduce themselves and their characters for Steve’s benefit, and then captivate everyone with your storytelling.

It’s incredible - Steve is wrapped up in it, having a blast though the actual outcome of the game turns out pretty rough.

Steve doesn’t survive it - but you were right about your friends. They carry his weight, offering tips and using their hard earned resources to keep reviving him as much as possible.

By the end though, his level 1 human paladin is slain. The quest continues on as he listens in fascination.

And when the night is over - the pizza consumed, arguments had, he wasn’t the only casualty.

Several of your friends grumble in good nature when you wrap things up with a small flourishing bow.

“That…was awesome.” Steve breathes, when you finally ask him what he thinks.

Tilting your head back, you laugh. “Glad you think so. Next time I won’t take it so easy on you.”

“Easy?” Steve blurts, your friends all laughing. “Yes, Steve,” they explain - “That was her taking it easy.”

They share tales of the ways you’ve murdered them - sadistically, frequently, and Steve can’t help but to look forward to next time.

He tells you as much when he helps you clean up, and you promise that he’s welcome as much as he wants.

So he keeps coming, keeps playing, keeps learning from you and your friends.

Eventually, Steve is what you generously call decent - and you give him your blessing to recuse himself from what you have affectionately dubbed your “merry band of misfits.”

“You’re ready.” You promise him.

The guys nod in agreement, and Steve swallows. “Do you think uh, I can come back sometimes? Not necessarily every week but uh, you guys are cool. I like hanging out with you all. You’ve taught me a lot.”

“Brave paladin, we would quest with you anytime.” One of the guys salutes him. Steve chuckles.

That night when everyone has cleared out, Steve lingers in order to help put things away, the way he’s done since the first game. While he does so, he’s overwhelmed with gratitude.

You had really been kind to him since you’d met - had taken him under your wing without question, introduced him to something he never realized could be so fun and on top of that, gave him a way back into his friend’s lives.

He wasn’t sure how to repay you.

At least, not until you put a tape in your cassette player, and Steve is suddenly struck with the cords of a familiar song.

It’s a song he’d first heard in The Upside Down, signaling to him that it was time to kill Vecna.

“Master of Puppets?” He asks you.

Without hesitation, your eyes light up. “Hell yeah. I love Metallica.” You give a shake of your head. “Surprised you know it though.” You tease him.

“Yeah I uh…I have this friend. Plays a really…really sick rendition of it. Totally metal.” He says, lost in thought.

“That’s so cool.” You admit, clearing empty pizza boxes away.

You’ve not given it much more consideration, but for Steve though, the wheels are turning. He has an idea. One that, if executed properly, he thinks will be the perfect way to repay you.

The perfect opportunity presents itself with the coming week - his parents are on some kind of retreat that they go on every year that their marriage doesn’t crash and burn.

It’s the perfect time to host - so he puts the word out to all his friends. Party at his place.

Everyone quickly agrees to make it, and when Steve extends the invitation to you, you also decide sure - why not.

It’s not a night playing D&D but Steve promises he’s the king of parties.

When the kids are splashing around in his pool - trying to be sneaky about drinking his beer - Steve feels really confident in his plan and his abilities.

“Who are you waiting for?” Robin asks as she drops down into a lawn chair, drink in hand.

“What?” Steve feigned innocence.

“You keep checking the door.” She says, with a soft hum. “And at last headcount we’re all here. Unless…Nance…Is it - is it Nance? Did you invite Nance?” She whispers.

Steve rolls his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I doubt Nancy, and Johnathan would make an appearance from their honeymoon to come to one of my parties.”

Robin snorts. “Well, what is it then? Because you’re not subtle.”

“I did invite my new friend.” Steve explains, as nonchalantly as he’s able.

“What’s this now?” Dustin asks, sloshing around in the water with his ears perked up under his curly hair. “You made a new friend?”

“I did.” Steve shrugs.

Robin eyes his face. “Oh my gosh, it’s a girl. Steve has a girlfriend.”

Dustin ooh’s as some of the other kids float over to the commotion, making cute noises.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Alright everybody calm down, it is a girl, and she is a friend. She is not my girlfriend.”

“Do you want her to be?” Eleven teases.

“No.” He grits out.

“I totally don’t believe you.” Lucas laughs.

“It’s a classic Steve move - invite the girl to a pool party and ply her with cheap beer.” Robin jokes.

“That’s not what this is.” He sighs.

“Really Steve, look at the facts and tell us you’re not trying to date her.” Mike says, like some kind of expert.

Steve sighs in deep exasperation, rubbing a hand over his face. He glanced around abruptly, making sure that a particular party guest isn’t around to hear what he’s about to say.

As it is, it seems like he’s gone inside - likely rolling up for the older kids for later. “I’m not trying to date her! I am trying to set her up with Eddie.”

“Eddie?” Dustin questions, astounded.

“Yes, Eddie. Dungeon master, heavy metal playing, mechanically inclined, pain-in-my-ass, Eddie.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Oh…” everyone seems blown away. None of them more than Steve himself had been.

“…Hello?” A familiar voice calls out and Steve panics, scrambling to his feet and wondering if you’d caught any of that.

Based on your expression he doesn’t think so. Still, he’s extra cautious when he takes the large bottle of tequila from you. “Hey,” Steve addresses, adding lamely. “You made it!”

“Well someone told me that you’re the king of parties.” You tease.

Steve grins, then gestures weakly to the group in front of you two. “These are uh, these are my friends.” Steve points each one out, naming them.

You turn to the pool, younger kids clustered in and around it, and you wave. A flurry of greetings follows you.

They all take you in - blood red lipstick, black fishnets peaking out beneath high waisted shorts, a low cut Iron Maiden shirt tied into a knot at the bottom to show just the smallest bit of your midriff - and they could see where Steve might have thought of Eddie.

Speaking of, in that moment the side door to Steve’s house opens and Eddie steps out of it, already lighting the cigarette perched between his lips before he freezes mid-step.

“Ah, I uh, did not realize we had company.” He grins cheekily.

Steve steps forward, gesturing, “Y/N, this is Eddie. Eddie - Y/N.” He introduces, unable to contain the wide grin at the way Eddie’s eyes hone in on the skeleton on your shirt that he knows all too well.

“Oh, yeah.” You laugh lightly, a tad embarrassed under his gaze. “King Steve here neglected to mention he had a pool.” Nudging Steve harshly at the accusation. “Lucky for you I do accept apologies in the form of a stiff drink.”

“Yes ma’am.” Steve salutes, “Eddie, keep her company will ya? I’m going to uh, go get some ice.”

“I’ll go with you.” Robin adds helpfully, following Steve into the house. Some of the kids, wet and slippery, follow them in, all asking what the plan is.

“I’m making this up as I go.” Steve admits. “I mean, I’ve never asked a girl out for another person!”

“Well we need to do something, did you see her shirt!” Erica points out.

Steve nods, “Trust me kid that’s the tip of the iceberg. She and him are made for each other, you have no idea.”

“Where did you find her anyways?” Dustin asks.

“She works at this book store...it’s not important.” Steve changes the subject. “If no one has any bright ideas, we ought to get back out there before we’re missed.”

Uttered agreements hit Steve’s ears as the group staggered their return. “Here ya go.” Steve hands you the mixed drink, watching you sip it gratefully. “Thanks.” You tell him brightly.

You’re sitting in a lawn chair, Eddie occupying another on your other side, still smoking that cigarette despite the dopey grin on his face.

Drink in hand, you turn back to him and gesture for him to continue. “You were saying?” Eyes all for him, so Eddie launches animatedly into whatever conversation you’d been having before Steve interrupted.

Steve takes it to mean that maybe the pair of you won’t need his help after all, and he lets the party commence, the kids pouring over the edge into the pool as you two talk.

He is briefly distracted by his mission by an overwhelming sense of contentment, flooding him with every call and squeal of joy his younger friends let out.

When the hour grows late, he rounds them up - making sure that they get home safe.

With all the four oldest of the group remaining, Eddie produces a small baggie of pre-rolled blunts.

“S’okay if it’s not your thing.” He tells you, handing off to Robin with the lighter.

You roll your eyes lightly in response, scoffing, “Please.”

Then as if to prove it, after Robin takes the first hit you reach out and grasp her wrist gently, guiding her hand that’s got the blunt clasped between two fingers to bring it to your lips.

You inhale deeply before releasing your hold on the other woman, the smoke billowing from your lips as she lowers her hand.

“Hot.” Robin’s the one who says it, to which you blow her a kiss. Robin then passes to Eddie, who inhales shakily, eyes on you the whole time.

Steve decides to give him until the end of the night, at most.

As the four of you pass the blunt around more, your lipstick stains it, and no one seems to mind. You’re growing on the whole group, and Steve especially sees you slotting in easily past tonight.

As it is while you all smoke, you ask about the kids who’d gone - how they all knew each other, if they were related.

Eddie just laughs and tells you that the girl with the shaved head was a science experiment, and that she has superpowers that helped them all save the world more than once.

You laugh at that, thinking he’s absolutely gone, but Robin and Steve smile knowingly. Their shared smiles grow when Robin alerts Steve subtly to the new development of the night, Steve having caught it as well.

Eddie and you had gotten closer at some point, now sharing a chair, his knee touching yours, the smoke pouring from his mouth crowding your airspace.

Eddie also keeps whispering in your ear, things that make you giggle, leaning back into him.

Then you yawn suddenly, sadly admitting, “Guess I’d better head home before I’m too messed up to drive.”

“One could argue that you reached that limit two drinks ago.” Robin points out, gesturing to the scene of you practically splayed across Eddie’s lap.

At that you flushed, glancing back at Eddie nervously, apologetic, and Steve nudged Robin roughly for undermining his mission.

“Oops,” you breathed. “Sorry Eddie. I get kinda touchy when I drink.”

“I’m not complaining.” It's flirtatious, but there’s an edge of seriousness to it as well. A touch of nerves. You hide your smile behind the red solo cup.

“So, I just meant like…stay.” Robin admits. “I’m sure Steve can spare a couch.”

“I absolutely can. Couches all around, for all my friends.” He holds a drink up to toast to that, inquiring “What do you say?”

“Alright, why not?” You laugh. “Can’t promise that I’ll be that much fun anymore though, I get sleepy after smoking.” Your head lolls to the side to emphasize that point, not minding when it makes contact with Eddie’s shoulder that’s in the path of the movement.

Touchy, check.

Sleepy, check.

“I’m feeling better and better about our decision not to let you drive home.” Steve snickers.

Eddie juts his chin out toward the pool. “You should take a dip. Wake you right up.”

“Um, no.” You chuckle, gesturing to the character on your chest. “Eddie doesn’t swim.”

“It’s called, Eddie?” Robin’s eyes bug out as she nods and laughs. At the same time their Eddie leans in and whispers something suggestive, earning a breathless laugh and elbow to his ribs.

Then you disentangle from the man, scrambling to your feet, “Bathroom?” You ask Steve.

“Downstairs just past the kitchen.” He lets you know, and you thank him, headed inside.

Steve and Robin immediately turn their attention to Eddie once you’re out of sight.

“What? Do I have something in my hair?” He asks in a manner that’s much too innocent.

“Dude,” Steve sighs, while Robin grumbles how men are clueless.

“What?” Eddie asks again, a much more sharp sounding whine.

“You know what - she likes you, and you clearly like her. Ask her out.” Robin insists.

“Since when do you two care about my love life?” Eddie deflects, a tad embarrassed at how obvious he had been.

“Since your soulmate was literally hand delivered by Steve earlier this evening.” Robin snarks.

“Soulmate?” Eddie laughs. “Aw man, having a girlfriend has totally made you soft, Buckley.”

“Tell you what.” Steve suggests, not letting him weasel his way out of it with that subtle change of subject. “I’ll make you a little wager. If I win, you accept that that’s your soulmate in there, and you do something about it. Ask her out…If I lose, it's the dealer's choice.”

Eddie purses his lips as he thinks about it, thinks about giving Steve a buzz cut but also about what he has to lose…the answer to which, is nothing.

Sure he might have been cynical about soulmates, but he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been toying around with the idea of asking you out already. Might have even done it already were it not for his present company.

“So, what is the wager exactly?” Eddie asks slowly.

“Simple. I’m going to see if I can accurately guess the contents of Y/N’s pockets.” Steve grins.

Eddie laughs. “That’s random as hell.”

“So?” Steve presses.

“You’ve got a deal.” He shrugs.

When you return a few minutes later, sitting in a new chair and making Eddie pout, Steve puts his plan into action.

“Hey, Y/N?” He asks.

“Hm?” You question around a sip of your drink.

“Can I see your dice?” He presses, hiding his smile.

“Dice?” You sound a tad confused, but mostly amused. Eddie watches with rapt fascination.

“Yeah I’m uh…at a crossroads.” Steve hints, holding his hand out to you expectantly.

You look at him for an extended period, before reaching into your pocket and producing the small colorful handful that Steve knew you had on you at all times.

Robin and Steve both wished that they had Johnathan’s camera in order to capture the expression on Eddie’s face - slack jaw and rounded eyes - as he takes in the unmistakable shapes in your palms.

Steve plucks the D20 from your hands, rolling it, knowing it won’t matter what it lands on. Still, it comes out high.

“I think that that’s a hit, wouldn’t you say Eddie?” He teases the older man.

Eddie still hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. “You just - you just carry those around with you?”

“Sure.” You let out a small nervous laugh. “It’s incredibly lame, I know.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Not lame. Cool. Very cool.” Then Eddie’s head snaps up to Steve and Robin with a glare. “Didn’t you guys just say you were going to…get the couches ready or something?”

They scramble up in understanding, nodding, leaving the two alone.

You are utterly confused, more so when Eddie moves off of his chair, kneeling in front of you now that you’re alone.

“Do you, uh, do you think I might be able to take you out sometime?” He rubs the back of his neck nervously, a sweet grin splitting his face.

You blink in surprise “Ye-uh-yes.” Nodding enthusiastically. “…Totally.” You want to cringe at how awkward you are.

Eddie beams at you despite that. “Awesome.”

Steve and Robin, who are peering through the shades that cover Steve’s windows, cheer and celebrate when they see Eddie lean down and plant a kiss right on your red lips.

When you two eventually join them inside, you both take up residence on the pull out couch together, Steve and Robin sleeping upstairs.

And if in the middle of the night, Steve hears the springs of that shitty mattress squeaking, accompanied by a plethora of other muted sounds, he chooses to ignore it for his friend’s sake.

It had, after all, turned out better than he could have imagined.

In the coming days and weeks, he hears little snippets from everyone in the gang, which has in fact grown now to include you.

The updates make Steve smile, especially the little glimpses into your developing relationship with the metal head who is absolutely smitten with you.

You two are inseparable - except for when you work and the nights where you held your respective D&D campaigns.

It’s just before one of those when the kids file into the video store, Steve taking notice of them immediately.

Despite how busy it is, being Saturday, he can’t help but notice that something seems off. And that seems more important than stocking chick flicks on shelves.

“Hey kids, why the long faces?” Steve asks.

“Mike’s parents are redoing the basement.” Will pouts, to which Steve immediately nods in understanding.

They’d been using Wheeler’s basement to host their D&D games with Eddie, since Sundays between church and football there wasn’t much chance of his parents bothering them.

Now, it seems like they needed a place to play. And parents were the recurring issue at their every option.

Steve didn’t have that problem.

“Why not use my house?” Steve suggests, interrupting their batting around of ideas.

The kids' faces light up. “Really?”

This is it, Steve thinks. He nods, telling them “Sure!” Before clearing his throat nervously. “Could I…could I play?”

Several surprised expressions greet him. “You want to play D&D?”

“Yeah.” Steve grins a little. “Why not?”

They, of course, allow it. So that’s how they all end up on a Sunday night at Steve’s house.

Eddie had sauntered in early to set the whole thing up, trying to pry into Steve’s sudden interest, to no avail, only relenting once the kids showed up and they actually got started.

They’re all surprised when Steve brandishes a fully flushed out character. More so by his bold strokes and luck with the dice.

The game is in full swing when the sound of your car pulling up alerts everyone to your presence.

You didn’t usually come see their game - but you knew it was Steve’s first with them, and you’d promised you wouldn’t miss it.

Eddie is ecstatic to have you there, his whole face lighting up as he rushes over to open your door for you.

“Hi princess.” He purrs, giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

“Eddie,” you protest the nickname with a flush. He loves to watch you squirm, leading you over to his throne. It wasn’t the same one from years ago in hellfire - this one didn’t belong to the school, but had been gifted to him as a graduation present.

The kids had hoped it would inspire him to host the game even without the club - and it had definitely helped. Now it went wherever the game did. Most recently, Eddie had saved it from whatever decorating atrocity was taking place at the Wheeler’s.

Eddie settles into it now, pulling you happily into his lap.

“Confronting deadly peril, Steve?” You ask curiously, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“…with surprising success.” Eddie admits at Steve’s modest shrug.

You give Steve a wide grin. “Is that right?” In answer, he winks at you. Eddie’s hands instinctively tighten on your waist, though he knows there’s no malice behind the action.

You wave a hand indicating for them to proceed. They don’t need much more prodding to launch back into it, Eddie leading them on a perilous journey that has him gripping your hips firmly to stop your wriggling in his lap.

“Sweetheart if you don’t cut that out…” he warns in a low voice - a voice much more familiar than the one he uses to narrate - as the party discusses their next move.

You grin sheepishly at him, and he peppers little kisses to your neck, with fevered promises of…later.

Your giggling is interrupted as Steve leads a charge against Eddie, giving the dungeon master a run for his money.

It’s quick - efficient - ruthless. He makes you proud. Eddie gives him everything he has in return, but Steve’s meticulous rolling leaves him with the upper hand. Eddie turns over the miniature of the villain this week, admitting defeat.

The party cheers - Dustin shaking Steve vigorously and Mike and Lucas slapping his back while Erica paraded around in victory.

Eddie doesn’t mind their beating his campaign, and he never has. But still, here now with the promise of you, all riled up before they’d concluded, he’s more than happy to be finished, eager to clear out of there.

He starts packing things up, and you help him, fondness in your eyes when you see the adoration the younger kids show for Steve.

Your actions make him think. “I don’t suppose…” Eddie draws the words out slowly. “That you would have anything to do with…that.” He nods at Steve’s character sheet he’d left on the table.

“I’m afraid so.” You give a faux sigh before explaining with a slight edge of pride. “Taught him everything he knows.”

You beam at Eddie, and he’s suddenly, if possible, more eager, to get you to himself.

An impressed whistle left his lips. “You have no idea the kind of monster you created, my love.”

You laugh at that as the kids overheard, understanding washing over them, Erica being the one to shriek. “I knew he couldn’t be that good!”

“Oh I have…some semblance of an idea.” You bat your lashes at him.

Eddie is fucking enamored with you. He pulls you in and kisses you deeply, he can’t help himself.

“Not in front of the children you two!” Steve protests, throwing a pillow from his couch at you, thinking that it was him who created the monster.

And he couldn’t have been happier about it.

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potatoes-is-are-food · 4 years ago

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Hi, 🖐 I was wondering if I may request a fic or head cannon, which ever you prefer, of some somnophilia Shigaraki. He drugs reader cause he has it bad for her and he thinks that's the only way he can have her. Then he's "enjoying" her sleeping form and she wakes up and she's into him, maybe she even says something like took you long enough. Please. I really enjoy your writing, the period sex is just...🥴

Reader came out a little more yandere-ish than I usually go for but that’s life ig

Also feel free to request more period sex I literally cannot get enough of shiggy being gross and tryna make his poor lil gf uncomfortable <3

| NSFW, somno & drugging (obviously), a teensy slight bit of angst but it’s all happy in the end

You’d liked him since you first spoke to him. You’d come with Himiko to join the league, being friends with her long enough you more or less let her drag you around on a daily basis. You’d asked her to just turn back, you wouldn’t be an asset even if you did agree with what they were trying to do, but she said there had to be something you could do to help and tugged you into the bar. He’d asked for your name and said you were useless to the cause but you still felt blood rising to your cheeks whenever he set those piercing red eyes on you.

When you’d been accepted on the condition you’d help and do whatever he told you, you’d kept to yourself, only interacting with your friend and occasionally Magne. Your quirk wasn’t really suited to combat but you helped around the hideout, working on preparations and anything that needed to be done in public since no one knew your face. You did whatever Shigaraki told you to, agreeing before he was done speaking and scurrying off before he could tell how flustered he made you.

Over the next several months you actually got to talk to him more and before you knew it you were head over heels for him. You liked his ideas, the way he articulated them, even the fucking hands all over his body made hearts shine in your eyes and wetness pool between your legs. Then weird stuff started happening.

You’d wake up feeling hungover despite not drinking, seemingly having intense wet dreams that somehow left your throat raw and stains covering your sheets every night. You nearly thought you’d pissed yourself there was so much of it. After the first week you got suspicious, but ultimately chalked it up to stress, despite how little sense that made.

Shigaraki didn’t know how to process his feelings. When Himiko had shoved you in front of him he’d had to be aloof, mean even, to stop himself from coming across like some loser with a huge crush. He couldn’t even talk to you at first, but every time you came around you didn’t act scared of him, just nervous. And then you started talking to him and he just liked you more.

He swears it was an accident the first time. You’d had too much to drink one of your first nights at the hideout and he helped you to bed. When you were sprawled out, disheveled on your bed he couldn’t stop himself. He was just going to kiss you once and leave, but you were so soft, and the light sigh that passed your lips made him come back for more. That night he’d held and kissed you for hours, but left before he went too far.

The second time it happened, it wasn’t an accident. He craved the warmth from your skin and the sweet taste of your lips, so he drugged you; watched you sip your one and only drink of the night and swept you off to bed like a kind leader. And at first he was content just to kiss you and lie beside you.

After a month, he snapped. The feel of your skin was too much temptation, so he slipped you an extra strong dose and got off from shoving his dick down your throat while you slept. The next morning he couldn’t look at you and left the second you mentioned a sore throat and started coughing. Since then he couldn’t stop; he jerked off over your face, rubbed his shaft against your skin, and used you in every way he could think of without fully violating you.

Tonight he’d decided he couldn’t stop himself and it would be better to indulge himself if it was inevitable anyway; it wasn’t like you’d ever have to know.

You sat beside him, nursing the drink he’d drugged for several hours while you chatted. You only got one third of the way through before your words became a little slurred, and unlike normal when you’d just down the rest and go to bed, you left it unfinished. He panicked slightly for a moment until he noticed you still seemed tired enough that he could do what he wanted, then he helped you to bed. He felt bad; you clearly trusted him, but he couldn’t stop himself. He’d waited long enough.

When he was sure you were out, he started stripping you, letting his eyes soak up all the naked flesh he’d let you keep secret until now. He’d even bought gloves that covered his last two fingers just for this; pulling them on had him salivating with anticipation.

He crawled over your limp body, gently grazing his fingers along your soft skin. His lips pressed against your forehead, then down your face and jaw until he latched onto your neck, intending to leave just a few hickeys where you weren’t likely to see. As a reward for how patient he’d been. You moaned softly, making him pull away with a pop, worried you were waking. You didn’t stir, though, and he continued.

He spread your legs, sucking drool back into his mouth at the sight of your slightly damp folds right in front of him. Tentatively, he pressed a kiss to your clit, watching your face for any sign of you waking. He quickly lost himself as he delved in, lapping up your fluids like your cunt was the last thing he’d ever taste. Your lashes fluttered, a combination of tolerance to the drug he’d been using and the decreased amount making you more aware much sooner.

“Shigaraki?” you called sleepily, having dreamed he was there before you opened your eyes. He froze, tongue still pressed against you, and looked up just as you saw him. Your face burned, eyes going wide at the sight of your boss dining between your legs. He leaned back, licking and wiping your juices off his face as he blushed and stared at the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper. You shook your head, still in shock but wanting to reassure him more than anything.

“I-I like you!” you blurted out, sitting up and covering yourself with your blanket. You sat in silence, waiting on him to respond, neither of you looking at each other.

“...You do?” he asked after a long pause. You nodded, premature tears stinging your eyes at the rejection you anticipated. The position he’d been in made you think he just wanted to defile you and leave, uninterested in your actual affection. He dropped to his knees before the bed, eyes just as wide as yours and the hint of a smile hovering on his lips.

You inched closer, both unsure as you approached each other mutually for the first time. His face finally hovered in front of yours, just as you’d been dreaming of for months. Your hands gently held his face as you closed the distance, and you felt his breath hitch when your lips finally met. The texture was rough, but his lips were pleasant and his kiss felt better than you’d imagined.

The fact he hadn’t said anything seemed to confirm your suspicion; that he wouldn’t want anything beyond sneaking around with you in the night. You pushed the thought away, intent on savoring him, even if you had to lie to yourself about what would happen when he was done with you. For now, you could pretend he loved you.

He gave your blanket a small tug, and you let him pull it off, leaving you naked as he crawled onto the bed. You were coaxed onto your back as he hovered over you, never breaking the kiss. The hands you’d been staring at for months caressed your skin, his fingers finding their way to your clit and rolling it gently. You gasped into his mouth and he rewarded you with his tongue, letting it play with yours as you ran your hands through his hair.

At a speed you didn’t know he was capable, he undressed himself, eagerly pressing his body back to yours the second it was bare. You wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging tightly to him as he rubbed his shaft along your slit, gathering slick onto his skin. He kissed you again, sighing softly into your mouth when you deepened it on your own. Your tongue shyly intruded into his mouth, just enough to coax his into tangling with it.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, one moment groping at your breasts and the next squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise. You gingerly gave him the same treatment, brushing your fingers along his torso where his ribs prominently stuck out against his pale skin and his stomach, rigid with lean muscle that trailed down into a wild mess of white pubic hair. When you touched his cock he stiffened, pulling away to look down at you with a slightly hazy expression.

“You really want to?” he asked softly, eyes wide as they searched yours. You nodded, kissing the corner of his mouth lightly.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time,” you admitted, trembling slightly as his fingers curled under your chin to tilt you into another kiss.

He pressed in, already well lubricated, and buried himself completely in your warmth. He groaned against your lips, both of you panting. As he started to thrust, he gripped your clit in his fingers just a little too roughly, toying with it and reveling in the sounds he could draw from you. Your whimpers were slightly muffled against his mouth, however if anyone got too close to the paper-thin wall of your room they’d easily hear.

You’d been close already when you woke up, and his rough treatment quickly pushed you over the edge and you creamed around him. He groaned loudly at the feeling of your walls contracting, hammering into you faster as he got closer to his peak. The overstimulation made you squirm, still holding him close despite his abuse to your clit as well as all the sensitive places inside.

His cum was warm, shooting out in thick streams against your cervix as he buried himself deep. He thrusted shallowly through his orgasm and went slightly soft inside. The fingers clutching your puffy nub slowed to a stop along with his movements, and you relaxed. Then, you felt him harden again.

It had been too much before, but the feeling of him fucking his load into you and the obscene squelching sounds had you nearly sobbing. You held him tightly, trying to muffle the sounds in his neck as he ravaged you a second time, resuming his ministrations to your clit. He went faster than before, pounding you into the old mattress of your bed and making it squeak loudly. You didn’t have the mental capacity to care anymore.

The orgasm he forced from you made you see stars, your eyes rolled back into your head and you moaned loudly against his skin. This time he followed almost immediately, groaning as he snapped his hips harshly against yours. His cum leaked out around him, pooling under you and creating a sticky mess on your thighs and the sheets.

He rested atop your body, shaking slightly as he panted and came down from his high. Your stomach sank when he moved, no doubt to leave since he’d gotten what he came for. He pulled out with a soft hiss, surveying the mess he’d left with satisfaction.

You were shocked when he flopped over beside you and slung an arm over your stomach, contently nuzzling into your neck and leaving several soft kisses there as he started to drift off. You tentatively pressed your lips to his sweaty forehead and nearly cried when you saw a small smile grace his features in response. Heavy-lidded red eyes met yours, his usually tense face wearing an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“You’ll be my girlfriend, right?” He kissed your cheek, clearly expecting a yes. You stared at him with wide eyes, nodding frantically when you found you couldn’t speak. He sighed happily and closed his eyes, pulling you a little closer. His serene expression made your own eyelids droop, and soon you were unconscious, too, elated and secure in the knowledge that he’d be there when you woke up.

#shigaraki #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki smut #shigaraki fluff #shimura tenko #tenko shimura #bnha shigaraki #somno

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

espn & bdsm

this is part 6 of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills. warnings; smut (18+) in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink miscellaneous; kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count; 12.7k

notes; this is like… a healing fic… for the part before lol. also i did not know what was going to happen next as I was writing. anyway entire smut scene was based off THIS bad boy ur welcome fellas and the Jungkook described here is from in the soop episode 2... cutie... yes every single 1 of those words is a link

lmk what you think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

You're at the nail salon with Doyeon when she first mentions it.

“Have you ever, like,” she pauses, making a vague, swivel gesture with her head. You furrow your brows and she sighs. “Topped him. Have you ever been the one to take control?”

Your nail artist blushes, furiously filing away at your nails until the most perfect stiletto shape stares you back in the face. “Oh. Not really,” you admit, wiggling your wet toe nails around in the styrofoam flip flops issued by the salon. “I mean, sometimes I talk him through it.”

Doyeon snorts. “Babe, talking him through it and being the boss are two completely different things,” she says rather dryly, seemingly unbothered by the fact your two nail techs are being subjected to this more than intimate conversation. But you’ve had weirder talks with Doyeon in public; this doesn’t phase you. “Listen,” she says suddenly, dropping her voice down to a whisper that has you leaning closer to hear her. “You know how I’m a member of that site, right?”

You nod. “Oh yeah— Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide!, right?” She kicks your shin, but the jab is muted by the bottom of her own styrofoam flip flop.

“Yeah, just tell everyone here my credit card number while you’re at it,” she hisses. Her anger fades soon enough. “Well, they’re always sending me all sorts of freebies for my devoted patronage,” she explains. She quirks her lips to the side, throwing one brief glance at the blushing nail artists in front of you. Eventually she seems to come to a conclusion. “Long story short they sent me some cuffs and I’m gonna give you them.”

Your jaw drops. “Woah, really? I don’t know… Don’t those usually run kinda pricey?” you ask tentatively. You’re trying to play it off, act like this isn’t something you want, but the reality is so much worse.

The minute the word cuffs had slipped through her lips it’s like a door opened before your eyes. A big, wooden door with chains strapped across it and a padlock you swore you’d never open.

Somewhere in your mind, you had always convinced yourself handcuffs in bed was something you’d like to have done to you. But, because she was your best friend and by extension a personified version of all your freakiest, often filtered, thoughts, it was like Doyeon had reached straight into your cranium and extracted your most secret fantasy— and that was Jungkook in handcuffs.

Your nail artist pats your hand, motioning you to head over to the drying station. Before you can be separated from Doyeon, you whip around to throw her one desperate look. “I have never wanted anything so bad in my life.”

She cackles loudly, easily garnering the attention of every employee and nail enthusiast in the salon with the evil witch vibes she exudes.

Truth be told, your argument with Jungkook had brought upon a newfound appreciation for him. Weird to say, considering you had wanted to kill the dude when it had originally happened. But the great thing about you and Jungkook was that you were flexible people— both in bed and out. A few long conversations later and you had reached the root of the problem.

And that root was your apparent lack of communicating when something was wrong. It was weird to think that anything could ever be wrong when Jungkook was involved. He was your honeybun, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin. Your sweetie pie, for lack of better wording, and he could do no wrong—

—is what you’d like to say. But if there’s anything you’ve learned in the past year of dating Jungkook, it’s that perfection was a made up belief that revolved around the idea that someone’s flaws couldn’t possibly be a good thing. And as you’ve come to realize, Jungkook wasn’t the perfect gentleman you’d initially chalked him up to be. He was human, just like you, with his own list of worries and thoughts, and sometimes those thoughts manifested into flaws. They could be ugly or they could be beautiful, but at the end of the day, they all made Jungkook into the person he was— and you loved that person. Disgustingly so.

You had your moments, and he had his. Everything would not always be sunshine and rainbows for the two of you, but it was fine so long as you learned to play in the rain and stomp in the puddles.

Still.

You were you.

A slightly mean, slightly conniving, petty ass human who had been plotting his revenge since the day the two of you made up. I mean, you weren’t actually just going to let him get off the hook like that, were you? He had saved himself last time with a gooey, heartfelt apology and confession, followed by some extraordinary dicking down that had left you Naked and Afraid for three days after.

But you weren’t that easy! No, ma’am. You had to let him know that some gorgeous demon dick was not enough to satisfy you after a fight like that.

Jungkook was in for a desperately needed reality check, one that jingles in your purse when you step out of the Uber that drops you off at his place. You know he’s home because his front light is on, and also because he’d texted you that he was watching some soccer match on tv tonight. He’s a pretty big fan, especially of the club playing tonight, so you decide it’s a perfect night to strike.

Your copy of his key slips right into the keyhole. Your slippers are in the same place they always are, neatly set off to the side right by the stairs. He’s not in his living room, undoubtedly the most perfect place to watch any type of sporting event with that huge Jumbotron of his. The damn thing made it feel like you were in the stadium itself.

There’s a quiet hum coming from upstairs. You creep up the steps, carefully rounding the corner at the landing until you’re staring right into his dimly lit bedroom.

The way Jungkook’s got his bedroom set up is so that you can look directly at his door from the bed, terribly inconvenient for when that sleep paralysis demon hits in the middle of the night and you’re left staring into the dark hallway. He’s snuggled comfortably over his sheets, about three pillows supporting his back. The light of the tinier, more acceptable television he keeps in his room is dancing across his features in bright shades of green. You almost throw yourself onto his mattress like a starfish until you spot the carefully placed foot on the bed.

“What the hell did you do?” you blurt. A wrong move, considering he hadn’t seen you yet and your sudden appearance makes him jump nearly ten feet into the air, almost knocking down the bag of ice that sits on his ankle. “Oh my god, it was that damned Pilates class, wasn’t it?” you fret, rounding the bed until you’re on his side.

“Oh hey,” he says as if you’re not currently pulling the first eight seasons of Grey’s Anatomy to the forefront of your head to treat him. “When’d you get here?”

“Cut the crap, who did this to you?” you ask, sitting beside him with the utmost care. You drop your bag off to the side, the loud clatter of the inside contents vaguely registering in your head. The ice pack comes off easily, revealing a relatively okay looking ankle save for the slight swell towards the more medial aspect of it.

Jungkook takes the moment to sit up, joining you in your inspection of his injury. “No one,” he answers, using his new position to drop a kiss against the side of your head. “I fell off the ladder helping Mrs. Jung across the street.”

You choke. “You fell off a ladder?” you squawk, eyes wide as your gaze shifts from his ankle to his entire body.

He places a hand on your shoulder, “babe, I was on like the third step. It was one of those old wooden ones,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. “The step just happened to snap on my way down.”

You scoff. “That old lady is out to get you,” you warn him. “Remember the time she almost had you plug in those burnt out Christmas lights for her? The ones that would have electrocuted you to death.”

Jungkook laughs, settling back into his stack of pillows. “In her defense, she’s old,” he offers. He’s wrapped up in a black hoodie, fluffy bangs parted down the middle. He’s got on some blue shorts, a huge difference from his usual dark-toned clothing. He looks so good and warm, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact you can’t possibly handcuff this poor, injured angel to his bedpost and ride his cock into the sunset. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

You deflate, wild fantasies thrown out the window. “Yeah, well,” you sigh, ditching your pants and climbing over him until you’re snuggled into his side. “Wanted to show you my nails.”

It’s a lame excuse. But he buys it, so.

“They’re cute,” he says, taking your hand in his. He turns your hand over, inspects your pretty new acrylics like he actually has any idea how much they cost or how sexy they look. He raises your hand to his face, pressing a smooch against your knuckles that has you heart thumping embarrassingly loud in your chest. God, you hated this fool.

You turn your nose up at him, like you’re some snooty rich girl who couldn’t give him the time of day. Except it’s not like that, and Jungkook knows.

“What’re you watching?” you ask instead.

He’s got that stupid dopey smile on you, the one that takes one nudge against his side to snap him out of. “Ah, just the game.”

You squint at the screen. “Is this Fox Sports?” you ask in disgust.

He pinches your side. “This is ESPN,” he corrects. “And you don’t know shit about sports channels,” he points out. “So sit this one out.” You give in with a huff, cuddling closer into his side while trying to jostle him as little as possible. Jungkook seems to have no deeply rooted concerns about his injured ankle if the way he hauls you into his arms is any indicator. “How did nails with Doyeon go?”

“You know, the usual,” you respond, idly toying with one of the strings on his hoodie as your eyes focus on the little figures running across the screen. He hums, gesturing for you to elaborate. “Talked about sex, how much better than you at life she is, some more sex.”

He scoffs at that. “Doyeon is not better than me, and I have a whole trophy case to prove it.”

“Okay, but have you singlehandedly Twitter beefed with an entire sorority in your freshman year of university and won?”

He frowns. “No.”

You give him a look, one that says stand down now unless you want to lose to my best friend and get your feelings hurt. Jungkook understands. “Anyway,” he announces, turning his attention back to the screen with you. You think his team might be winning—you vaguely remember seeing him wear a similar jersey once—so he’s pretty relaxed for now. “They’re doing pretty good considering they just lost their main striker.”

You have no idea what that means. “Who? Messi?”

Jungkook knows you don’t know. “He doesn’t even play in this league,” he explains anyway.

“Oh, I saw him trending on Twitter last week. Thought he died or something. Whole time it was just a bunch of soccer nerds crying about him leaving his team.”

He laughs. “You should be a sportscaster,” Jungkook decides after your ever-so-eloquent recap, tucking his head cutely against your shoulder. There was a study once that claimed the incessant need to squeeze a baby’s cheeks or hug puppies tightly was actually the innate human response to kill something they felt threatened by. Oddly enough, you find yourself thinking of that as Jungkook’s citrusy shampoo floods your nostrils.

“Oh, speaking of Doyeon,” he says suddenly. “Did you give her my address? I got a weird package from that store she likes that I genuinely don’t remember ever ordering.” You frown, sitting up slightly until you can look at the side of his face, the cute mole on his cheek calling your name.

“What?” you ask. “Was it in her name?” Jungkook nods. You’re about to tear the roof off his house and go hunt that evil wench down when realization dawns on you. “Oh, no, yeah I gave her your address. My mom stayed over last weekend and Doyeon needed to order something nasty. Guess it got delayed until now.”

Jungkook nods and then doesn’t say much else, which is weird considering the circumstances. You expected him to gently scold you for carelessly giving the psycho that was Kim Doyeon his address, but she’s been here a few times to pick you up, even came over for beer night once. She probably knew it anyway, but you still expected some type of reaction of disapproval from him.

Something’s off, and you know better than to leave it at that. You poke his cheek, right where that mole you’d been eyeing was. “Did you open her package?” you ask, grin slowly consuming your features at the fact Jungkook was apparently a mail snooper.

He looks away. You laugh. “Oh my god, you did,” you cackle, sitting up beside him to get a good look at the blush growing on his cheeks. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” he huffs, pretending to be overly invested in his soccer match again, but that ship died the moment you stepped into his room. “Babe, I can't see the match.”

You roll your eyes, purposefully shifting in front of him so he’s forced to look at the maniac look in your eyes. “What did you see, Jeon Jungkook, and are we going to steal it from her again?”

His cheeks bloom impossibly darker at that. “No!” he coughs, pointedly avoiding your gaze.

But your curiosity is at its peak now, his reactions only exacerbating it. You grab him by the shoulders, hands balling the material of his hoodie as you give him one firm shake. “What did you see,” you demand.

“Oh my god,” he gives in. You release him and he flops back onto his pillow mountain. “They were things,” he explains slowly, cheeks rosy. “For your, y’know,” a vague gesture over his chest.

You frown. “A bra?” you guess. “I’m not gonna lie, Kook, think I just lost a little respect for you.”

“No!” he huffs. “They were… little clamps. For your nipples.”

If this was a cartoon, you’re almost certain you’d be that character with the object in question in their eyes, heart fluttering in your chest at the words that leave his mouth.

Immediately, two things become obvious to you.

One, Kim Doyeon was a bigger freak than you’d expected who obviously dabbled in an assortment of trades. Clamps, your brain screams, overwhelmed with the image that appears in your head, the one that has a shiver running straight to your core. You would have to thank her for this gracious, unintentional gift she’s bestowed upon you.

Two, you’re gonna have to write her the best, most plausible apology letter tomorrow when you inform her those clamps have been lost in the mail, never to be seen again. Or you could just straight up tell her you snatched them up the moment you found out what they were, but you doubt that’ll go over well.

Jungkook groans. “You have that look in your eye,” he points out. You snap your attention back to him. “And I just wanna say in advance that I don’t think i can give you the fun night you deserve, baby,” he apologizes, motioning towards his still swollen ankle.

Something distinctly mean switches on inside of you.

You flash him a sweet smile that has him letting down his guard. You lean forward, pressing a soft peck to his cheek as you climb down the bed towards your forgotten purse that’d been resting on the floor until that point. “Who said I needed you to have fun?” you throw over your shoulder, carefully slipping Doyeon’s first gift close to your body so he won’t see.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed look. “Really,” he says dryly, “you think you can have fun without me?” He almost sounds cocky, as if the idea of you even enjoying yourself the teensiest bit without his help seems unfathomable.

You grin, padding over to his bedside, where you carefully pick up his hand. You mirror his actions from before, pressing a sweet kiss against his knuckles that makes that conceited look slip off his features for a second, eyes soft.

Click.

Jungkook frowns. “What the—“ before the sentence can leave his mouth you’re lunging forward, wrestling his hands above his head, until they’re both secured at his headboard by the soft cuffs Doyeon had given you that afternoon at the salon. Jungkook’s wide eyes stare back at you, briefly leaving to glance up at the silver chain that wraps behind one of the rungs of his headboard. “Babe,” he says slowly. “What the fuck.”

You beam at him, leaning down to snatch a pillow from beneath him so he’s better positioned, leaning back more. “So cute,” you gush, taking in the way his raised arms have the hem of his hoodie lifting at the waist. There’s a faint trail of hairs around his belly button that disappear beneath the elastic of his shorts. “Do you like them?”

Jungkook blinks. “Baby,” he says a second time, much slower and a little too calm for your liking. It almost gets swallowed by the roar of the fans on TV. “What is this?”

You ignore him, scampering around his room until you find the hot pink Sexuality Unleashed packaging peeking out from beneath his bed. Sure enough, it’s in Doyeon’s name but his address. A whole complicated mess just for some nipple clamps she’ll never see again. It’s what’s inside anyway, not that you thought Jungkook was lying, but there’s something about the actual, carefully wrapped packaging that makes your heart and pussy flutter.

“Oh! Aren’t these the prettiest things?” you exclaim, whirling around to where Jungkook is shaking up a storm with his cuffs, pout growing on his features the longer you leave him there. The ice pack slips off his ankle, falling onto the comforter beside him from all his movement.

Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit interested in the silver nipple clamps in your hands, too busy trying to free himself from the sudden trap you sprung on him. “Sweetheart, we can play with those tomorrow, alright?” he tries, relaxing his arms and finally looking your way. There’s a frustrated furrow to his brows, one you rarely see but adore very much. “Just undo these cuffs for me, yeah?”

You tilt your head to the side, placing a hand on the inside of his calf that you trail all the way up as you move to stand beside his hip. His thighs flinch at your touch, tensing when you stop just before the crotch of his pants. “Mmm, don’t think so,” you smile, dropping the thin chain beside him.

Your shirt goes first, peeled over your body until you’re left standing in your bra. It’s nothing too special this time, just your average run of the mill comfort bra hugging your chest. But that doesn’t really matter, especially not with the way you’re hoping things play out tonight. You’d discarded your jeans a few moments prior, so the shirt joins them on a pile on his floor.

As much as he tries to act irritated by your refusal to release him, there’s a slow stirring beneath his shorts. It’s emphasized by that bright blue material, cock swelling as he watches you take off your clothes. “Baby,” he warns, possibly for the last time. But you won’t know unless you push some more, you tell yourself, placing one knee on the edge of the bed, the other thrown across his lap.

“Wow,” you marvel, picking the chain up once more. Jungkook shifts beneath you, half hard cock brushing against the cleft of your cheeks. “Don’t you wanna see what it’s like, Jungkookie?”

He says nothing, watching you with solemn eyes that leave no room for reading him. Behind you, the game commentator is chattering up a storm.

Doesn’t matter, especially not when this flimsy metal had you so completely hypnotized. You reach behind yourself, unsnapping your bra with one fluid motion that has the cups falling onto your lap, soft chest on display for the man before you. Your breasts spill out slowly from their cage, pretty hardened buds slowly coming into his view. They make him pause his fussing, half-lidded gaze falling to the swell of your chest hungrily. His hands jerk, the cuffs doing their job of keeping them there.

You grin, placing a hand on his chest, over his hammering heart. “Do you wanna see me wear them?” you croon, tugging the material of his hoodie up his stomach, until your thighs are sitting directly on his tiny waist, thin thong just over his belly button. You trail your hand up, letting it brush up the side of his neck and bury into his scalp. You give an experimental tug that has his eyes squeezing shut. “Yes or no, Jungkookie?”

He’s being a huge brat for you, eyes scrunched up together like the sight of you enjoying yourself sans his touch is unimaginable. Another tug of his hair and he’s exhaling shakily, a quiet, “yes,” slipping past his lips.

The chain drops onto his chest with a quiet thud, shocking him enough to blink his eyes back open. Releasing your hold on his hair, you sit back on his lap, towering over his fidgety body like a goddess at a temple, him the lowly worshipper beneath you.

Your hands crawl over your body, starting somewhere around your waist. The glide up over your tummy, caress the underside of your breasts teasingly. Sure Jungkook knew your body well, but you knew your body best. One hand rubs teasingly over your breast, palm pressing down slightly against where your nipple lies, while the other drops down between your thighs, slowly grinding against your mound.

“Look, Jungkookie,” you gasp, body twitching at your own hands. You take a hardened nub between your fingers, rolling it back and forth until it’s standing at its peak. “I can do it without you,” you tease, rolling your hips against him slowly. The thin material of your thong does nothing to save you from the delicious swell of his cock against you. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, circling a finger over your clit. “It’s, it’s even better.”

His restraints jiggle against the bed frame, an obvious look of distress crossing his features. “No,” he huffs out a whine, tugging at the cuffs as you slowly unravel on his lap. They don’t give, no matter how much he pulls. You know he’s holding back, afraid of damaging his headboard, and you take advantage of the fact as you move to roll both nipples between your fingers. He groans harshly, jaw tight. “Hate you,” he hisses, hips wiggling beneath you. “Hate you, hate you.”

You breathe out an airy chuckle. “R-Really?” you ask, trembling hands finally reaching back for that second gift of the day. Your breath is shallow, so thoroughly wound up from your own playful hands, and you tremble at the mere brush of the cool metal. “Oh fuck,” you whimper, bringing them up to your chest, “I’ve never done this before,” you confess.

There’s a sense of amazement that consumes you at the thin chain you hold in your hands, the pretty gold painted clamps on each end. It makes you shiver, body unconsciously grinding down against Jungkook’s lap where his engorged cock was fighting against the material of his shorts.

“Then let me help you,” he tries, the childish tone from before melting into his usual silky smooth baritone. Jungkook even softens his gaze at you, let’s his tongue peek out to wet his lips as you almost seriously consider his request.

Had it not been for the sudden loud shout from the sports commentator behind you, a long obnoxious gooooooaaal, you probably would have fallen victim to that honey-eyed gaze. You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.

Without a second thought, you bring one of the little camps close to your chest, giving it a few experimental squeezes until the nerves are replaced with an overwhelming wave of horniness that even Jungkook can sense. “Fuck,” he groans, shaking his restraints back and forth like a wild animal as you slowly get to clamping your left nipple.

You’re not sure what you expected; part of you had thought it was going to be an excruciating pain, one that would make you want to scream and shout in sheer agony. The other part had reduced it to a barely there pinch that would never live up to your fantasies. As it stands, the sensation of the clamp around your swollen nipple sits right in between, drawing in a choked gasp that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Baby, sweetheart,” Jungkook gasps alongside you, eyes zeroed in on the pinched off bundle of nerves. There’s a sudden grinding sound that fills the air, like the sawing off of wood that definitely doesn’t sound good, and it’s a direct result of the fight he puts up against his headboard. “Please, please,” he begs, muscled arms tugging back and forth. “I have to touch—“

The second clamp goes on, making your entire back arch as if you were possessed. You're not, just extremely overwhelmed by the prickle of pain on your tits that makes you grind down against his cock, hands fisting the front of his hoodie like it’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Oh,” you shudder, thighs quivering at the heightened stimulation you receive from the clamps sitting on your nipples. “Kook, I-I can’t.”

He growls, hips bucking beneath you in a crazed effort to better situate you on his lap. “You gotta take these off me,” he rasps out. The next buck of his hips makes the chain dangling between your breast brush dangerously close to his face. He’s unintentionally goaded on by the TV in the room, the annoying drone of the commentator shouting something about never giving up. “Can make you feel so much better, sweet girl,” he cooes, jutting his head out like he needs a kiss.

Your head feels woozy, pussy throbbing at the sensations being channeled down into your core. Your eyes flutter shut, and before you can think it through, you're blindly reaching for the chain, giving it one light tug that has you mewling like a kitten. “O-oh, fuck,” you sob, looping your finger around the thin chain carefully. Another tug that pulls against your nipples sends a gush of wetness down between your thighs. “Cock,” you slur dazedly, “need your cock.”

Jungkook shudders out a long breath. “Le-Let me go then, sweetheart,” he chokes out, “let me fuck that pretty little pussy for you.”

“Uh uh,” you disagree, bringing another angry buck out of him, metal cuffs rattling loudly. “Want you to watch,” you pant, reaching behind you for his shorts. “Watch me, Jungkookie.” It takes three tries for you to get a grip, the elastic material slipping from your fingers before you finally gain some semblance of control and paw them down . The shorts and the boxers came off together, his engorged cock springing up to tap against your ass. “W-Watch,” you repeat dazedly, leaning forward with one hand on his shoulder to line him up with your dripping hole. Behind you, the commentator is droning on about core balance or something of the sort. It takes two tries as you blindly have to tug your panties to the side as well, and just as you have his fiery red tip against your entrance, something else happens.

He catches you, pearly teeth biting down on the chain that connects your clamps in a motion you can only liken to a bloodthirsty shark jumping out of the water, jaws snapping to catch its prey. It dangles in his face, the same way his own necklaces have done to you so many times before. But the difference between you and Jungkook was that while you let his assortment of necklaces hypnotize you, drag across your face painfully, he doesn’t. He snaps forward, catches it between his teeth.

You mewl loudly, foggy vision turning onto him. Jungkook’s got this unreadable look on his face, likes he’s pissed off and turned on all at once. “You’re not in charge,” he murmurs around the chain, the s and c sounds all slurred together. “You will never be in charge, silly girl, you got that?” he spits, yanking his head back like an animal, pulling your upper body with him by the two golden clamps on your nipples.

There’s tears in your eyes, lining your waterline and threatening to fall with each tug his mouth gives against the chain of your nipple clamps. He’s got his neck craned back as far as he possibly can with a pillow beneath him, chain links digging into his bottom lip. “Y-Yes,” you sob, your entire body quivering at the way he so easily manages to overthrow you, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, solemn eyes flickering across your twisted features once more. He gives another purposeful tug, head snapping back just the tiniest bit, but it’s enough to tug you forward again, a loud whimper torn from your throat. “Undo these cuffs for me, sweet girl,” he commands softly, jiggling the same restraints he’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes fighting against.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, hands wildly slapping down on his bedside table. You had had half the mind to leave the key there when you had retrieved the cuffs, telling yourself it would be easy access afterwards. It’s not, apparently, the silver pick falling just out of reach. For some reason— it’s probably the sensitivity and horninesss, the pinpricks of pain that originate from your nipples —this fact frustrates you to the point of tears.

“Easy, doll,” Jungkook talks you through, voice low and soft beneath you, “relax and grab it for me, okay?” You nod, angrily blinking away a tear that drips down your face. It splatters on Jungkook’s cheek, bringing a soft huff of amusement from him.

Finally the key brushes your hand, and you sigh in relief, shakily leaning forward to undo the lock above his head. He releases his killer chomp/grip on your chain just as you release his cuffs. “I-I’m sorry,” you sniffle, a sudden need to apologize as you watch him rub at the raw skin around his wrists. “I didn’t—“

“Shhh,” he says, cuddling you into his chest. “It’s alright,” he says simply and you believe him.

Which ends up being a terrible mistake exactly ten seconds later when he’s shoving your face into the sheets, your cries and whimpers muffled by the sounds of the game on TV as he winds your arms behind your back. You struggle for all of five seconds before a soft click resounds from behind you.

“Did you think I’d just let that slide, sweet girl?” he growls against your ear, hot breath fanning across your skin. “I'm not your dog, __,” he spits, suddenly yanking you up by your cuffed wrists. Your chest is heaving, arms aching from the way he’s got you on your knees, blind to whatever he’s doing behind you. “Don’t lock me up, because I’ll always come back to bite.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you stammer, flinching when a hand snakes around your waist, an experimental tug to the chain of your clamps. It sends a shudder down your spine, amplified by the hot press of his body behind you. “I won’t do it again!”

“I know you fucking won’t,” he laughs meanly, trailing his hand down over your mound. One finger circles your clit through your underwear, a shaky sigh exiting your lips at the jarringly light touch. “Because I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve learned your lesson, silly girl.”

“I said sorry,” you whimper, thighs quivering. His cock brushes up against you, the same cock you were about to ride until the sunset. Oh how the tables have turned.

A hand slips beneath your underwear, pad of a finger rubbing against your swollen clit. “Oh,” you exhale, surprised with the suddenly gentle touch following his words. “Th-That’s nice,” you murmur, head lolling forward at the slow rhythm he sets, playing with you like you were a toy that needed warming up.

“Yeah?” he husks out. There’s a yank to your clamps that makes you gasp, chest following the motion as if it’ll reduce the shock. “You think this is about making you feel nice?” he murmurs. Another tug, followed by another, until he’s raining down a series of rhythmic shocks onto your tits that make you shiver and twitch, tongue heavy in your mouth to the point you feel like you’re drooling.

“Wait,” you whimper, arms twisting behind you. “Hurts, hurts” you cry, arching your back like it’ll save you from the steady stimulation against your rock-hard nipples.

“Does it?” Jungkook hums, one hand working away at your clit. He swirls it around his finger, pressing down on the nub in an attempt to distract you. But it only heightens the sting coming from your breasts, the blossom of pain that grows over each mound the longer he plays with you. “Good. Want your pretty little body to hurt for me, baby.”

Right after saying that he releases the grip on your chain, letting it swing back and forth until it eventually rests on your stomach, throbbing nipples spared for now. A breath of relief washes over you now that you only have to worry about the hand playing along your folds. The TV is still flickering to your right, but the commentator's voice sounds fuzzy and so far away, like he’s in a whole different dimension while you and Jungkook are here.

Your reprieve lasts shorter than you expected, as his free hand slowly begins creeping up your waist, fluttering over the little gold clamps pinching your nipples. “Pretty girl,” he compliments, nudging one tender nub with a playful finger. “Pretty, pretty baby,” Jungkook murmurs as he begins massaging the scorching hot skin around your nipples gently. There’s a warm kiss pressed to your shoulder, followed by a trail up the side of your neck. You shudder, trying to focus on the hand that creeps down your folds, teases itself against your entrance.

“Jungkook,” you whine softly, rolling your head to the side so he can suck bruise after bruise onto your skin. You’re definitely drooling, the saliva thick and heavy in your mouth. “T-Too much.”

“Thought you wanted that,” he mumbles, kissing up and up until he’s at your jaw and then he’s at your mouth, languidly kissing you. He’s doing that thing again where he’s hellbent on drowning you in his spit, and if you didn’t know better you’d think he was preparing you for something. “Wanted me to watch you bounce that tight little cunt on me while your tits were like this,” he says, punctuating his statement with a light slap against the side of one breast. It makes you jump, a moan catching in your throat.

The finger that had been playing meanly along your wet folds eases itself past your lips, plunges head first into the aching heat inside of you. He works it against your walls, thumb over your clit as he curls his finger inside of you. You moan loudly, shaking in your restraints. The hand over your chest squeezes, pushes the clamp deeper against your breast until your entire body is short-circuiting.

Your first orgasm comes over you with all the grace of a lightning bolt; it’s sudden and jerky, has every nerve ending wildly spasming as you whimper his name. “No more, no more,” you beg, head lolling back against his shoulder. He shows you no mercy, simply rubs furiously over your clit, until you’re jerking into his maniac hand.

When it’s over, he places a kiss against your jaw, curling his finger inside once more “Play with yourself,” he whispers.

“H-Huh?” you stutter, the rattle of your cuffs loud in both your ears, but not as loud as the breath you were trying to catch post-orgasm. You wonder if maybe he got ahead of himself again—he occasionally did that, thinking ahead to a point you hadn’t reached in your normal progression of sex —but suddenly he’s shoving you back down again, the finger that was slowly driving you insane rudely exiting your cunt.

You flop down against the mattress with a squeal, wiggling around like you actually had a chance of doing anything with him watching you like he is. You struggle for a few beats, every shift against the mattress rubbing harshly against your breasts until you nearly want to cry.

Just as you reach that point, he’s rolling you into your back, hands uncomfortably bent beneath you. It leaves you unwillingly arching to accommodate them, tits practically presented for him to see. “Pretty girl,” Jungkook groans, reaching down for the first time that day to touch himself.

His self restraint was truly unmatched, you realize, watching him squeeze the base of his cock. He runs a palm over his abdomen, up his chest. He drags the material of his hoodie along with it, eventually shucking it off somewhere to the side. His hair, so fluffy and soft, flops over his forehead, a few defined strands tickling his eyebrow.

The mere sight of him alone made you shiver, pussy clenching at the wet dream before you. He’s not an idiot either, obviously aware of what the sight of his body does to you, the tattoos littering his entire right arm that hypnotize you. The faint glow of the TV screen against his side makes him look like the cover star of every middle-aged wife’s erotic romance novel. He reaches said arm down, runs a hand along your thigh until you’re spreading them wide for him.

He doesn’t touch you like you want, only slides over your body until he’s toying with the chain of the nipple clamps that were slowly becoming the bane of your existence. “Open,” he says suddenly, and you do. Your mouth drops open, tongue stuck out slightly even if you don’t know why. He’s ingrained the response into you by now, made you into a desperate slut always ready for anything in your mouth.

This time it’s the stupid, stupid chain connecting your nipple clamps. He tugs it until it’s pulled up, the pull against your nipples making you whimper and writhe. The metal is cool when it touches your lips, but his fingertips are warm. “Good girl,” he praises once you bite down; even this sends a shock of nerves down your spine and to your pussy. “Just like that.”

A muffled whimper escapes your lips, tears clouding your vision at the stimulation that was quickly overwhelming you again. Part of you thinks no more, please, I can’t. But the other has you spreading your legs for him, quivering pussy desperate to be filled.

The distress must be obvious in your face if the way Jungkook kisses your neck is any indication. He’s got one hand massaging against the underside of one breast, like he’s soothing the striking pain of your pinched nipples for you. If anything, it only strings you along more. “Stupid baby,” he chuckles meanly, a soft puff of laughter against your jaw, “thinking she could push me down.”

He leans back onto his knees, that same careful brush against the inside of your thigh bringing about an embarrassing whimper as he peels your thong away. “But you didn’t really want that, did you?” he eggs on, slowly shifting down against the bed, until his mouth is hovering over your exposed lower lips. His breath is warm, makes you yearn for him to be closer. “You like when I shove my cock into your little pussy, right? Like how it feels when I turn you into my little slut like this,” he sighs, pressing one chaste kiss against your thigh that makes you pull at the cuffs behind your back.

Soon, his mouth is on your clit, the same clit he had previously pampered with his hands but chooses to play with again. He licks an obscenely wet stripe from your throbbing hole to your clit, tongue curling devilishly towards the end. You whimper, though the sound is distorted around the chain in your mouth. Jungkook groans, dives mouth first into your cunt until he’s suffocating himself. His cute nose is pressed against your clit, and he takes advantage of the fact by taking one, dramatic sniff with his eyes rolled back. A soft moan escapes him.

“Fuck,” he shudders, “smell like heaven for me.” You moan at his sweet words, eyes squeezed shut as if that’ll stop the buckets of overwhelmed tears that you’ve been fighting off since the moment the clamps came on. “Wanna give you the world, angel,” he breathes, licking languidly against your folds, tongue occasionally peeking inside.

You mewl and writhe, every movement sending a tug of pain over your nipples. You want that gorgeous cock deep in your cunt, want to feel him in your womb, but you can’t voice any of this with the chain of the clamps between your lips.

Jungkook sits up suddenly, and you’re thinking yes, finally, before the look on his face has you screeching to a halt. There’s something distinctly different about him, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen in bed before. Your thoughts are only confirmed when his foot slides onto the floor, as if he’s about to leave.

The panic must be evident on your face, because Jungkook is quick to swoop in and reassure you he’s not done with you yet. “Wanna fuck your little pussy,” he admits, carding a hand through your hair. “But the truth is I don’t think you deserve that just yet.”

With that he slinks off the bed, leaving you writhing in confusion as he heads off for the closet behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing, can only hear the shuffling of something back and forth. The TV is still on, the loud cheering of the fans muffling his clattering. You’re suddenly reminded of his swollen ankle, craning your neck to tell him to not overdo it, when something dark covers your eyes.

He’s standing just beside the edge of the bed, his signature teddy bear heat emanating off in waves so thick you could touch them. “Do you trust me?” he murmurs, voice close but not close to your ear.

Something swells in your chest, an emotion so intense your entire pelvis tightens up at the realization that Jungkook was asking for permission to blindfold you. You’re almost certain it’s one of his ties, a silky black thing that covers your vision for the most part, save for a little crack by where your nose juts out. A shuffle to your side, and then he’s gently prying the chain he had pushed past your lips earlier out. “Need an answer, ___,” he says quietly, almost nervously.

“Yes,” you gasp, your entire body set aflame at the sudden turn of events.

If you were being honest you would have never predicted your night would end like this. Maybe you came in a little too cocky, a little too optimistic for the night. It was supposed to be Jungkook handcuffed and powerless, you remind yourself— how on earth did you get here?

“Good girl,” he praises, giving you a little encouraging nudge to raise your head for him to actually tie the knot behind your head. It’s definitely one of his suit ties, you realize, because there’s a distinct cross-stitch pattern that you can feel only when it’s tightened against your skin, pressing against your fluttering eyelids. When he releases you, you’re suddenly all too aware of the sense he’s deprived you of.

“K-Kook?” you call out with a tremble in your voice. The rhythmic pattern of his footsteps rounds the bed again, and then there’s a soft touch against your leg.

“Right here, sweet girl,” he reassures you. The bed dips by your legs as he closes in on you, still tied up and on the verge of a second orgasm that he snatched away before your very eyes; not that you can see it anymore. His hand slides over your stomach, tugs playfully at the clamps. You moan, the sensation magnified tenfold by the fact you can’t see nor anticipate his actions now.

His hands glide like two sailing boats over the broad expanse of sea that is your body, molding against your curves like waves as they go. He hums appreciatively, and you find yourself glad you can’t see him. You can’t possibly imagine with what eyes he’s looking at you now.

You bask in the glory of his attention for another beat before he retracts his touch.

And then, suddenly, something distinctly not hand-like, and weirdly soft traces over the inside of your thighs. “Kook?” you ask tentatively.

No response.

It runs over your skin in the same way his hands just did, a unique shape your brain scrambles to put a name too. It’s soft, so soft. But cold to the touch. Inanimate for sure. It’s a toy, your brain supplies belatedly, but that much you already know.

It’s heart-shaped, you realize, just as it thwacks down against your pussy.

You shriek at the suddenness of it all, thighs clamping shut. Your heart is thundering at a pace of a rabbit’s, chest rising and falling as you blindly piece together what just happened. “Kook?” you whimper a second time, head craning back and forth in a desperate attempt to track his next move.

He’s not touching you anymore, but the bed is still dipping by your feet, so you deduce he must be there. You test your theory by sliding your foot against the sheets, lower lip trembling at the idea of him not being there.

Jungkook catches your ankle with one warm palm, slightly calloused from years of weightlifting. He raises it up, the cold air of his room hitting your exposed pussy. “You liked it,” he says, not a question but an observation. Your pussy throbs, the phantom strike against it lingering. A kiss to your ankle.

“Wh-What is it?” you cry, unconsciously pressing your leg closer to him now that you have his location. (You don’t see the soft smile on his face at your action.) Ever so slowly you let your thighs open again, now anticipating the next touch of that thing— that riding crop, you realize.

Jungkook confirms. “It’s a riding crop,” he explains, excitement curling around his words. Suddenly, it returns, this time against your stomach. He doesn’t strike you like he did before, simply lets it run across your tummy. “Heart-shaped. It’s so pretty,” he sighs dreamily. “Reminds me of you.”

You nod anxiously, stomach muscles tensed the longer it stays there. Jungkook obviously sees this, lifting it to give you the lightest of taps that still manages to make you gasp. “Cute,” he laughs, trailing it back to where it first touched down.

“Oh,” you tremble, thighs twitching as it pats tenderly over your clit. “Wai-Wait,” you warn, body arching as he runs it down, down your swollen folds. “No,” you weep, going to close your legs. But Jungkook predicts your moves, pressing your thigh down harshly against the bed.

“Shh,” he soothes, tracing the heart down your folds, pressing it flat against you. There’s a distinct lining over it that makes your hips jump, a faux-velvet covering the tip that tickles your skin. “Sit still for me.”

“No!” you gasp. Your back arches, body betraying you as it pushes your pussy against the toy. “I can’t, I can’t, Kook,” you sob, lips contracting around the gaping nothingness in your hole.

He condemns your attitude with a harsh swat of the riding crop against your cunt, tearing another high-pitched squeal from your lips. It’s followed by another against your clit that makes your body spasm. “Bad,” he chides. “Supposed to be my perfect girl.”

“I c-can’t,” you whine, the darkness over your eyes making the sensations ten times more intense. You don’t know where he or the riding crop are if they’re not directly touching you. Even then, the image is fuzzy in your head. “Need you,” you pant.

You try to reach for him, try to pull him into your arms. But you’re reminded of the cuffs holding you back, the metal digging into your skin behind you. You sob at the realization, angrily shaking your hands back and forth like maybe acting like a tantrum-throwing child will save you. It doesn’t.

Instead there’s a tug at the chain resting on your stomach, one that makes you cry out in pain when it pulls at your terribly sensitive nipples again. Jungkook uses it to pull you close, just a small inch off the bed that has you gasping for breath nonetheless.

“N-No,” you wail, nipples throbbing from all the sensations you’ve put them through tonight.

A chaste peck against your trembling lips. “Tell me how it feels,” he purrs, nose brushing against yours. Even with the tie obstructing your vision, the latest version of your boyfriend burns itself into your eyelids, force feeding you his sweaty skin and damp hair until even his breath against your face is enough to bring you to the edge.

“I-It’s scary, Kook,” you sniffle, listening for any signs of a reaction. But even if he did show one, your breathing is too loud and the ESPN channel is still blaring on screen. “Scary,” you whimper, lunging forward in a desperate move to feel the familiar brush of his tongue against yours. You miss.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks carefully, like he’s afraid he’s pushed too far.

He has. But fuck, do you love it.

“No,” you wail, lips smushed somewhere along his cheek, near his jaw and not his mouth like you wanted to. “Feels good, feels so fucking amazing,” you babble, cut off halfway through by a hiccup from your sad cries. “Wanna cum, wanna cum for you like this.”

Jungkook chuckles in relief, tilting his head until you can catch his lips with yours. It’s probably an awkward angle you assume, him adjusting for your vision-less whims, but it feels so good. It sends a shock to your pussy, his plush lips against yours. Without him telling you, you’re opening your mouth for him. “Spit on me,” you beg pitifully.

Jungkook groans, and you can almost visualize the look on his face perfectly— the tensing of his jaw, the push of his Adam’s apple, the pucker of his lips. “God, you’re disgusting,” he sighs, a fat glob of spit hitting the back of your tongue. Without your vision, you don’t see it coming, recoiling with a whiny mewl. The thin trail of saliva that follows trails across your chin when he finally reels back. You swallow greedily, wondering how soon is too soon to ask him to do it again.

With your full permission to move forward, Jungkook wastes no time trailing the riding crop over your wet folds, collecting your oozing pre-cum on the tiny heart as he roves it over your cunt. “Fuck, you can probably cum like this too, can’t you?”

You can’t answer, too caught up in the featherlight brushes. Even if you wanted to say something, one sudden strike against your pussy renders you speechless. “Mmh!” you hiss, biting down on your lip.

“Come on,” Jungkook encourages, resting a hand on your thigh. He presses the crop against you again, pushes down until the flat apex of the heart where it meets the flexible stem of the toy is pressing against your cunt hotly. He grinds it down against you, takes a sick pleasure in the pathetic way you arch up into it, rut against the little heart like it can provide even half the pleasure his hands usually would. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your body is on fire, every nerve, every sensation shooting straight to your most erogenous areas— your cunt and your nipples. Talking seems like the farthest thing from your mind right now, too caught up in the way he roughly pushes the crop against your clit. A whimper rips itself from your throat, shuddering at the sensation. Unconsciously you jerk away from him, only to be scolded with another thwack against your quivering pussy lips. “A-Ahh,” you wail, squirming beneath him like a worm that can’t sit still. “Good— it feels good, Jungkookie,” you weep.

The soft mushy pet name has him raining down two snacks against you in quick succession. “No baby names,” he warns, frown evident in his voice.

Even with you completely under him like this, shackled and blinded with your love, something unmistakably childish and obnoxious curls around your throat, has you biting down on a grin as the coil in your stomach tightens. “D-Don’t like that, Jungkookie,” you choke out hoarsely, wildly bold for someone in your position. “D-Don't like being m-my baby?”

The crop loses its position over your folds, and for a minute you’re left anxiously anticipating its next touch.

It’s on the side of your breast, harder than the rest, combining with the already powerful pinch of the clamps. It makes you cry out painfully, stomach tightening at what is probably the most unexpected orgasm you’ve ever had. It isn’t like your usual ones that overpower you and make cum trickle out between your folds.

No, it comes in waves— literally. Your pussy spasms, pushes one splurt of cum out between your thighs, almost likes your lower lips are spitting it out. And then again, more the second time, against his mattress. He pushes your legs up to your chest to marvel at the cum coating your lips and thighs. “You’re my baby, stupid,” he hisses. He grabs at your clamps then, twisting the little chain in his hand harshly. You sob at the yank, at the way your nipples feel two seconds away from being ripped off. But you can’t even complain, because the sudden touch has your pussy clenching, before a final trickle of cum oozes out of you.

Even still, your mind babbles on. “N-No,” you choke, shaking back and forth. Despite the tie covering your eyes, they flicker like a mad man beneath it, like you’ll somehow get lucky and develop Seeing Through Fabric Ability if you try hard enough. “My, my baby,” you fight weakly, pelvis trembling from aftershocks of that orgasm. “My idiot b-boy,” you smile dazedly, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sting you’ve become familiar with by now. “T-Tell me, Jungkookie,” you croon, biting down on your lip to keep a moan from spilling out mid-syllable. “Still the same, r-right?” you stutter, “still think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

He scoffs. “No,” he vehemently denies, brashly landing an unexpected smack against your hip, no warning in sight. “That’s not true,” he defends. You can hear his pout, the little push of his lips when he grows defensive.

You laugh, every bit the insane lunatic, fueled by your two orgasms and slipping sense of reality. “Ffffuck,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into nothing. “S-Say it again, baby,” you plead, tongue licking across your lips. “Tell me, tell me you don’t care about my problems, Kook-ah,” you whimper.

There’s a hesitant pause on his end, an unexpected lull in your play as he’s torn apart between doing what you want or playing it safe.

You know you’re confusing him, because you’re certainly confusing yourself. You don’t even bother trying to dissect your emotions— you’ve long since accepted your mind was a dangerous place when horny and presented with Jungkook’s sole attention. Well, you knew you were into the whole degradation bit, but this whole having-your-boyfriend-throw-the-words-that-made-you-question-your-entire-worth bit was certainly new and unexpected.

But there’s something in your heart (and in your libido) that needs this, needs him to fix this memory for you that maybe, kinda sorta, has haunted you for days, weeks now, as much as you hate to admit it. Needed him to fix the booboo he gave you with a bandaid, only leave a scar you could look back at and laugh off, not a gaping wound that opened at the slightest mention of it. Because while you forgave, you certainly never forgot*.

(*Unless forgetting meant having your boyfriend overwrite said memory that couldn’t be forgotten with the sheer power of his monster demon cock and wicked tongue. Only then could you forget.)

“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Jungkook,” you spit, feeling the hesitancy in the riding crop that brushes against your skin. It fades away quickly. “S-Say I’ve a dead-end office job; just holding you back,” you beg, trying to pretend the entirety of his little outburst hasn’t been ingrained into your mind for the last couple of weeks. Something flashes in your chest, throat closing off when the toy finally leaves your skin. “Tell me, tell me—“

He looms over you, teddy bear warmth covering the entirety of your body. “Is this what you want?” he asks seriously, lowly, breath fanning across your lips. Your makeshift blindfold feels distinctly damp over your eyes, chest heaving with an exertion that can only be emotional when he speaks so softly to you after routinely raining down brutal thwacks on you for the past half hour. “__,” he says sternly, “is this what you want?”

You gasp on a sob, unsure when these emotions had time to manifest outside your heart like this. You nod your head like a bobble head doll sitting on someone’s dashboard, lower lip trembling on a shameful cry that is not sex-induced like all the other ones until now. “I-I need this, Jungkook,” you admit, voice so tiny and soft, it almost gets drowned out by your shaky exhales and the crowd roaring on screen. “Need to overwrite it.”

He presses a soft kiss to your quivering lips, slow and so devastatingly loving. It’s nothing like the one from before where he’d spit down your throat per your request, and the unbridled adoration he packs into one simple kiss makes you crumble in his arms, sniffles piling on by the dozens.

He leans back after a moment, pulls your thigh over his forearm and finally lets you feel the hard ridges of his cock against your folds. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, trying to sound angry and annoyed, but there’s a lilting tone to his words, a love and trust you wouldn’t have been able to see with or without your blindfold, but can feel nonetheless. He pulls it off you anyway, the warm glow of the TV illuminating his face for you for the first time in about half an hour. Eyes soft, sweat trailing down his body. His body lines up against yours, but so does his heart. You feel it in the way he holds you in his arms, the way he’s careful about sinking into your folds. He slips an arm beneath your waist, uses it to hold you up so you’re not uncomfortably squishing your arms anymore. But if you ask, he’ll pretend he’s doing this for convenience sake only.

“T-Terrible fucking job,” he starts out, the stammer eluding the obvious discomfort he has saying those words, but he does it for you anyway. “Big fucking baby,” he tries again, slowly pushing past your tight walls with a shudder. “C-Can’t look away from you for two seconds because you’re such a fucking kid.”

“Worse,” you choke out. “Meaner. Please, Kook.”

He nods, holds your waist carefully when he finally bottoms out inside of you. “Dead-end office job,” he says, repeating the words that had made you want to crawl into a whole and never come out from. “Got some stupid fucking problems,” he tacks on, slowly withdrawing his hips from your heat. “Always complaining about the stupidest shit,” he hisses, fingers digging into your waist when it’s only the tip of his cock inside of you. “I don’t fucking care about it,” he seethes, forcefully snapping his hips into you.

They’re scrambled fragments of what he’d really said to you that night. Line after line that don’t carry a quarter of hurt or even make coherent sense for that matter. And still.

You whimper, mind fuzzy from the thrusting pace he picks up, body fluttering at the glide of his cock against your walls. But your heart is thundering in your throat, his willingness to help fix this memory for you tightening around your every being until you can’t breathe. “I-I love you,” you cry, clenching down around him.

Jungkook groans, pulls you flush against his cock until the thin hairs around the base of his cock are tickling your skin. “Stupid, fucking child,” he groans, “immature ass nobody,” he grunts, bucking into you like your words don’t mean a thing.

“I am, I am,” you wail, suddenly hit with the cold hard truth that your body was desperately on edge. From the stimulation your nipples had gotten all night, to the ghost of the riding crop that lingered across your skin; your body was tired, so ready for a final orgasm that you’re certain Jungkook will provide. “T-Tell me y-you—“

“Shut up,” he barks, sweaty skin gliding against yours. “D-Don't tell me what to do,” he huffs, nailing you into the bed. He’s pushing you hard into the mattress, like he wants to brand you into it. “Need to fix this— alone.”

You nod numbly, the crowd behind him cheering loudly. It’s like they’re rooting for him— for the two of you —as silly as it sounds, and as bothersome as it would be any other day, today the obnoxious sounds of the ESPN soccer match only serve to fix a bad memory from before. It’s loud and cringey as all hell, but you’ll look back to this moment and laugh.

And that’s what you want most of all. You want that memory from before, that nasty fight, to go away, to disappear forever and be replaced with this one. Of him, pounding you into the sheets as his TV blares beside you, just another day, another round of sex filled with your usual kinks. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ffffuck,” you whine when the tip of his hard cock prods against your cervix. He’s going deep, he’s going all out, because he wants to fix this too. Wants to do anything to make it right, and he’ll never know how much you appreciate him for it. “S-So deep,” you whimper, hips jumping when he rams back inside.

“Stupid slut,” Jungkook snarls, tucking his head against your neck the same way he always does. “Making me do stupid shit like this,” he bites, but you know he doesn’t mean it, know he never will again. He rocks his hips into you, no longer concerned with holding you up from uncomfortably laying on your cuffed arms anymore as he pistons into your squelching heat. He’s pressed so close over you, lips brushing against your collarbone with each snap of his hips.

All the pushing and jostling about has the chain of your clamps wildly jumping about, sprawling across the planes of your chest, above your breasts, where he snatches it up between his lips again. “Stupid, fucking—“ he slurs, jutting his head to the side like a wild stallion. You sob at the tenderness of your nipples, at the way he pays them no mercy as he continues rutting into you like a mad dog in heat. “Slut,” he spits. “S-So fuckin’ pretty.”

Your mind is in another universe, and when that last word, that devastatingly familiar term, slips from his lips mindlessly, something inside you snaps. “N-No,” you sob, legs fidgeting around his waist at the orgasm that wracks through your body against your will. “No,” you cry in frustration, “didn’t, didn’t want—“

“Stupid, stupid angel,” he babbles, seemingly unaware of your orgasm as he continues fucking into your leaking cunt, ignorant of the cum that dribbles out, creams his cock as he carries on. “Fuck,” he pants, gnaws against the chain of the stupid clamps like he can’t bare this any longer. “Love you,” he says, though he’s still stuck in that mindset from before and his sweet confession sounds more like a threat. “L-Love that childish side of you,” he confesses, finally dropping the chain— much to your relief —and surging forward to kiss you on the mouth. He tastes weirdly metallic, a thought you can’t ponder too long as he continues ramming himself past your clenched lips and into your pussy. “Your fffucking dr-drive to succeed,” he grunts, mouth smushed uncomfortably against your cheek.

“Kook, sweetheart,” you shudder, sensitive pussy spent as he drills on. His cock is still so achingly hard, and he doesn’t seem anywhere near completion. “Take it easy,” you gently remind him, can’t brush your fingers through his hair like you usually would, so you settle for pressing your lips to his cheek.

“Fuck, fuck,” he heaves, pushing so deep you practically feel him in your womb, swollen mushroom head begging for entry. “Give me it all,” he stammers, “want you—want this forever.”

“I know you do, baby,” you coo, nuzzling your nose against his when he sloppily surges forward, panting and gasping over you like a crazed caveman. “I’m yours,” you gently remind him.

“No,” he chokes out hoarsely, eyes screwed shut. “Need more, all of it,” he mumbles. “Give me yourself, ___, need you for the rest of my life—“ he cuts himself off with a shuddered whine, so airy and wispy it makes you shiver. “Ffffuck, shit,” he howls, each thrust into your walls only unraveling him more and more. “Give me, give me—“

“Anything,” you whimper, body trembling from his excessivity. “What do you want, Kook-ah?”

He says nothing, losing himself in the warmth of your pussy as his orgasm rounds the corner. He’s in the final stretch, the final straight until achieving nirvana alongside you at the finish line. And, as you’ve long since come to understand, a true Jungkook Danger Zone. He loses all sense of self, random syllables and phrases slipping through his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, marry me— marry me,” he moans, snapping his hips into you with a ferocious speed that has you bouncing against the sheets, and that’s despite the tight grip his has on you. “Let me— fuck— let me fuck a baby into you, sweetheart,” he purrs, eyes shining like an absolute psycho, but you’re apparently into that because the idea squeezes around your chest and burrows it’s way in. “A baby,” he marvels like an idiot, eyes big and sparkly, “f-fuck.”

“Wh-What?” you choke, flinching when he bites down against your lower lip. He’s got you trapped beneath him, stuffing your brain with these ideas that make your heart enter cardiac arrest, body tingling like in Mario Kart when you’ve got the star power up. “Kook—“

“Sh,” he groans, digging his fingers into your sides as he rolls his hips against you. “Almost,” he informs you, but the blood rushes to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he pants, jaw clenching, “oh, baby.”

Jungkook cums with a shivered cry, body hunching over you like some entity has just exited out of his spine. Maybe something did, because afterwards he manages to hold himself above you for exactly three seconds before dropping the entirety of his hefty muscles onto you. “Ouch,” you whine, wrists twisted uncomfortably beneath you.

“Sorry,” he huffs, completely out of breath and dazed as he rolls away from you. He ends up spread out like a starfish beside you, completely fucked out and definitely zooming through the fifth, sixth, and seventh dimensions.

He doesn’t say anything for a hot minute, chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon, until you butt in. “Kook. Undo me,” you remind him.

He looks over at you, dark hair falling over his eyes and sprawling around his head like a halo. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “Oh,” he says, like his brain has just processed the information. “Right.” He sits up, tucking himself back into the shorts he never fully took off. That was his character flaw; never bothers to get completely naked during sex. Anyway, his straight male-equivalent of booty shorts come up around his thighs again, stretching sinfully across the thick muscles.

The five sonnet poem that was gearing up in your head comes to a halt when he touches your breast. “No, no more,” you cry, instinctively withering away.

Jungkook snorts. “I’m just taking them off, baby,” he says, reaching forward again with the same practiced ease you’d use on an animal. The clamps come off, all the nerves suddenly coming back to life. It’s a weird sensation, not having your tits subject to that prickling pain anymore, and it makes you moan softly. Jungkook soothes you with his wannabe masseuse hands, but you think it’s just an excuse for him to fondle your breasts.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks gently, hovering over you like a damned surgeon or something. His voice is so silky and smooth, hands soft against your chest. He’s so careful in the way he turns you over, somehow magically producing the tiny key pick you swore was lost between the sheets after its first use.

Being on your chest makes you tremble like a leaf, the faintest brush of the cotton against your tits enough to make your pussy clench weakly. “ I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, carefully detailing his actions like you’re not watching him with your very own eyes. But it’s oddly comforting, having him walk you through the process of rolling your sore wrists. The inside of the cuffs had a plush lining, but it was a pretty cheap thing. After he’s done massaging the skin, he pads over to his dresser and returns with a shirt and undies for you. “Shirt,” he says, helping you into the clothing.

When you’re all snuggled under the sheets again, the television still loud as hell, he mumbles, “wanna talk about it?”

You exhale against his chest, feeling so light and fluttery from your orgasms and the way he runs his fingers through your scalp and the way his heart thunders by your ear. “Hm,” you hum pensively. “Nah. Think I’m fine now,” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles. “A full miracle recovery?” he teases. You nod, taking in the comforting scent of his fabric softener and just him in his entirety.

“Yep.” A beat of silence, the commentator is back to filling the space between you two. He talks about a mile minute, spewing stats and plays you could never understand in a thousand years. But you know Jungkook will get sucked in soon enough, so you strike while the pot is hot. “Do you wanna talk?”

He cranes his neck a little to look at you. “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up to look at him straight on. “Oh, my mistake,” you drawl. “I seem to have missed the part where we were going to act like you didn’t just ask for my hand in marriage and then offered to get me pregnant—,” you pause, the realization suddenly hitting you like a trash can whipping down a hill on a rainy day at a thousand miles per hour. “Pregnant!” you exclaim, cheeks warm at the fact he really just said that to you.

Jungkook’s cheeks fare no better, a Flaming Hot Cheeto shade dusting his skin. “I, it was just…” he tries, poor tiny monkey brain working overtime to offer an excuse. “It-it doesn’t have to be a thing,” he blushes, big Bambi eyes flickering from you to the television to the heart-tipped riding crop by the foot of the bed. “I was just…”

You raise your brows. “Consumed by the spirit of King Henry IV to have fourteen kids?”

He blinks. “Wait, you actually paid attention to that film?”

“That’s not the point!” you exclaim, shifting onto your knees in front of him. “What,” you inhale sharply, heart beating wildly in your chest, “what was that?”

Jungkook can only play the shocked angel card for so long before he’s sinking back into his pillow stack with the sigh of a man who’s worked in construction for the last sixty-four years. “I just,” he mumbles, “I think about it sometimes.” His admission makes your heart lodge itself into your throat, wide eyes watching him spill out his heart to you.

He misreads the expression on your face. “I-Not now!” he hurries to explain. “Like,” he stammers, rosy hue slowly crawling down his neck, over his ears. “Maybe, y’know? In the future…”

You blink, brain reduced to a series of beeps and clicks like that of an old computer trying to compute information that is simply not processing. “Yeah…” you murmur, unsure of what to do with the film reel that suddenly flashes before your eyes, a look into a doorway you had never considered before. “I— me too.”

Jungkook chokes on his own saliva. “Really?” he yelps, has those sparkly anime girl eyes you always tease him about.

The gulp you do sounds loud in your ears. “Yeah,” you breathe, throat drier than the desert, but more confident than the first peabrain response. “I-I’d like that.”

There’s a bright beam of light that shines right in your face, so vibrant and dazzling it makes you flinch and by the time you’ve recovered you realize it’s his smile. “Yeah?” Jungkook mumbles back, pearly teeth framed by his pretty smile, brows raised at your stuttery confirmation. You nod. His lips twist into a smaller grin, a condensed version of the superstar one he gave you just moments before. Before you can brush it off with a joke, he’s snatching your hand up in his, a soft smooch pressed to your knuckles. “Okay,” he says quietly, dark eyes meeting yours. “One day?”

Your heart constricts in your chest, and all you can do is nod. “One da—“

“Goooooaaaaallllll!” the announcer on screen shrieks, the loud sounds of the TV killing your mood instantly.

Any dumbstruck, love struck, idiotic, ditzy expression on your face is wiped clean, replaced with an unimpressed glare you narrow on him. His nose is scrunched up like he wants to laugh, lips pressed into a thin line at your annoyance. He swipes the TV remote off the side table, arms spread open for you to crawl back into. You do so with a huff, pout smushed against the front of his hoodie.

“That’s enough ESPN for today,” he chuckles, switching the channel about a thousand times until Rick and Morty is playing on screen. “I’ll just watch the highlights later.”

“ESPN,” you scoff like an evil villain in a movie who’s just been presented with their mortal enemy, fisting the front of his hoodie.

Jungkook nods. “ESPN,” he repeats. A beat passes. “Kinda like BDS—“

“Go get your ice pack.”

epilogue

Because Jungkook couldn’t sit still for that one eventful night following his ladder injury, he ends up in a medical boot for one week, loudly clunking around the place like a reverse pirate. You snap a picture of him that you post on Twitter for your twelve followers to see, just him pouting at the doctor’s office with his new boot and club jersey on to celebrate last night’s victory.

It’s just a cute pic for you and your friends to laugh at.

Until it’s not, and his handsome face is circulating around the entire internet.

He’s being called the Face of FC Seoul, with desperate women messaging you left and right for his information. Other fans are bragging about the beauty that is an FC Seoul fanboy. It gets to the point where his face appears on the next night’s ESPN Nightly Recap, a special on social media stars posting about the game. Except Jungkook is neither a social media star nor did he even post about the game— you did.

But there he is, all five feet and ten inches of him smiling brightly at you from the ESPN Sports channel, wearing the boot he got from hand cuffing and whipping you to completion.

#goldenclosetnet #bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #bts smut #mine

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nerdyfangirl67 · 4 years ago

Text

Are You Going to Kiss Me or Not - Criminal Minds Reader Insert

Pairing: Hotch x fem!reader

Word count: 1660

Warnings: mild language, slightly steamy kiss scene

Reader is done waiting around for one Aaron Hotchner to decide whether or not he is interested.

A/N: This came to me one day on my way to work, after listening to the Thompson Square song “Are You Gonna Kiss Me or Not”. Since this fic is inspired by the song, it will be related, in some ways, to the song’s lyrics. I admit, it did get away from me and I’m not entirely sure how much I like the middle part. I hope y’all enjoy it regardless! Next up is a POTO work, so stay tuned for that :)

The words start to blur across the page as you try to read the document, again, for the third time. And just like before, a couple of sentences in your attention wanders from the page to the large window of Aaron’s office. Your eyes immediately find him where he is hunched over his desk, his hand moving furiously as he burns through the stack of paperwork taking up his desktop. You were glad you were the last one in the bullpen and no one was there to witness your hopelessly longing stares you had been sending Aaron’s way.

“Screw it.” You murmur, pushing away from your desk before striding towards Aaron’s office. You knock hard twice and wait for him to call you in. Once he does, you push open the wooden door and take a few steps into the office. You watch as Aaron finishes scrawling out something on the paper in front of him before he lifts his head.

“Y/L/N?” He asks in surprise. “What are you still doing here?”

You shrug your shoulders, not really sure yourself why you had stayed hours after leaving time to ‘work’ on paperwork. Deep down though, you knew it was because you hadn’t wanted to leave Aaron to another long night of paperwork. “I could ask you the same thing.” You quip back, causing an almost unnoticeable lift in one of his eyebrows as he gives you a look.

The room is quiet for a moment, the two of you staring into each other’s eyes. You’re saying more with your eyes than you had ever said out loud to him, showing him how you truly felt. His brown eyes were filled with something akin to longing and you had to fight the urge to take his face in your hands and kiss him. You break eye contact as you make your way to one of the chairs in his office.

“I was thinking of calling it a night and thought maybe you might want to do the same.” You pause before quickly adding, “Or maybe you’d want to get a drink together.” You hope that despite the hour, he would feel as desperate to spend time with you as you were to spend time with him.

“I don’t think that is such a good idea.” He answers, his eyes only meeting yours briefly before he looks out the window overlooking the bullpen.

“Some other time then.” You say, feeling a rush of disappointment as he turned down your offer.

His eyes meet yours now as he says, “I don’t think that any time would be good.”

“Oh, well whenever you want to get a drink with a friend, just let me know.” You say, somewhat dejectedly, not sure why he was being so standoff-ish. “You’re a good friend.” You add quietly.

“I think you and I both know that that isn’t what this is.” He responds. “And I think that you and I also know that whatever this is, it can’t happen.” You open your mouth to argue otherwise, despite the fact that what he was saying was true, but he cuts you off.

“Good night Agent Y/L/N.” His voice has a biting edge to it as he returns to his paperwork, effectively ending the conversation. His apparent rejection has your heart seizing in your chest and your throat tightening against the rising sob in your chest. You turn and run out of his office, only stopping in the bullpen to grab your jacket and purse, not wanting Aaron to see you cry, especially when it was over him.

The drive home passes in a blur as you try to keep the falling tears from blocking your vision. You somehow make it back to your apartment without getting into an accident. You tiredly unlock your apartment, dropping your purse and jacket by the door before locking it back up. You don’t even have it in you to get ready for bed, instead opting to just take off your shoes and crawl into bed. You don’t get much sleep that night, the stress and anxiety of possibly having ruined your relationship with Aaron weighing down on you. When your alarm goes off the next morning, you know that there is no way you were going to be able to make it through work, let alone face Aaron after what happened last night. You send Penelope a quick text saying you weren’t feeling well and would be staying home.

Later that evening, after a day of feeling sorry for yourself, you are lying on the couch, listening to some random podcast that has been playing on the radio, when a knock sounds on your apartment door. You let out a heavy sigh as you get up, not really excited by the idea that someone was at your door at this time of night. You open the door, ready to tell off whoever it was, but all words leave your mouth when you see that one Aaron Hotchner was standing in your doorway.

His eyes meet yours briefly before they scan over your body, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He wordlessly steps past you to the inside of your apartment, his hand catching yours as he passes you, a finger straying to caress your wrist. You slowly close the door, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall and the emotions that were rising to the surface before turning your attention to him. You watch him, watching you, for a long time, taking in the smallest details of his appearance; his dark hair, slightly disheveled, his white dress shirt without his characteristic tie and the top few buttons undone, and a tired expression on his face.

You couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Aaron Hotchner, are you going to kiss me or not?” You burst out, hands on your hips as you focus your gaze on him. He didn’t say anything as he continues to stare at you, his dark brown eyes boring into yours. His silence infuriates you further and causes you to throw your hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Damnit Aaron.” It wasn’t often that you used solely his first name, only doing so when a situation caused you to be enraged or terrified, and you felt a little of both at the moment. You were so upset at his apparent disinterest in what you were saying, what you were asking of him. And you were terrified that it meant he didn’t feel the same for you.

“I like you a lot. In fact ... I might actually be in love with you.” It came spilling out, everything that you had been keeping to yourself for months and you couldn’t stop yourself once you’d started. “I’ve felt this way for a while, a long while. And I think you know, or at least a part of you does.” You pause, wondering if maybe you had been reading too much into the longing looks and the lingering ‘accidental’ touches, but you decide since you had gone this far, you wouldn’t back out now.

“Aaron, I’m not going to wait around forever for you to decide.” You soften your voice, pausing for a long moment to let what you said sink in, before you ask him again. “So, are you going to kiss me or not?” He is moving before you even finish talking, reaching you in only a matter of steps. His large, rough hands come to rest on either side of your face, cupping your face in a gentle manner that contrasted heavily to the urgency in his movements. He brings your face up to his, bending until he is able to reach your lips.

The kiss is soft, almost tentative, as if Aaron isn’t quite sure of what he was doing himself, as if he was going to pull away at any moment. You kiss him back fervently, worried that he was going to back away. You find yourself getting lost in the feeling of his hands on your face and his body brushing up against yours, the euphoria you feel over finally getting to kiss him flooding through your body.

You are the one to finally pull back, your need for air overcoming your want to kiss him. He rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as the two of you catch your breath. “That was...” You murmur, a languid smile growing on your face. You catch a glimpse of the mischievous spark in his eyes as he mumbles out an incoherent reply, right before he seizes your lips with his.

Where the first kiss had been safe and reserved, this one was passionate and frenzied. In the heat of the moment, Aaron backs you up against the wall of the living room in your apartment and his hands are everywhere; on your face, your hips, in your hair, sliding down your back. He breaks off the kiss before resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ve waited years to do that.” He whispers, his voice rough with need. “And it was better than I ever could have imagined.” His soft brown eyes, twinkling with emotion, meet yours.

“You better get used to it, Hotchner.” You say, a surge of confidence washing over you. “Because I’m definitely going to do that again.” You press a light kiss on his lips before wrapping your arms around his waist in a tight hug. His strong arms bring you infinitesimally closer, one of his hands coming to tuck your head in against his chest. “Good.” He murmurs his warm breath fanning across your neck. “I look forward to it.”

His words cause a smile to grow on your face as you relish in, finally, being able to feel his arms around you. You were certainly glad you finally decided to ask Aaron Hotchner if he was going to kiss you because it clearly paid off.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds hotch #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotchner #aaron x reader #aaron hotcher x reader #Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner reader insert #criminal minds reader insert #aaron hotchner x fem!reader

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mxxnlitwonders · 4 years ago

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c’mon pretty boy — miya atsumu

✎ gender. uhm neutral? but female parts are used ✎ contains. pegging, dom!reader, aka atsumu’s a little bratty :3c but i didnt focus on it that much, degradation and praising (giving), oral (giving and receiving), face-riding, little bit of edging, aftercare!!!, bad grammar (i think i switched between tenses hng) ✎ wc. 5.8k (im so sorry)

✎ summary. you’ve always been more of a switch, and you really want to, well, switch, things up. It’ll just take some convincing when it comes to your dear boyfriend.

✎ ameris’ notes. repost from my other blog! owo lil special thanks for nidae back when they helped me a bit with this fic <3

The shatter of the mug echoed through the kitchen, but your form stayed still, sipping your cup of coffee as you stared at Atsumu’s appalled face across the room. His hands frozen and the back of his head still facing you.

“What?” He nearly murmured, turning to face you.

Gently and calmly, you set the cup on the table as you uncrossed your legs. Perhaps you should have waited for Atsumu to sit at the table across from you, but what’s done is done.

Eyeing the remains of the mug on the floor, you stood back up to meet Atsumu’s brown eyes.

“I wanna peg and dom you,” you said again, then pointed to the mess on the floor. “Also you’re cleaning that up.”

Atsumu grimaced, “Hell no.” Carefully, he tiptoed around the shattered pieces to grab a broom and dustpan to clean it up. He was thankful that the mug wasn’t filled with coffee yet.

“Oh, come on, it’ll be fun!” You grinned at him as you leaned against the kitchen counter, resting your chin on your hand. He crouched down to pick up the pieces but gave you a wary side glance.

Atsumu knew that your eyes were on him like a hawk. The two of you guys were together long enough that you knew his every tell. And he knew it. Sometimes, you knew him better than you knew yourself. You were there for him for most of his life, from losing to Karasuno at Nationals during second year, to the falling out you two had in third year, to reconnecting a year after graduation, and finally to when he got scouted by the MSBY Black Jackals when he finally asked you out.

The point is, Atsumu knew that you knew he wasn’t opposed to the idea of you taking control in the bedroom. And he knew you knew that he knew.

“What size do you want?” You asked the setter, already scrolling through an adult sex toy website on your phone.

“I never said I wanted to get pegged,” Atsumu replied, standing back up to throw the remains away. He had to walk past you to toss it into the trash and suddenly he became more and more aware of the predatory gaze you had on him.

Biting your bottom lip, you set your phone down and trailed your eyes over his broad shoulders, to his slim waist (at least compared to the rest of him), and his ass. Atsumu’s thighs were nice too, no doubt, except with the gray sweatpants he had on it was hard to admire. But damn, did you want to ruin him.

Slowly you walked up to your boyfriend and as he turned to face you, suddenly surprised by your presence, you set your hands on his hips, your eyes settling on his chest before going up to his eyes. Atsumu swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing along. Your lust-filled eyes almost scaring him.

Your hands squeezed his hips, bringing him closer to you. A smirk made its way onto your face when you felt his hardened length against you.

“Yeah, but I think you like the idea of it, don’t you?” Leaning up with your breath ghosting over his ear you whispered, “You’d love getting fucked in the ass and you’d love being a good boy, just for me, wouldn’t you, baby?” You made sure to grind into his hips when the last syllable left your mouth.

A low groan rumbled over Atsumu but you suddenly took a step back, an innocent smile on your face being the total opposite to the mood of what was happening just a few seconds ago.

For once, Atsumu swallowed his pride, knowing that you wouldn’t do anything without his explicit consent.

“Surprise me. On the size...” he murmured the last part, looking off to the side.

“Yay!” You cheered in an extremely jarring change of tone, immediately picking up your phone to continue to scroll through for a strap-on.

Atsumu huffed, slightly pissed off that you just left him hanging. Whatever, he’ll make you help him out. Leaving you to your own devices, he settled onto the couch and turned on the TV. That is, until you spoke up once more.

“In the meantime, do you want me to help you with your little problem?” You asked, your voice ever so slightly condescending. His cock strained against his sweatpants and Atsumu couldn’t help but shift around his pants, feeling ever so slightly uncomfortable. Especially with how your eyes rest on the obvious tent.

But you wanted to play around a bit, test the waters.

“Yeah baby, why don’t you help me out?” Atsumu smirked, trying to regain control only for him to slightly falter once he saw the frown on your face.

“Sorry baby,” you walked up to him, caressing his face to make him stare up at you, “only good boys get taken care of.” You ruffled his blonde hair before walking away. There was a little sway in your hips as you walked into your shared bedroom and Atsumu knew that he was so fucked. Literally.

Of course, he shut off the TV to quickly follow you into the bedroom, stumbling over himself on the way.

Atsumu’s presence could be described as large, to put it simply.

He’s a professional volleyball player for one thing, so he was taller than the average person. He’s more than fit too, with his broad shoulders and large thighs. Physically, he took up a lot of room. And even then, Atsumu was loud. His personality took up the entire room whenever he could.

So to see you staring down at him with a hunger in your eyes that he’s never seen before. Shit, for the first time in his life he’s felt small. And fuck does he like it. Loved it, even.

Not that he’ll ever admit it.

Not with the way you stood between his legs and how you tilted his chin to look up at you. God forbid he ever admits to being into this.

“Bet by the end of this, you’ll be so tired I’ll have to take care of you,” Atsumu smirked up at you but instead, your other hand pulled sharply on his hair, yanking him back. You bent down, your lips ghosting against his.

“If you keep acting like a brat I’ll make sure you don’t get to cum,” you scold, “only good boys get to cum.”

With that said, you shoved him back by his shoulders, causing him to fall onto the bed with a light plop. To Atsumu’s distaste, you walked away. But when he saw you grab the strap on and the lube that came with it? He could swear he felt his cock twitch in his sweats.

You set the items on the bed for easier access as you moved to straddle him. You purposely grinded down onto his already hard member and bent down to give him a soft, short kiss, only to move your lips away. You smirked, staring down at him with half-lidded eyes as he desperately tried to kiss your lips.

“Does my pretty boy want to kiss me?”

His hand moved from your hips to the back of your head but you immediately slapped it away, pinning the arm down beside his head as you glared.

“If you keep acting like a pathetic brat, you won’t cum at all tonight,” you threatened. “Just because of that keep your hands to yourself, okay? ‘Tsumu.” Atsumu’s breath hitched. You knew what kind of effect you had on him. You felt him subtly grind into your core just then, but you’d let it slide. After all, the way he was uncharacteristically quiet because of you made you feel a little bit too powerful.

Slowly, you trailed your hands down his chest, grazing over his nipples before playing with the hem of his shirt. Tapping Atsumu’s side, silently telling him you wanted to take it off, he shifted himself to make it easier and you quickly pulled off his shirt.

You took a deep breath, admiring him underneath you.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this.” And shit, Atsumu really did have a praise kink because all he wanted was for you to keep on complimenting him, praising him, to call him your pretty boy.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Atsumu smirked, his voice slightly wavering. He hoped you didn’t notice, you did.

“I could,” you replied, your hands slightly hovering over his chest, barely touching him, “I could touch myself, make myself cum as I stare at your pretty body. But that would mean you don’t get to cum. I don’t think you’d want that, would you?” Your hand slid down his abdomen, your finger tracing over the ‘v’ shape lines. You knew he wanted you to touch him, especially with the way he was pressing up into your core.

Wanting a little bit of relief yourself, you grinded down into him, a slight moan leaving both your and his mouth.

“Shit, st-stop fucking teasing!” Atsumu growled, tossing his head back slightly.

You clicked your tongue, “I give the orders here, baby. Not you.”

Climbing off of him, you gestured for him to move further back onto the bed to get into a more comfortable position. Atsumu sat there, watching you as you slowly took off your top and pants, leaving you bare with just a matching lace bra and panties. His favorite ones; the ones that he loved to tear off of you. And you knew it.

You moved onto the bed, the mattress dipping with your weight as you went to sit between his legs. Atsumu felt incredibly vulnerable with your gaze on the obvious tent in his sweatpants, but he felt safe, comfortable.

Your finger traced over the tent lightly, Atsumu rutting his hips up to get more of your touch but you quickly pulled your hand away. Instead, your hand dipped below his waistband, dragging down both his briefs and pants and tossed the clothes to the side, freeing his hard member as it slapped against his stomach. Trails of precum left on his stomach and Atsumu stared down at you, waiting for your touch.

“You look so pretty like this,” you sighed out, your hand finally wrapping around his hard cock, your thumb swiping over his red tip to spread the precum. Leaning up, you pressed your lips against his and he immediately reciprocated, pressing back even harder against you. You bit his bottom lip, causing him to groan as you continued stroking his cock, his hips ever so slightly thrusting into your fist. You slipped your tongue into his mouth before you pulled away, a string of saliva connected your mouth and Atsumu’s.

Your grip tightened as you stroked a little faster and a groan left his mouth, tossing his head back.

“Fuck, feels good,” he moaned out.

“Yeah, pretty boy?” You asked. Before Atsumu could reply, you ducked your head down, placing a languid kiss against his red tip. Then a small kitten lick against the beads of precum that gathered at the tip. Atsumu let out a choked moan, wanting more from you but he bit his lip, he wasn’t about to let you hear him beg, he knew he’d lose if he begged. But you weren’t about to lose either.

Slowly, you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock and moved your head down his shaft until you felt Atsumu hit the back of your throat. It was difficult taking all of him in your mouth, since Atsumu was on the larger side but it was easier now after a bit of practice.

Breathing through your nose, you hollow your cheeks and begin bobbing your head up and down his cock. Atsumu tried holding back his moans but when you slightly slapped his hip, he finally let out every pretty noise that was only for your ears. Your hands began stroking the parts of him that you couldn’t reach as your jaw began hurting. But you were determined to make Atsumu cum and with the way his thighs tensed and his moans getting louder as he pleaded for you to let him cum, you knew he was well on his way.

You take your mouth off of him, to his disappointment, but when your hand takes over, stroking him how he likes it all thought leaves his head.

“Your moans sound so pretty, baby,” you murmured against his lips before kissing him and swallowing his moans. You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your lips as he began thrusting up into your fist and with how he couldn’t focus on kissing you. Instead, he pulled away letting out a loud groan as he felt his peak approach.

Until you stopped your strokes and Atsumu let out the saddest of whines which made you want to spoil him. But you wouldn’t.

“Fuck, I was so close,” Atsumu panted.

“Gotta beg for it, baby, I don’t know how much you want to cum,” you replied. Atsumu scowled at you but you could only smile back at him, knowing exactly what you were doing. Especially with how you decided to wrap your hands around his hard cock again, slowly stroking up and down his shaft.

Atsumu let out more moans and he knew that you already won. He knew that you wouldn’t let him cum, would make him edge for the rest of the night and as much as he liked the idea of that, maybe it’d be better off if it was for another night.

Another night, meaning he was definitely going to let you do whatever you pleased to him again after this.

“Fuck,” he gasped out your name, feeling you speed up your strokes, your thumb swiping over his tip. He thrusted his hips up into your fist, felt his thighs tensing and his peak was coming close again. Faster this time as you had just edged him. Just as you were about to edge him once he finally let out the words you’ve been wanting to hear.”

“Let me cum, please, I—fuuuck—“ he choked on his words, letting out a loud, desperate groan. “‘S’close, I want to—want to cum.”

Knowing that was the best you were going to get out of him, for now, you continued stroking his hard member, your grip tightening just a little bit. You were sure to focus on giving his tip the attention it needed as well. And then his eyes rolled back into his head, a loud moan escaping his mouth that vaguely sounded like your name and spurts of white cum painted your hand and his stomach.

You stroked him through his orgasm, feeling his member slowly softening. When Atsumu put his hand on your wrist, trying to pull you away from him to prevent overstimulation, you smiled up at him.

“Good boy, you look so good cumming like that, ‘Tsumu. So pretty, all for me,” you leaned up to give him a chaste kiss. You pulled away, staring at him with half lidded eyes before kissing him again.

Atsumu lived for your kisses, with the way you were nibbling on his bottom lip to the way your tongue swiped into his mouth, how you slightly suckled on his tongue. If it was possible, he could live off of your kisses but he was only human, still in need of air and still trying to catch his breath from his orgasm. So he pulled away.

His brown eyes stared into yours, as you stared at him with innocent eyes. You brought your hand up to your lips, your tongue darting out to lick the cum that fell on your hand and you smiled.

“Always taste so good, baby,” you moved your hand towards him, telling him to lick what was left and he hesitantly did what he was told. Atsumu’s cock was already hardening once more from how dirty this was.

“So, are ya gonna fuck me already or what?” He asked, eyeing the strap-on that sat on the bed.

You clicked your tongue, “Gotta be patient baby. Besides,” you pushed him down gently onto the bed, stripping off your panties and bra before climbing to straddle his waist, “you’re gonna make me cum with your tongue, okay pretty boy?” Immediately, his hands went to caress your breasts but you slapped them away, pinning them beside his head.

“No touching until I say so,” you chastised Atsumu, “now make me cum or I’ll leave you exactly like this.” You reach back to lightly stroke his cock before pulling away, a frustrated groan leaving his mouth.

Before Atsumu could give you any type of remark, you had already climbed towards the top of the bed, settling your legs beside his head.

Atsumu stared up at your glistening folds, his hands already automatically trying to grab your hips to bring you down to his mouth. Repeating your actions from before, you were quick to swipe his hands away.

“Remember what I said, pretty boy,” you scolded. With that, he slowly set his hands back onto the bed, gripping the sheets and you lowered yourself onto his face. One of your hands buried in his hair and the other on the headboard.

Hesitantly, Atsumu licked his tongue through your folds from your entrance to clit, a pleased moan leaving his mouth as he tasted you and he was sure not to miss your gasp. You pull on his hair a little harder, slowly grinding your hips down on his mouth, following his tongue against your core.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing so-fuck!” you desperately cried out as he brought your clit into his mouth, suckling on it then going back to licking through your folds. Your grip on his hair tightens as you begin bucking your hips against him, breathy moans filling the room.

His tongue trails down from your clit to your entrance, thrusting in you as one of his hands moved to then replace his tongue. You’d be sure to punish Atsumu another time because fuck was he putting his mouth to good use for once. He slipped in two of his long, thick fingers into your wet hole that’s a mix of your slick and his own saliva. He moves his mouth back to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bud and suckling against it as his strong setter fingers stroked inside you, hitting that sweet spot inside of you so easily and so well.

“Fuck, yes, I’m almost-” you felt the pressure in your core building up and your thighs tensing up. A desperate whine left your lips as you finally hit your climax. Atsumu stroked you through your orgasm, letting you ride his face until your grip on his hair loosened up and you slowly got off of him.

A sense of pride and admiration flowed through you as soon as you saw your slick coat the sides of his mouth and chin. Sitting slightly up, Atsumu grinned at you as he placed his fingers into his mouth, sucking and cleaning his fingers of your juices before pulling them out with a ‘pop’.

Grasping him by the back of his head, you pulled him towards you, placing a passionate kiss against his mouth. Your tongue stroking his lips before he parted to let you taste yourself against him. Atsumu moaned against you when one of your hands moved to twist one of his nipples between your fingers.

You pulled away, a smirk very apparent on your face as he flushed red, “So you like that more than you let on, huh.” You recalled the few times you’ve given his nipples attention in the past, him often pulling your hand away but he’d always bring you into a kiss right away instead. Probably to hide his pink-tinted cheeks.

Atsumu pursed his lips before you moved to kiss his jawline, then began leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his neck, suckling here and there to leave marks. You made your way down his chest, making sure to lightly play with his nipples with your fingers until your lips found its way onto his chest. You pull the perked bud in between your lips, sucking and lightly nibbling. You stared up at Atsumu, who let out light, breathy moans with his eyes shut.

You pulled away, reaching over to grab the bottle of lube, the cap opening up with a click. Atsumu opened his eyes at the sound, then watched you closely. You patted his knees and Atsumu layed back on the bed, spreading his legs open.

“You alright?” You asked, watching as he seemed a bit uneasy.

Atsumu would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. On one hand, he wanted to prove that he could take your cock. On the other, he’s the one usually doing the fucking. But fuck he really, really, liked feeling like putty because of you.

He felt your hands caress his legs up to his waist, “Relax baby-” you kissed him at the crown of his head “-we can always stop if you’re uncomfortable.” But Atsumu shook his head with a huff.

“Can’t lose to you,” he argued. You lightly chuckled, knowing that was just a way for him to convince himself that you fucking him? Wasn’t going to make him less than. And if his conversations with Bokuto and Hinata in the locker room were any indication, he was clearly the one winning.

“Alright,” you grab one of the pillows on the bed, telling him to lift his hips as you slide it snuggly underneath him. You moved to sit between his legs, tapping on them.

“Hold yourself open, pretty boy,” you ordered softly. Atsumu placed his hands under his knees, spreading his legs open for you and watched as you stared down at his puckered hole. You traced your finger around it, Atsumu slightly jolte and you chuckled softly to place a kiss on his thigh, murmuring reassuring words to the man.

With the bottle of lube, you poured a generous amount on your fingers before moving to slowly insert a finger into his hole. You kissed his thigh again, asking Atsumu if he was alright.

“Y-yeah,” he breathed out. He was about to ask you to move but instead bit his tongue. The feeling of your finger in him was... Foreign, to say the least. But it wasn’t unwelcome. With the way you fingered him gently was different to how you’ve been treating him every now and then this past session.

“Ah-!” Atsumu gasped out in pleasure when you placed another finger into him, even pouring a bit of lube to help ease the stretch. You kissed him again, distracting him from any discomfort as you stretched him for what was to come. Your fingers stroked his insides, scissoring every so often to try to open him up wider.

You pulled away, glancing at his face to make sure he was alright before he told you to keep going. You smirked, kissing the tip of his nose before you went to kiss his chest once more, leaving dark red marks. He’d have to change quickly if he wanted to avoid any teasing from his teammates in the locker room.

Sliding one more finger into him, Atsumu moaned. You separated your mouth from his chest, smiling at the marks before staring up at him, your fingers sliding in and out much more easily as you spread him open.

“You like that baby?” You asked, leaning back to stare at him in all his glory. His cock was painfully hard, dripping with precum with an achingly red tip. With your free hand, you lightly stroked him before placing a languid kiss on his tip before sitting back up and pulling your hand away. “Okay, pretty boy, do you think you’re ready?”

Atsumu nodded his head, not trusting his voice. You kissed his thigh again before taking your fingers out, watching as his hole fluttered around nothing. Atsumu was about to let his legs down again but you held them both back.

“Be a good boy for me and keep yourself open, baby,” you told him then climbed off the bed to put on the strap on a little easier. Atsumu watched as you placed your legs through the harness, watching as the dildo hung from your hips as you snuggly put it on. Admittedly, you looked really good, to put it simply. And, he was glad you picked one that wasn’t too girthy but still somewhat long. It wasn’t too intimidating as you slid back onto the bed, grabbing the lube bottle once more to coat the dildo before tossing the bottle to the side.

You settled between his legs once more, your hands caressing his thighs before settling onto his hips.

“Just let me know if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” you said softly, as you stared down into his brown eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, just fuck me already,” Atsumu replied. You rolled your eyes, slapping his bare cheek. He was definitely ready but trying to hide his nerves. “Unless you’re too tired.”

You glare at him, already grabbing the dildo to place at his entrance and pressed your hips forward. Atsumu hissed which quickly turned into a moan as you slowly filled him up. You made sure to go slow, stopping every so often to rub soothing motions on his thigh and making sure he was alright. Each time he’d give you the go ahead you made sure to whisper him praises, telling him how much of a good boy he was being.

When your hips pressed into him, signaling that you were all the way in, you stilled.

“You’re so good for me baby, taking me all so well,” you murmured, leaning down to give him a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes were shut as he controlled his breathing. Atsumu was admittedly more nervous than he thought but he was enjoying this a lot more than he thought.

Opening his eyes to stare up into you, he shakily said, “You can move.”

Your eyes flickered over his face, trying to see if there was any discomfort or any part of him that was even lying to try to show that he could take you. Once you couldn’t find anything of the sort, you slowly pulled out, leaving just the tip in before gently pushing back in.

As you began to find a sort of rhythm, gradually going from gentle thrusts to rough thrusts, Atsumu lightly panted, purposely preventing himself from trying to let out any moans for your satisfaction.

With a newfound passion, you angled your hips to deliberately hit his prostate and finally you heard him let out a choked moan.

“Fu-fuck! Ah-baby please, I—fuuckk,” Atsumu dragged out the last words, tears gathering in his eyes as he held up his legs by the back of his knees a little more. Your hand gripped his hips harder, your nails surely leaving marks. Another hand sprawled on his chest, lightly scratching over his toned body and over his nipples.

With every sharp thrust into his desperate hole, hitting the spot that is making him see stars, his hard member slapped against his abdomen, leaving streaks of precum along with his previous orgasm. The tip of his cock was so red and pretty that you couldn’t help but move your hand down to lightly stroke it. Incoherent moans continued leaving his mouth as your thumb rubbed over his tip, spreading his precum more.

“Yeah? You look so fucking pretty like this,” you breathed out, groaning when a particular thrust just sucked you back in. “What a pretty boy, taking my cock so well. Who knew you could be a good boy.”

“Ahh- fuck!” his words bleeding into a moan as you gripped his cock a little tighter, stroking him a little faster. The sharp pain in his hips grew numb as you continued holding him up, thrusting harder. A satisfied laugh escaped your mouth as you felt him grind his hips up into you.

“You like this? Huh?” You asked, a condescending tone lacing around your tongue. “You like it when I fuck your tight hole so much that you’re holding your legs open. What a slut. My. Little. Slut.” Atsumu could feel his peak coming, the heat in his core building up and his thighs were shaking for the second time that night.

Atsumu bit the bottom of his lip, trying to hold back any moans. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of how he felt from hearing you talk to him like that. No, not at all. Nev—

A sharp pain against his ass cheek caused him to gasp out but you were quick to rub over the mark, soothing him.

“Don’t be a brat, come on pretty boy, let me hear your moans,” you rolled your hips into his and Atsumu knew he was close. So, so, so, close. “Or I won’t let you cum.” Your thrusts began to slow down and instead of pumping his cock like you were earlier, you gripped the base of his shaft.

“Fuuuuck, I’ll be good,” Atsumu caved in, begging so desperately, “I’ll be a good boy for you please, I need to cum.” He let go of his legs, immediately wrapping them around you instead to rut his hips into you. His hands sprawled beside his head as he turned to look to the side, too embarrassed at giving you full control.

“Good boy,” you murmured and began thrusting harder, faster into him. You intertwined your hand with his when you bent down, kissing the marks you’ve left on his chest. A smirk appeared on your face as you heard him moan. “My little prince.”

Atsumu’s other hand found its way onto your shoulder at the same time as your hand moving down to stroke his aching cock.

The two of you hissed at the same time; Atsumu for the added sensations and you as he dug his nails onto your back. There were definitely going to be marks left on your back but you didn’t mind. Not with the way Atsumu’s pretty face was scrunching up in pleasure, the desperate moans that left his mouth as he continued to try to meet each of your thrusts.

And—oh fuck—with his tongue hanging out from his mouth like he’d always do while playing on the court, shit. You felt like you could cum right there and then with the way his eyes rolled back into his head.

“Shit, ‘m gonna-” Atsumu let out a whine, unable to finish his sentence as he came all over you and his stomach. His legs tightened his hold around you and you slowed your thrusts with your hand stroking his cock, letting him ride out high.

When Atsumu’s legs loosened around you, you fully pulled out, watching as his chest heaved with every breath he took. You rubbed circles on his hips, especially over the marks left by your nails. The stinging on your back was still there, but you’d be sure to check them out tomorrow morning.

“Good boy,” you murmured, licking off the cum off your hand before leaning down to softly say against his lips, “Such a good fucking boy, just for me.”

You finally kissed him, tilting your head for a deeper kiss, running your hands up his sides as you continued giving him small praises against his lips before kissing him again. Finally pulling away, you admired your handiwork. The many marks left on his skin would surely make him the slightest bit mad, albeit jokingly (somewhat), tomorrow but damn did they look good on him.

“How was it?” You asked, smiling as you comfortably shifted back into your casual personality.

Atsumu let out a heavy sigh, tossing his head back against the bed, “ ‘Sgood.”

“Just good?” Atsumu brought his head up, glaring at you which made you laugh. This was as good as it was going to get but with that gleam in his eyes, you knew this wouldn’t be the last.

You lightly slap his thighs before moving off the bed and promptly taking off the harness, “Alright big boy, let's get you cleaned up. You weren’t uncomfortable at all?” Worry flickered through your eyes as you watched Atsumu push himself onto his arms. You sat beside him on the edge of the bed, interlocking your hands with him as you searched his face.

“No, I’m just surprised you had enough energy to fuck like that, thought you were more of a, well, pillow baby.”

You shrugged, “I just wanted to switch things up.” A grin made its way onto your face as Atsumu groaned, falling back onto the bed and letting go of your hand. You laughed as he threw insults at you for that terrible pun, getting up to grab a few wet and warm towels to wipe him down. You also set the water for the bath as well before heading back to help clean him up.

As the two of you prepared for the night an hour later, with Atsumu resting his head on your chest as you ran your hands gently through his surprisingly soft, blond hair, you asked him if he’d want to do it again.

Silence filled the room until Atsumu lifted his head to look up at you.

“If ya wanted to fuck me that badly you could just ask y’know,” he replied smugly. You placed your hand on his face, shoving him away but his grip around your torso tightened, trying to keep you close to him.

“Agh, okay okay, fine stop pushin’ me,” Atsumu protested trying to lick your hand to get you to stop. You pulled your hand away (not because of his childish antics), wiping your hand on his shirt with a sigh.

He rests his head against your chest once more, “But, fine. I... wouldn’t mind it.” He whispered the last part into your chest.

You hummed lightly, the corner of your lips turning up, returning your hand to thread it through his locks. Now you had something to look forward to and damn were you glad that you saw that one notification on his phone. The one with his shared chat with Hinata, Bokuto, and Sakusa. And specifically the notification about Bokuto directly addressing Atsumu about how “he’s always wanted to try pegging, too.”

You’d have to thank Bokuto later.

***

“Babe, are you kidding me?” Atsumu shouted from the bedroom. You raised your brow, sipping your coffee before setting it down on the dinner table to walk into the shared room.

Upon walking into the room, Atsumu was staring at himself through the mirror, his shirt through his arms but the rest of the torso bare and you could tell he was getting ready for his morning run. But what surprised you when walking in was the actual amount of hickies and marks you left over his chest with a few coupled on his neck.

He turned his head quickly towards you, his blond hair swaying a bit.

You sheepishly grinned with a shrug, “Oops?”

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader smut #haikyuu smut #miya atsumu x dom!reader #miya atsumu x dom!reader smut #miya atsumu x you #atsumu x you #mxxn.writes #🌙.pegging #🌙.edging #🌙.degradation #🌙.praising #🌙.femdom #💙.atsumu

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soundwavereporting · 4 years ago

Text

a coswave first date fic ft. miscommunication and cultural differences

“Hello Cosmos.”

“Uh, hi.” Cosmos looked down at his maybe-friend-slash-definitely-landlord, who was staring back at him, unreadable as always.

They lingered in silence for a moment.

“You called?” Cosmos managed, finally. While Soundwave’s hospitality certainly didn’t feel like a farce, this was the third time he had asked Cosmos to help him during his off-shift.

First, it had been installing an energon dispenser in one of the habsuite blocks. The next time, he and Soundwave had spent half the night planning the station’s duty roster for the next month.

“It is good to see you.”

“You too.” Already feeling uncomfortable, Cosmos shifted in place, feeling the sting of the finally-healed welds on his armor.

“So…” Cosmos said, after another moment of awkward silence. “You needed help with something.”

Soundwave nodded. “Your assistance: greatly appreciated.”

“Sure.” Cosmos wasn’t entirely certain how much he believed Soundwave. He was happy enough to help out, but there was just something so strange in the way Soundwave looked at him, as though he expected him to do something other than pull up a seat next to Soundwave and pick up a datapad.

Soundwave pushed an energon cube over to Cosmos, who cracked the seal and gave it an experimental sniff.

“You got the refinery fixed?”

“Affirmative.” Soundwave seemed to sit up a little straighter. “However, there is now a shortage of spare parts.”

“I can make a trip to Cybertron,” Cosmos said, without thinking. It wasn’t like there was anyone left on Cybertron who would care one way or another if he showed up, but it also meant Cosmos wouldn’t be pressured to return to active duty with the Autobots—or worse, stay on Cybertron with King Starscream or whatever he was calling himself lording over everyone.

Besides, it would be good to get off the station. Even after the few short weeks he had spent recuperating from Galvatron’s attack, Cosmos had already begun to feel like the station’s walls were closing in on him. He didn’t think he would need to leave so soon, but…

“I haven’t been cleared for active duty yet,” Cosmos said, almost apologetically, but there wasn’t a reason for him to feel bad. Was there? Soundwave had told him he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted. Cosmos, riding on the heady combination of pain suppressors and adrenaline, had just nodded. He was very sure that once Optimus called him back to the Ark, the invitation would be rescinded.

But Optimus hadn’t called him back. Personally, Cosmos thought he had been doing a good job of ignoring that fact, and was immediately irritated with himself for thinking of it. He had hoped the relative quiet and tentative peace between the Autobots and the humans and the Decepticons would have

Or maybe he wanted Cosmos to reach out first. Which would be weird. He probably had other things to worry about. That was it. Cosmos archived the thought.

“You should not push yourself,” Soundwave said, as though he hadn’t asked Cosmos to help him install an energon dispenser in a habsuite just last week.

“Yeah,” Cosmos said. “About that.”

There was a quick beat of silence before Cosmos realized Soundwave wasn’t going to interrupt. He still hadn’t gotten used to the mech’s apparent willingness to listen to him. If he was being entirely honest, most of the Decepticons on the station were generally willing to listen to him—bad jokes from the birds aside.

“I’m a little confused about…this.” Cosmos gestured lamely to the datapads on Soundwave’s desk. “It’s not that I don’t mind helping you out—I really don’t. But, uh, why me? If I’m not doing enough around the station, I can pick up another shift, but I feel like you have better things to do with your time than spending your evening with me going through paperwork—not that I mind spending time with you. I just…don’t see the point?”

Soundwave stared at him.

Cosmos felt his spark sink, and he wasn’t sure why.

“Clearly, there was a misunderstanding.”

“Clearly.” Cosmos wished the itching on his welds would stop. “About what, though?”

“Soundwave thought…” Soundwave trailed off, gripping one datapad so tightly Cosmos feared the screen might crack. “Soundwave: believed these meetings were the start of courtship.”

It was Cosmos’ turn to stare.

His systems stalled as his processor struggled to make sense of what his audio receptors had clearly heard.

“Misunderstanding,” Soundwave repeated, clearly desperate for Cosmos to say something. “Clearly. Soundwave: apologizes.”

Cosmos hadn’t failed to notice the flood of unease that teeked Soundwave’s field—and he had no doubt that Soundwave could feel his shock.

“Autobots do not date?” Soundwave sounded genuinely surprised.

“Not like this.” Cosmos tried to think back to the few dates he had been on over the course of the war. There had been stops at the dispensary, a kiss in a hallway that had been ruined because someone had noticed them, awkward flirtations between him and his on-ship contact that ran their course a year before he ever returned to base. “You thought we were dating?”

Soundwave nodded glumly. “My assumption was clearly incorrect.”

Cosmos laughed. He forced himself to set down the cube.

“Dating?” He said. “Me?”

“Affirmative.”

“Is this a Decepticon thing?” Cosmos asked. “Like how every Decepticon is required to memorize Megatron’s poetry before they receive their badge? We sit down and do paperwork together?”

“Laserbeak, Buzzsaw: lying.” Soundwave said, but continued before Cosmos could feel properly irritated at the birds. “Soundwave: made incorrect assumption that Cosmos was familiar with c—” Soundwave stopped, and didn’t seem to be able to say the word a second time. “Precursors to romantic relationships.”

“Excuse me for not thinking organizing a schedule was very romantic,” Cosmos said, then immediately regretted it when Soundwave winced.

“Apologies.” Soundwave looked like he was one wrong word away from running out of his own office.

“No—wait.” Before he could move, Cosmos reached out and grabbed Soundwave’s arm. He felt Soundwave stiffen under his touch. “Crap. I’m sorry for saying that. I was just, uh, surprised. It was rude. But you were asking me out on a date? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Okay. Look, I’m not—I’m not upset?” Cosmos didn’t think he was upset. Irritated, yes, at not noticing it earlier, irritated that Soundwave hadn’t brought it up until now, but not…upset. Probably. “It’s a little flattering, I guess.”

Was it? Entirely aware that Soundwave was pointedly staring anywhere but him, Cosmos studied Soundwave. The mech wasn’t bad looking, and if he was being honest, it wasn’t as though Cosmos hadn’t thought about it. It was just very, very far down on the list of possibilities.

And he liked spending time with Soundwave—not just because Soundwave apparently liked listening to him talk. He had seen hints of a quiet, earnest energy hidden beneath Soundwave’s normally stoic nature that surfaced on the rare occasions he strung more than two sentences together.

“Why don’t we go out for drinks?” The words were out before Cosmos could think about them properly. “You know. To get to know each other better.”

“Romantic…drinks?” Soundwave spoke as though the idea was entirely foreign to him.

“Yeah.”

Wordlessly, Soundwave gestured to the cube resting in front of Cosmos.

“Oh. Oh.” He hadn’t thought himself prone to nervous laughter, but for the second time that day, Cosmos laughed. “Yeah, I guess that counts.”

Before he could second guess himself, Cosmos removed his battlemask and downed the cube in one go, desperate to buy a minute to think. He set down the empty cube.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“Soundwave…is Soundwave.”

Cosmos waited.

“Third in command of the Deceptico—” He imagined Soundwave frowning before correcting himself. “Former third in command of the Decepticons. Founder of Sanctuary Station.”

Cosmos supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything else.

“Request: Cosmos shares information.”

“Right. Uh, I’m…Cosmos, obviously. Currently serving directly under…Arcee, I guess, since Prowl’s gone. No one ever really cleared that up. Um. That’s…about it.”

“Unfortunate.”

“Hah. Yeah. I bet you guys didn’t have people up and leaving your side unexpectedly.”

“You would be surprised.” Soundwave indicated his head at the datapads. He seemed to relax incrementally, and Cosmos found himself doing the same.

“So.” Cosmos said a moment later. “When we first met…you said you had good hearing.”

“You remembered that.”

“It wasn’t exactly forgettable,” Cosmos admitted. “What did you mean by that?”

The ensuing moment of silence was awkward but…not as awkward as it had been earlier. Cosmos decided to count that as a win.

“Soundwave requests…” Soundwave trailed off. “Explanation be rescheduled to the second date.”

“Second date, huh.” Despite himself, Cosmos felt the hint of a smile beneath his faceplate. “Since the first one went so well?”

“If Cosmos is willing.”

“I think I am. Maybe after I get back from Cybertron?”

“Soundwave: would like that.”

Besides, Cosmos thought with a small amount of relief, there was something comforting about dating someone who also had a battlemask.

#coswave #transformers #mine;#soundwave #cosmos #idw #exrid #(technically set pre-prowlcoswave but. you don't need to read that au to read this ;;)#((it will go on ao3 when i think of a title))

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aerialflight · 4 years ago

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Fic Recs (cause it's always nice to give a shout out and get people into things I'm into rn)

[The Magnus Archives] (I recently finished the podcast and I fell into a hole for a while so here you go)

Sing a Song of Sixpence by Kaiel

Ship: Jon/Martin

In which Jonathan Sims is a Siren, and he fails to notice any new abilities granted to him by the position of Archivist. Or really anything about the Entities at all.

Takes place in season 1 featuring Jonah Magnus’s slow decent into madness

(The new mythology interwoven with tma's worldbuilding is so freaking good and I love how all the characters change and develop because of these changes. Also, f you Elias)

Along Came a Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Ship: implied Jon/Martin

Sasha James is the Archivist, as expected. Martin Blackwood is menaced by Jane Prentiss, as expected. Elias Bouchard weaves his web, as expected.

All goes as it should.

At least until something calling itself Jonathan Sims steps in.

(Web!Jon in this makes me want to weep, it's so freaking good. A pretty long, very excellent oneshot on what could've happened if Jon got taken by the web when he was a kid. And Sasha as the Archivist is ALWAYS so cool, we love her in this house.)

A Break in the Clouds by Ash_Rabbit

“I’m eight.” the kid sniffs as if eight was any different from four, maybe not an unspeakable horror then, just a regular horror. “And I heard that the Magnus Institute deals with-” his little nose scrunches, cute. “-spooky things.”

“Do you have a-” he cracks a grin, and then rethinks it as small hands tighten against their burden.”-spooky thing to deliver?” gods he hopes not, it’s bad enough when adults walk in and lay out all of their baggage, but for a child-

“There’s a spider in this book.” the kid says solemnly, raising his textbook sized parcel. “It ate Evan Pritchard.” a bloody fucking Leitner. Of course an eight year old would find a murder spider book. “This seemed like the best place to bring it.”

(I never thought about what the Original Elias could've been like AND NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT BECAUSE OF THIS FIC. I LOVE HIM, HE'S COMPLEX AND HE CARES AND JON CARES AND THEY BOTH CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. THIS IS THE CONTENT I WANT, OMG. Also, Jon being even smaller than usual is adorable, so cute. No wonder Elias wants to hug him, a LOT.)

See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World

Ship: Jon/Martin, Jon/Oliver Banks

When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.

(One of my all time fave fics in this fandom, no questions asked. I have reread this three times and am open to doing it again, god. Vast!Jon, such a concept. It's written so beautifully and the relationships Jon develops, so good. ugh. My heart. Please please read.)

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Ship: Jon/Martin

“Come in, Martin,” he says, not looking up from his notes.

“Hi, Jon,” he says, and Jon stops writing at the sound of his voice. “We’re out of the green tea, but we’ve got lemon?”

Jon looks at him. Martin smiles at him in his usual tentative way as he sets the mug of tea down on Jon’s desk. Heat spikes so sharply in his gut that he twitches with it.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, mouth dry, and he stands up.

“Oh,” he says, sounding almost surprised. He smiles again. “No-- no problem-- um, what are you--”

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

(You have no idea how much I howled through this fic, my god. *buries face in hands* The number of times I wanted to cry from sheer hilarity and horror reading this good lord.)

Things Could Always Be Worse by theOestofOCs

Ship: Jon/Martin, Georgie/Melanie

Sometimes, the most horrifying thing of all is what might have been.

Somewhere, Jon could swear he heard a crowd laughing.

Or: in which Jonathan Sims is forced to swap places with his alternate self—a tall, chivalrous hero extraordinaire, who knows neither fear nor nuance—and is sent to the aggressively straight alternate universe the Magnus Archives was never meant to be.

“Whatever place this is,” Jon announced, “I just want to be sure it knows I hate it.”

(I will say this once, THIS IS THE MOST CURSED THING IVE EVER READ EVER. Like holy hell. I can't believe this thing exists. please read it oh please please please)

[Supernatural]

heard from your mother (she don't recognize you) by Schmuzz

Ship: Dean/Cas, Jessica/Sam

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things:

1. Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; 2. He has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; 3. He keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who seems to be about as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

(THE fic I'm most into right now, been following this from the very start and it's AMAZING. Cas has agency and is making friends and S1 Dean is growing out of John's influence and is becoming a Person and the both of them first being friends then more. The slow burn as their relationship develops, SO GOOD. SO SO DAMN GOOD. *screams* Seriously one of the best spn fics I've read in a long, long time.)

anamnesis by cenotaphy

Ships: Castiel/Dean, Sam/Eileen

Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be.

* Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19.

(THIS IS THE FIC THAT GOT ME THROUGH THE FINALE OKAY. WHY COULDN'T THIS HAVE BEEN CANON. It's Disturbing and honestly plot-wise this makes more sense. Why couldn't we have had this. *screams*)

[Avatar: The Last Airbender]

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor

Ship: Sokka/Zuko

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

(The fact one of the tags in this fic is, "Sibling Dynamic: Fucked Up But Wholesome" should give you an idea what this fic is like. Chaotic as HELL and I just love Azula here, she loves Zuko so much in her messed up way and Zuko loves her back in the exact same way lol. It's batshit and I am Here For This.)

[Naruto]

Eclipse by AislingRoisin (JayBird345) for HybrisAnaideia

Ship: Nara Shikaku/OFC

"In life, it's easier to remain stagnant and wallow in your troubles. But life isn't merely about continued existence, nor is it meant to be gone through alone."

(This is a fic that's slept on and I NEED people to read this. A self-insert fic that I find really interesting in its approach and the worldbuilding for the post-third war shinobi world is fantastic. I feel like there's a certain pattern with self-insert fics, not that is a detriment in any way to how much I enjoy them, so this fic feels fresh to me in a way I haven't read in a while. I am waiting eagerly for this to get updated! Please read!)

On Freedom and Other Formalities by iaso

Ship: Kakashi/Genma/OFC

When push comes to shove, Hiwa Inuzuka doesn't go down easy. Reborn into a new, dangerous world? She puts her past life as a spy to work. Thrown into a war? Hiwa does her duty, for Konoha. And when she's forced into an arranged marriage? All there is to do is beat them to the punch and get married first. Thankfully, Genma Shiranui is willing to lend a hand. Literally. SI/OC

(Listen, LISTEN, it's about the slow burn, the longing, the communication (it both has and hasn't and isn't THAT great??), the messy way you fit three very different people together, it's so freaking good! Also, Kakashi is so Chaotic here this is my fave characterization of him, you can't change my mind. And Genma is a Good Boi who is Doing His Best, along with the Self-insert character who I LOVE SO MUCH, SHE'S FANTASTIC FNEIWOPAF. Sped past this fic in the speed of light, I could not stop reading!)(Honestly, read all of the author's fics, they're all really REALLY good!)

Building a Castle by WhisperingDarkness

Without needing anyone to tell her, Sakura knew that talking to someone no-one else could see or hear would make her weird. It would draw the bad kind of attention to her, something people could make fun of her for.

She didn’t like being weird, but she did like the voice. Her inner voice was helpful and it was a part of her that had always been there. The idea of it not being there would have been so much weirder than anything else.

It was during her first year at the Academy that Sakura realised the voice was not in her head at all, but that it came from a cloudy shape floating next to her.

(Basically a short-ish retelling of Hikaru no Go. Only with more Shogi and Nara and Ninja's)

(Sakura can see ghosts (I'm noticing this is a popular trope for her) and it's really cute haha! Her relationship with Tobirama is sweet and I just enjoyed reading this so much.)

[The Magicians]

So Long (And Thanks For All The Books) by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)

Ships: Quentin/Eliot, James/Julia, Quentin/Margo/Eliot

When Quentin is told Julia wasn't admitted to Brakebills, he realizes he has a drastic decision in front of him. If he tells Julia about magic, he'll have his mind wiped as well as hers. But he can't just leave her behind, either. He can't lose his best friend, and he can't let her life a life with her magical potential stolen away from her.

So he makes a third choice.

(Really, and I mean REALLY well-done canon divergent fic, this is the Quentin & Julia friendship fic I have been looking for forever. It explores so much of what could've happened and I just love Quentin here, I really really do. Characterization done so right. I also recommend the author's other works too. Been a follower of them for a long time, they're great.)

[Game of Thrones]

The Road to Victory by writing_as_tracey

Too late in preparing for the Night King and the Long Night, the last stand at Winterfell is close to falling. Bran takes desperate measures to ensure victory, and Jon, Sansa, and Arya pay the price for it in a time unfamiliar to them, on the cusp of another war. [GoT, time-travel fix it]

(I swear, this fic made me laugh so many times, all the Stark are BAMF and fantastic, and Rhaegar gets Wrecked lol. It's crack btw, and the plot goes in directions you'll never guess and it's amazing hahaha!)

[Haikyuu!!] (I am very very late to the fandom but here I am)

Ballare (To Dance) by MidnightSparks

Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, and platonic Kageyama & Kentarou (really love their friendship)

Kageyama’s first love is volleyball. His second, however, is ballet.

In one world, Kageyama Tobio is left behind by his parents. In this world, the existence of soulbonds keeps Kageyama’s parents in Miyagi and leaves Kageyama in the care of his grandma and grandpa.

(In which soulmates exist and that changes everything and nothing at the same time.)

(*buries face in hands* I have fallen for this ship so hard and I can't get out fudge me. I understand now. Their DYNAMICS FIEWONPAF)

Kings of Tomorrow by bokubroya (liarielle)

Ship: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru

On the eve of Tobio’s 16th birthday, he counts down the seconds to midnight, and emerges with Oikawa Tooru’s name on his wrist.

It’s been two years since then, and Tobio thought they had an understanding. A silent, never spoken about understanding that this thing between them is nothing, and they��re going to pretend it doesn’t exist.

Of course, it’s just like Oikawa to change the game and leave Tobio wondering what comes next.

(I am WEAK for soulmate fics between these two, I don't even really like soulmate fics half the times what is WRONG WITH ME-)(Please suffer with me, I'm begging you. Its a good fic, thumbs up.)

[Crossover]

Honey and Magic by JustARatherVerySillyWriter, White_Squirrel for Super Carlin Brothers

Fandoms: Matilda (yeah you read that right), Harry Potter

Everyone knew Matilda was a rather extraordinary child, but even she didn't know she was a witch. Matilda Honey receives her Hogwarts letter in the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and soon, she will leave her unique mark on the magical world.

(Do I even need to explain how amazing it is to have Matilda in the wizarding world? And Matilda is a HUFFLEPUFF AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL THIS FIC IS GREAT PLEASE READ!!!)

An Eye for an Eye by DpsMercy

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale

In which Jonathan Sims is not from the UK but instead, if you took his origins and turned them sideways twice then flipped them over, he technically would be from the US, the town of Night Vale specifically. Elias can’t do shit about it and gets a headache and slowly creeping madness instead.

(Look, I know probably everyone has read this because if they haven't, what have you been DOING with your lives??? Jon interning at Night Vale is Incredible, nothing phases this man, it's Delightful. I laughed so many times reading this, I'm not even kidding right now. Read or perish.)

The Favour by R_Cookie

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Harry Potter

Percival is ten years old when his grandfather tries to tell him that he's ensured the greatness of the Graves legacy for him, that he ought to be eternally grateful - but the explanation is hijacked by a stranger who manages to intimidate Chester Graves with an ease never seen before.

or: Hadrian (Harry) Potter is the Master of Death, who grants Graves a boon. Nobody could have known that the Deathly Hallows didn't turn you so much into the 'Master of Death' as into the anthropomorphic personification of Death. And so, Death becomes Percival's guardian angel, and Percival does not spit out his cereal.

(Look, I don't know how I stumbled back into the FBAWTFT fandom either, it just happened and I'm grateful for that. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found this amazing fic. Their relationship is slow and strange and I just love how Percival is characterized here. Also, one of the tag promises that it deviates from canon so I am really, really excited for that! XD)

baby that's what i do by natanije

Fandoms: Naruto, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!

"Are you telling me," Hidan exclaims, incredulous, "that you collect money all this time to give to orphans?!"

Kakuzu pauses. He blinks a few times.

"Huh. I guess I do."

(Tsuna reincarnates as Kakuzu and it's HILARIOUS. HE'S SUCH A MOM HAHAHA)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Podcasts #The Magnus Archives #Supernatural #Avatar The Last Airbender #Naruto #The Magicians #Game of Thrones #Haikyuu!!#Crossover #Matilda #Welcome to Night Vale #Harry Potter #Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them #Katekyou Hitman Reborn

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particularemu · 5 years ago

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Skinny Dipping | A Hwang Hyunjin Scenario

Word Count: 3075

Type: Smut

Warnings: Public sex (kinda?)

Author’s Note: I have so many soft smut fics for Hwang Hyunjin, so I was struggling with finding an idea for this request. My bae @jisungsjheekies came up with this camping idea :3

So big thanks to Lins <3

Also tagging @cherryeol04 and @channiesmixtape because I’m dying for them to read this.

“I’ve never been camping.”

Your burger slipped out of your hands, falling onto your plate in a mess of ketchup-coated beef and lettuce as you gawked at your boyfriend. “How the hell have you not been camping?”

When you were a kid, your parents took you camping ALL THE TIME. Your family rarely stayed home on a summer weekend. You had fond memories of sleeping in a tent with your sister, telling scary stories by the bonfire, swimming in the lake (and trying not to fear that weird plant that always seemed to wrap around your foot), and catching fireflies in jars underneath the moonlight. Oh, you just HAD to take Hyunjin camping. You had a feeling the boy would have a blast stargazing with REAL STARS. Especially since he spent HOURS one-year sticking hundreds of glow-in-the-dark stars all over your bedroom for your anniversary.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but laugh at your surprise. “Hey, I came here to take my beautiful girlfriend out to lunch, not to be judged.” He chuckled. “I thought I told you that I grew up in the city. Why are you so surprised?” Hyunjin smiled as he shoved a few fries in his mouth, cheeks puffing out slightly as he munched.

How could a boy look so cute eating?

You shrugged as you tried to put your messy burger back together. “You’re right. Not everyone grew up in the countryside like me.” You chuckled. “Well, I’m going to take you camping this weekend.” You paused. “Unless you have plans?”

“Nope.” Hyunjin smiled. “I’m 100% free.”

You beamed at Hyunjin. “Great! I know a great spot not too far from town. It’s near a secluded lake.” You took a giant bite of your burger, munching a bit before you finished. “It’s been a while, but I think there’s a small waterfall there too.”

Hyunjin chuckled and nodded. “I’ll go, but only if you eat with your mouth closed.”

“Rude.” You chuckled and wiped your mouth. “I happen to eat like a lady.”

“I disagree.” Hyunjin reached over the table and wiped your mouth for you. “But I love you anyway.”

-----------------

Hyunjin pursed his lips as he bent one of the tent poles, sliding the two pieces together with ease. There we go! Now according to the instructions…

SNAP!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Hyunjin sighed as the tent fell to the ground — yet again. This was Hyunjin’s third attempt putting the tent together, with the instructions that came in the bag. There were many other embarrassing attempts that he’d rather not speak of… Every time he managed to get the tent put together, the damn thing would collapse. Perhaps he should admit defeat and ask you to put the tent together? After all, you were the camping expert.

“Hyunjin, I hate to break it to you, but you aren’t very good at putting a tent together.” You giggled as Hyunjin’s lower lip popped out.

“Hey, I’m trying my best.” He chuckled. “I wanted to get the tent put together while you were paying for the spot.” Hyunjin huffed and crossed his arms. “Which I told you I would do.”

“My treat.” You laughed. “I dragged you out here, the least I could do is pay for our amazing spot.”

You beamed at the camping space you two selected. The spot was surrounded by trees, far away from others, and the lake was just a short hike away. You had lawn chairs, a charcoal grill, and you weren’t too far from the bathrooms. Now you just needed to get that tent taken care of.

“Are you sure we’re not going to be eaten by a wild animal or something?” Hyunjin watched you piece the tent together with ease, mentally facepalming at how easy you made it look. “Okay that’s not fair.”

You chuckled as you headed over to your trusty old truck, grabbing a handful of blankets from the backseat. “Don’t worry Jinnie. I’ll fight off the deer for you.”

Hyunjin’s jaw dropped, brows creasing as he grabbed the armful of blankets from you. “I’m not worried about the deer you dork.” He threw the blankets into the tent before turning to you, hands on his hips. “I’m more worried about the bears.”

“We have bear spray for the bears.” You closed the door to the truck, your bag and Hyunjin’s slung over your shoulders as you headed to the tent.

“Let me help with that.” Hyunjin grabbed his bag and a couple grocery bags off your hands. “Are you sure bear spray is going to be enough?”

“Jinnie, we’ll be okay.” You smiled and tossed the bags into the tent. “Let’s get the tent all set up.”

Hyunjin smiled and crawled into the tent, hands working to spread the mess of blankets and pillows along the tent so the two of you would have a comfortable place to sleep. You helped Hyunjin stack the pillows along the sides, smiling at your handiwork when everything was completed.

“I have a surprise for you.” You grinned as you pulled out some glow in the dark stars from your bag.

Hyunjin threw his head back and laughed. “You really brought those?” He grabbed the box from your hand, eyeing up the sticky stars as he grinned. “But we’re out here, where we can see real stars?”

“Yeah, but this is our little home away from home.” You smiled. “You love those stars.”

“I love you more.” Hyunjin leaned forward and captured your lips in a sweet kiss. “So so much my love.”

There he goes again.

Hwang Hyunjin always knew how to make your heart soar. The ebony-haired boy had a way with words. “I love you too Jinnie.” You smiled and leaned into his chest. “I could lay here with you all day.”

Hyunjin hummed in approval as he leaned back against the blankets, pulling you onto his chest. “Why don’t we?”

For a split second, you agreed with him. Nothing sounded better than laying on Hyunjin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat while his fingers ran through your hair. His hand started to rub your back and you were suddenly entranced by the sweet affection that Hwang Hyunjin had to give.

But you came here for a reason.

“Jinnie, we could cuddle all day at home.” You buried your face in his neck, completely contradicting what you were about to say next. “I want to go to the lake.” Did you really? At this point, you weren’t sure. Laying in Hyunjin’s arms all day sounded like a good plan.

Hyunjin chuckled. “Of course my love. Let’s go so we can get back and snuggle.”

Oh, your heart…

You smiled when Hyunjin kissed your forehead before releasing his iron-like grip on your waist, allowing you to sit up. “Okay love.” You grabbed a couple of water bottles. “Are you ready to go on a hike?”

“As long as it’s with you.” Hyunjin smiled and grabbed his backpack. “But I’m bringing snacks.”

--------------------

“Are we almost there?” Hyunjin pushed through a few branches, grunting when one smacked him in the face.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the poor boy as he rubbed the red mark on his forehead. “Oh my gosh, Jinnie are you okay?” You rushed to his side and grabbed his hand. “Here walk with me, I’ll protect you from those branches.”

“I’m not that fragile.” Hyunjin chuckled as he followed behind you. “How much longer?”

“What, you don’t like hiking?” You poked Hyunjin’s side, making the boy gasp and giggle.

“No, it’s not that, but you seem tired.” Hyunjin scrunched his nose before kissing your cheek.

Okay, he had a point. Hyunjin danced for a living. He was always in good shape. You, however… worked from home and you had a habit of binge-watching all the shows on Netflix versus actually leaving the house and getting some exercise. Sure you loved hiking, but that doesn’t mean you were in shape for it.

“We’re almost there.” You smiled as you pushed some more branches out of the way. “Actually we ARE here.”

Hyunjin’s sparkly eyes scanned the beautiful landscape, a soft “wow,” escaping his lips as he walked past the branches. “What a beautiful waterfall.”

The soothing sounds of water meeting water filled the air the closer you two came to the waterfall. Hyunjin’s hand rested on your lower back as you searched for a good place to sit. “Let’s sit over there.” You pointed to a log resting next to a few trees. That would make an excellent bench.

The two of you sat side by side as you munched on various granola bars and fruit snacks. The hike was only an hour, but you and Hyunjin were exhausted. It was well worth it though, to see his smiling face as he took in the beautiful sights of the lake.

“This is nice.” You smiled. “Thanks for coming here with me. I missed camping.”

“Of course.” Hyunjin grinned. “I’m having fun.”

“Do you think you’d want to go again?” You popped another fruit snack in your mouth, eager eyes waiting for his answer.

“I’d love to.” Hyunjin smiled. “As long as we don’t run into any bears.”

You couldn't help but giggle at Hyunjin as the boy chowed down on a granola bar. A comfortable silence filled the air as you and Hyunjin sat next to each other, simply enjoying each other’s presence.

You couldn’t help the blush that coated your cheeks as Hyunjin tilted his head back, ebony bangs falling out of his face as his eyes drifted shut. The sun illuminated the glistening sweat along his brow as a small smile tugged at his lips. “It’s hot out here.” Hyunjin fanned himself with his hand, despite thoroughly enjoying the feeling of the sun’s rays against his skin.

Yeah, it was hot, but it didn’t have anything to do with the sun…

“We should go swimming.” You smiled at the boy when his eyes opened. “It’ll cool you down.”

Well… that and you were kind of hoping to see your boyfriend’s toned chest under the bright sun. Hwang Hyunjin had a damn beautiful body — and if you played your cards right, you might be able to have that pretty body on top of yours.

“But we don’t have swimsuits.” Hyunjin chuckled. “What are we going to swim in, our clothes?”

You smirked and stood up, hands slowly pulling your shirt off your body. “I have another idea.” You couldn’t help but notice the dark blush coating Hyunjin’s cheeks as you reached behind your back, unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the ground. If you weren’t so turned on right now, you’d be concerned about creepy crawlies getting up in your bra — but you were more interested in getting Hyunjin to get naked and hop in the water with you.

“Baby, what if someone comes?” Hyunjin’s hand ran across his mouth as if the motion would wipe the stupid grin off his face. You were always more adventurous than Hyunjin, and he LOVED that part of you, but getting naked in public? What if someone else came and saw the two of you naked in the lake? He’d rather get naked with you in the safety of the tent, where wandering eyes wouldn’t be able to catch you. “I don’t know…”

“Come on Hyunjin.” Your hands unbuttoned your shorts while you stepped out of your hiking boots. “Live a little.” You pulled your shorts down your hips, leaving you in your cute heart panties.

Hyunjin stood up and pulled his shirt off. “Fine.” He made quick work of his pants and underwear before bending down and yanking off his socks. “Let’s get this over with, so no one sees us.”

“You’re such a worrywart.” You giggled as you stripped the rest of the way down, tying your hair back before slowly wading in the water. “Come on in, the water’s nice!”

“Of course I’m worried.” Hyunjin followed after you, muscles rippling as the warm water ran against his skin. “What’s the point of this?

“The point?” You smiled. “We get to swim with a beautiful view, and I get to see my boyfriend naked.” You giggled when Hyunjin grabbed your waist and pulled you to his chest, fingers raking along your sides as he tickled you. “Hyunjin stop!” You laughed as you tried to escape his iron grip.

“Okay fine.” Hyunjin stopped his attack as he kissed you on the cheek. “But only because I love you.” His cheeks flushed slightly. “Besides, you’re way prettier than the view.” Hyunjin’s lips traveled down to your lips as his hands rested on your hips. “I guess I see why you wanted to skinny dip so bad.”

“Are you?” You giggled when Hyunjin silenced you with a kiss. “Jinnie, are you —”

“I want you.” Hyunjin’s brows creased. “I know it’s wrong. We’re out in public… anyone could see, but I want you.”

“It’s not wrong.” You pressed soft kisses along his jawline. “I want you too.” Your arms wrapped around his neck as Hyunjin pulled your legs around his waist. “I love you so much.” You tightened your legs around his waist. “Please?”

“Okay sweet girl.” Hyunjin rested his forehead against your chest as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your slit. “You have me.” Hyunjin slid himself inside you with ease, cock rubbing every single inch of your walls as he reached the hilt. “Fuck…” Hyunjin clenched his jaw, trying to keep from losing himself right there. There was something about the sweet way you begged for his cock, mixed with the danger of getting caught that sent the blood rushing straight to Hyunjin’s shaft.

You threw your head back and moaned, thoroughly enjoying the way your bodies fit together. It was as if the two of you were made for each other. Hyunjin’s cock fit inside you perfectly, tilting up slightly to hit your g-spot with every thrust. “Hyunjin, move please.” Your hands threaded in his hair as you rolled your hips against his. “I need to feel you inside me.”

Hyunjin bit your shoulder lightly before running his tongue along the mark, hips starting to thrust upward as his fingertips dug into your thighs. “Fuck you feel so good, baby.” Hyunjin moaned quietly as his lips traveled along your neck. “You always feel so good.”

Fucking in the water like this was a bit awkward. The two of you were trying to hurry so you wouldn’t get caught, and Hyunjin wasn’t really in the position to thrust, so the two of you were mostly just grinding your hips together, hoping the friction would bring you both to the edge. Fortunately, Hyunjin’s cock was hitting all the right spots, even without him properly thrusting inside you.

“Hold on sweetheart,” Hyunjin grunted as he gathered his footing, hips snapping into yours more effectively.

“Oh fuck.” You gasped as Hyunjin’s cock rammed right into your g-spot. The feeling of his cock pistoning into you mixed with the water splashing between your bodies brought you close to your high almost instantly. “Oh my God, Jinnie.” You moaned. “So good.” Your arms tightened around his neck the faster he went. “Fuck it’s so good.”

“I’m so close, love.” Hyunjin moaned pornographically. “I’m so close. Touch yourself, baby. Cum with me.”

Hyunjin’s soft voice nearly sent you into overdrive as you reached between your bodies to frantically rub your clit. “I’m close Jinnie.”

“That’s it sweet girl.” Hyunjin moaned as his hips started to snap erratically, falling out of the rhythm he once had the closer he came to his high. “Fuck I’m — ah.” Hyunjin buried his head in your neck as he came inside you, groaning when your walls clenched around him as you hit your own high. He held you close, thrusting shallowly as your eyes rolled in the back of your head, loud moans erupting from your lips as you rubbed yourself through your orgasm. You leaned forward, practically collapsing in Hyunjin’s arms as he held you. “You alright, love?”

“Mhmm.” You mumbled as you regained your breath. “You’re so good.”

Hyunjin chuckled as he pressed soft kisses along your neck. Exhaustion hit him all at once as he pulled out of you, a small smirk tugging at his lips when you groaned at the emptiness. “We should get out before someone sees us,” Hyunjin whispered in your ear.

“Let them see.” You sighed. “I want to stay in your arms.”

“If we head back to the tent, you can spend all night in my arms.” Hyunjin smiled, praying you’d take the bait. The last thing he wanted was to traumatize an innocent family with the sight of your naked bodies in the water.

“Okay.” You smiled lazily and slid off of his body. The two of you air-dried for a while before quickly dressing to avoid an awkward confrontation with an unsuspecting traveler. “That was fun.” You smiled. “We should do that again.”

“Have sex in the lake?” Hyunjin giggled. “I don’t know if I want to make that a habit.”

“Good point.” You pulled your shirt over your head and gasped. “Oh my God Hyunjin.” You pointed to a trail across from the lake, spotting a sweet looking family hike up the hill. “Quick put your shirt on.”

Hyunjin threw his shirt on, cheeks flushing bright red as the father waved at the two of you. “Hello, sir.” Hyunjin bowed to the man, praying they didn’t hear any of what happened just moments earlier.

“The water warm?” The man grinned as his kids started to take off their swimsuit cover-ups. “We heard there was a lake around here, but I didn’t think it would be this beautiful.”

“The water’s amazing.” You smiled and grabbed Hyunjin’s hand. “We’re exhausted from swimming so we’ll see you around!” You smiled as the family waved, practically dragging Hyunjin down the trail behind you.

“So we hiked through trees when there was a trail?” Hyunjin chuckled.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” You laughed. “We JUST finished fucking in there.”

“Guess we finished just in time,” Hyunjin smirked and slung his arm around your shoulders. “Now let’s go back to the tent and sleep. I’m exhausted.”

You smiled and leaned into Hyunjin’s side, wrapping your arm around his waist as the two of you walked along the trail. “Sounds amazing.”

603 notes · View notes

blouisparadise · 5 years ago

Photo

We recently received a request for enemies and lovers recs. We already have an enemies to lovers fic rec list here, but after looking at that list, we realized we had much more to add to it and therefore decided to make a part two.

Happy reading!

1) I Couldn’t Get Away From You | Mature | 5185 words

Suddenly in the heat of the moment, Harry’s eyes turned darker as he pushed Louis’ back more and more towards the wall. “Fine.” He plants his lips on Louis’ and begins to roughly kiss him, soon enough turning it into a make-out session.

“Fuck you, Styles,” Louis moans and grips onto Harry’s shoulders, hands trailing up to the taller’s hair and gripping that as well.

“We’ll see about that.”

2) There's More Than One Place To Call Home | Explicit | 8416 words

Harry never asked for much from his neighbors - he didn't care about barking animals during the day or loud talking during the night.

The only thing he needed was silence when he was writing. And that was the only thing his new neighbor wouldn't give him.

Deciding to confront the loud guy who lived next door, Harry found himself ringing his doorbell one night. And that decision just may be the best thing that's ever happened to Harry.

3) Make A Run, Cause Some Rebellion | Explicit | 8824 words

As a general rule, kitten hybrids are small and disinterested in what other people want them to do, slightly evil and at least a little manipulative. Louis prides himself on being all of those things to varying degrees, but especially on being uninterested in what other people tell him to do. He’s still human goddammit, despite his pointy ears and penchant for curling up in the sun and taking naps.

He’s going about his daily business, knocking things over where he sees fit and leaving a trail of mess in his wake. As exasperated as it makes Liam he’s used to it by now, having shared a flat with Louis for almost three years now, and if Louis whines enough he’ll even clean up after him. It’s a great life, really.

With the exception of Liam’s stupid, broad shouldered, entirely too big mate, the one who always comes over to watch sports with him. Louis hates that guy. His hair is always greasy and he brings weird hipster beer with him when he comes that tastes like shit. And he won’t even let Louis have any of it, either. The only reason Louis even knows what it tastes like is because one time he stole a bottle from the fridge and fled to his room before Harry could catch him.

4) Something To Prove | Explicit | 9425 words

Louis is the first and only omega to work at Red Valley Medical Center. Despite being more than qualified, he still faces prejudice for his career choice everyday. From patients refusing his treatment to condescending alpha doctors intervening with his work, practicing medicine in Boston is more challenging than Louis had ever thought it would be.

5) Where Do We Go Now | Explicit | 10617 words

Louis goes off to college ready to start a fresh life away from the oppressive alphas of his pack. The odds aren't in his favour when his new dorm mate turns out to be an alpha. Louis hates alphas.

6) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11103 words

The one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

7) I Didn’t Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) | Explicit | 20681 words

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course.

Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

8) Written In The Stars (That’s You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words

Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.

To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”

6) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23516 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

10) When It’s Late At Night | Mature | 25597 words

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

11) Supposed To Be | Explicit | 26100 words

The Geek Charming AU where Harry's a film geek, Louis' a popular jock, and they both need each other to get what they want.

12) Magical Soup | Explicit | 28850 words

Slytherin prefect Louis Tomlinson's seventh year at Hogwarts takes an immediate turn for the worse when he's made to be potions partners with Harry Styles, Hufflepuff's resident heartthrob and class clown. Louis has always considered Styles to be a terrible show-off who coasts by on his charm and good looks, but the more they work together, the more he questions that idea. As term goes on, will Louis be able to admit to himself that he might actually like Harry Styles after all... and maybe, just maybe, as more than a friend?

13) Building Me Up (But Buttercup, You Lied) | Explicit | 31007 words

Harry’s mouth felt dry just saying those words. What he had with Louis was so much more than a simple ‘fuck buddies’ situation. It was slow kisses in the morning between soft sheets and shy smiles, it was holding hands in the afternoon while walking and eating ice cream. It was breakfast for dinner, laughing and licking honey from each other’s lips as they shared goals and even some secrets, it was happiness, it was glow.

To Harry, what he had with Louis meant everything. Until Louis decided it meant nothing.

14) You’ve Set On Me | Explicit | 31100 words

Louis' in an obscure band. Harry's an international popstar. Their paths aren't meant to cross, not like this, but when Louis' band signs on as Harry's opening act, both Harry and Louis are forced to confront the open wounds of their shared past.

15) Nicotine | Explicit | 32245 words | Sequel

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

16) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34572 words

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

17) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

18) Make This Feel Like Home | Explicit | 42032 words

The house on West 28th Street in London is twice the size of Louis', more expensive than the price of all of his house and car payments combined, and is falling apart at the seams.

19) Strangers in Love | Explicit | 42207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

10) Why Can’t It Be Like That | Explicit | 63567 words

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.

21) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.

22) For Reasons Wretched and Divine | Explicit | 94655 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Ten years ago, Harry Styles was just a nerdy kid with one friend and a debilitating crush on the captain of his school’s football team. He thought the stars were smiling down on him the day he and Louis Tomlinson were paired for their end-of-term Literature project. But because Harry’s life is decidedly not a fairytale, the budding friendship quickly leads to the least happy ending of all time.

Now, Harry Styles is a household name. Barely twenty-seven with two Grammy nominations to his name, the singer-songwriter is poised to take the music industry by storm with his highly anticipated third album. So, what happens when the best producer in the business is also the only person Harry’s vowed never to speak to again?

23) You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) | Explicit | 102306 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

“Harry is not short for Harold,” he corrects, his voice as thick as molasses. He lowers his eyes to Louis’ sequined lapels, rubbing one between two fingers. “Is this small or extra small? It looks lovely.”

Louis breaks away from his grip with a petulant huff and pushes him back with two fingers.

“You’re mocking me. Again.”

Harry smiles and it's a real honest swoop of his lips this time. Louis’ stomach swoops with them.

24) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices | Mature | 126056 words

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #enemies to lovers #hate to love #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs

491 notes · View notes

illfoandillfie · 5 years ago

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5 Simple Rules for a Successful Fake Relationship: The Proposal

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: Your's and Ben's agents approach you about pretending to date in order to boost interest in your new movie.

Warnings: Nothing for this chapter other than some swearing maybe? Things may get a little spicy in later chapters though.

Words: 5843

AN: This fic was written for El @laedymoon for her 1K celebration! I took the trope 'fake dating' and this was the result! Honestly fake dating is one my my fave tropes and I've been wanting to try my hand at it for a while so this was so much fun to write! Originally it was meant to be a one shot but when have I ever been good at sticking to plans lmao? Instead it'll probably end up as a three or four part series, maybe with an epilogue as well, who knows.

I’d also like to point out I started writing this months before we got those photos of Ben and Olivia so this was in no way inspired by anyone’s theories about whether or not their relationship is a PR stunt and I’m not particularly interested in that kind of talk.

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie

You’d known fake celebrity relationships were a thing that happened, you just never expected to be approached about one. But, here you were, sat next to Ben in an office usually reserved for producers meetings, a slight frown on his face as he listened to your agents explain how beneficial it would be if the public believed you were a couple. “It’ll be good for the movie,” your agent, Mary, said matter-of-factly, “Studies show that if people – particularly women ages 15 – 45, the exact demographic we’re targeting – believe a real romance sprouted during the course of filming a movie, they are 78% more likely to see the movie. Plus, your names in the tabloids mean more exposure for both of you which means more offers in future, no matter how well this movie does in the box office. It’s all about being seen, people knowing your names.” “Are you serious?” Ben asked slowly, glancing to you, as if trying to determine your reaction. “Look, Ben, obviously we can’t force you or Y/N to do this,” his agent, Peter, introduced to you moments before, said, “the movie has already started filming and everyone appreciates your opinions, so saying no isn’t going to affect your jobs. But,” he paused, making sure the words were getting through to you both, “we strongly recommend you consider it. There are enough pros to make it worthwhile and it would only have to last until a week or two after the premiere. We can give you the rest of the day to think it over and make your decisions, but we will require an answer by tomorrow morning. If you agree, we can discuss terms and get everything in order to run the first story early next week.”

You and Ben left, tempted to laugh at the strangeness of your morning. “Think I need a coffee after that. You wanna come over to my trailer for a cup?” “Yeah, okay, sounds good,” you followed him quietly for a moment, thinking over the conversation you’d just been part of, “What do you think?” “About what? Coffee? You know I love it,” “Not coffee, the whole pretending to date thing,” “Oh that,” you could almost hear his eyes roll. “You don’t think it’s worth it?” He paused. “Saying no won’t hurt my feelings,” you nudged his shoulder, hoping to ease his obvious discomfort, “it is a weird situation.” “Weird is an understatement. And weren’t you with that Luke guy, what would he say about it?” “He’ll say nothing since we’re not seeing each other anymore,” “Wait, what?” “Yeah that lasted like three dates and went nowhere, I haven’t seen him in weeks.” “Oh, sorry.” You shrugged, “What’s there to be sorry for, he was boring. Anyway, we were talking about you and me.” “Right, that.” Ben opened the door to his trailer and waved you inside, following you over the threshold, “What do you think about it?” “I’m not opposed to it. We already spend a lot of our time pretending to date anyway.” Ben chuckled as he flicked the small kettle on, grabbing your two mugs and the instant coffee. “Plus it would be good to get our names out there a bit more. And we're friends, right?” After the weeks of pre-production costume fittings and script read-throughs you certainly thought you were friends and hoped Ben did too. “Of course we’re friends doofus,” “Thanks dweeb. But that means it'll be fun getting to hang out and stuff.” “So, wait, you think it’s a good idea?” “Well it can’t hurt, can it?” Ben frowned, forehead creased, “Don’t you think it’s all a bit, well, daft? As if us dating, real or not, would really have an impact on the movie, I think that’s bullshit. Plus, y’know, the work we’d have to put in to making it seem real or whatever. That’s just inviting extra stress into our lives and extra work which it doesn’t sound like we’d be getting paid for. Acting’s fun but I don’t want to spend every waking moment doing it.” “Well it wouldn’t be every waking moment would it? Just the ones when they had photographers around. They’ll get a few photos of us leaving set holding hands or out having dinner together and spin it into a big romantic story and all we’d have to do is hold hands and have dinner. And you can’t call bullshit when they had actual statistics to back them up.” “It sounds like you’re trying to convince me.” “No, if you don’t want to I don’t mind, but I also don’t see anything wrong with it. And I think you should actually think about it instead of writing it off instantly.” “So if I said I was into it, you’d want to?” You shrugged, “Yeah. I want this movie to do well, I want this job to go somewhere. And if I have to date you to make that happen I will. That sounded better in my head. I just mean that I’m happy to pretend to date you, even if I wouldn’t in real life, no offence.” “I’m a little offended,” he chuckled, “but really can’t argue with that can I?” “If you’re not comfortable with it, say so and we’ll tell them no,” Ben paused, staring at you as he considered what you’d said, quiet for so long you were sure he was going to say he wasn’t interested. You were about to put him out of his misery and tell him you didn’t want to anymore when he spoke up. “They did say it would be good for the movie and out careers,” “Someone’s coming around,” you sing-songed, taking the mug he offered you. “Alright, I admit, maybe not as awful an idea as I first thought. There are…some pros anyway. And I guess we can hear the terms and then make up our minds properly.” “Aww, looks like I got myself a boyfriend,”

The next morning you found out what you were in for if you did agree to it. Once again both of your agents were waiting in the office but this time a third person was with them when you arrived. “Y/N, Ben, take a seat. This is Barry, he’s a representative from Paramount Pictures.” Barry, with his salt and pepper hair and well cut suit, leaned forward in his seat to shake Ben’s hand and then yours with a pleasant greeting. “Well,” Mary spoke up, “have you made a decision?” Ben looked to you before he spoke, “It’s a tentative yes from both of us. We’d like to hear a bit more about it before we fully agree but, so far, it sounds okay.” “Glad to have you on board,” Barry said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a manila folder full of paper. “In that case, the terms,” Peter said, glancing around to make sure everyone was ready, “If you do agree, we’ll need you to sign some paperwork stating you understand your obligations and all that, so take a copy of these,” he took two small stapled documents from Barry, handing you each one, before passing another to Mary, “just so everyone has all the info at hand.” “Are these the terms?” “Yes. Don’t worry, we’ll explain, but it’s all laid out in there if you need clarification.” “There’s more pages than I was expecting,” Ben said, already sounding like it was becoming too much work to worry about. “You don’t have to worry about the last few pages, it’s mostly just legalese. Essentially, you’ll be required to act like a couple in public. That’s really all there is to it, though contractually it’s a little more complex.” “What does that mean?” “We just need you both to agree to perform specific relationship type moments that we can sell. For instance, Y/N, we will need you to be spotted by paparazzi leaving Ben’s apartment a couple of times. Or vice versa. It is the 21st century afterall.” “You mean like a walk of shame?” you asked, glancing at the paper in your hand. “That’s not the official term on the contract but it’s more or less correct. You’ll need to change clothes, make it look like you stayed the night even if you didn’t really.” “Wouldn’t it be more traditional to wear the previous day’s gear?” “Perhaps but if you’re in the same clothes as the day before the paparazzi can’t sell the photos as easily because they can’t prove they were taken on different days. We want to make these photos easy to sell and easy to circulate. To that end, some paparazzi and gossip blogs will be tipped off by the studio and hopefully word will spread as the buzz around you gets stronger.” “There will also be required dates, of course. At least one of them needs to take place at the French restaurant Boucher because they have a partnership with the studio. There is also a clause about an argument, provided people become interested in your relationship and we keep it going all the way to the premiere.” “Wait, an argument?” Ben flipped through his papers, trying to find the right section. “You just have to be caught arguing, or at least looking like you’re angry and about to fight, just so we can sell the whole trouble in paradise storyline.” “People like conflict,” Mary shrugged, “Otherwise all we need is the two of you to act like a couple in public, maybe a few social media posts, from now until a week after the theatre release. After that you’re free to ‘break up’, though you will also need to sign a non-disclosure agreement which will stop you from talking about it for a few years. We’ll organise a few magazines and gossip sites to run stories about the split and, depending on how the public react to your story, may later run some Ben and Y/N, back together question mark type pieces, entirely fabricated of course.” “You will attend the premiere together and, obviously, do press together. We will tell reporters not to ask about your personal lives, so no one suspects the relationship to be fake, though a few questions may slip through. Though we don’t expect this movie to earn any award nominations since it’s not being marketing for any there may be some later down the track. In that case we may ask you to extend your relationship long enough to attend the ceremonies together, provided you aren’t working on other projects at the time.” “The only other requirements are that, a few times a week you allow yourselves to be seen in public. Hand holding, kissing, really sell the whole fallen in love thing. That’s it really.” “And we can’t even tell our families?” “One leak is all it would take to have this revealed. You tell your mum who accidentally lets slip to the neighbour who sells it to a magazine. And if it’s revealed it could be harmful when it comes to box office numbers, which is the exact opposite of what we want. But enough of these have been done so that we know how to manage them, and all you have to do is keep quiet about it and act like you’re in love. Easy. Are you both on board?” Barry, who’d been quiet throughout the meeting, leaned forward expectantly. You already knew what to say, "I’m in if Ben is,” Ben chewed his lip as he skimmed over the paper in his hands again. He sighed and raised his eyes to where Barry sat, waiting. “I don’t know I-” You’d seen it coming, his answer. Really it wasn’t much of a surprise. Ben didn’t strike you as the sort of person to go in for schemes like this and he’d been hesitant from the second it was suggested. You heard him sigh again as his gaze landed on you and you wondered if he thought less of you for wanting to be part of it. “Okay. I’m in.” You were a little stunned by his change of heart but you were the only one. Everyone else in the room seemed relieved and a little frantic, Barry reaching back into his bag, Mary and Peter talking over each other to assure you both that you’d made the right choice. “Glad to hear that, Ben,” Barry was saying as he pulled out another folder of documents, “Now, we’ll need you to both to sign here.”

After shooting was done for the day you accompanied Ben to a small pub for a drink. Mary and Peter had left the meeting on their phones making hurried calls to get photos of the two of you leaving the set together. You’d jumped a little as Ben grabbed your hand before realising why his fingers were linked through your own. It was warm and he didn’t let you go until you reached the pub, the snap of cameras audible as you walked down the street. You found a booth while Ben headed to the bar, returning a little later with a drink in each hand. “One G and T for my girlfriend,” he laughed as he put the drink in front of you and slid into the seat opposite. “Y’know if you told me last week that I’d have had a boyfriend before we finished filming and that it was you, I would have laughed.” “God me too. Our jobs are so bizarre. Literally what other profession would encourage you to pretend to date?” You laughed and pulled out the papers you’d been given that morning, “And who’d have thought there’d be so many contractual requirements.” “We should add our own set of rules. Like just so we’re clear about what we’d be uncomfortable doing or whatever.” “Safewords?” “Get your mind out of the gutter. Christ, you fake ask a girl out and suddenly all she can think about is sex.” “My mind was in the gutter long before we were set up.” He let out a huff of laughter and shook his head, reaching for his glass. “I know what you mean though. We should definitely define some things,” you grabbed your bag and began digging through it for a pen. When you found it, you turned the papers over giving you a blank canvas to work on, “Firstly sex.” “Should have known,” “May as well start with the big one. Rule 1: No Sex. Completely off the table.” you took a sip of your drink as you began jotting it down. “Your wank game strong?” The conversation was interrupted as you choked on your drink, finally recovering enough to splutter, “excuse me?” “Well it sounds like we might be together for a while. Can’t go on any tinder dates or anything since that would look like cheating. You sure you can last that long? “100 per cent.” “Alright, if you’re sure. Rule one, no sex.” You finished writing it down, rolling your eyes, “What about PDAs? We have to do some but is there anything you’d be uncomfortable with?” “I’m not really one for like public make out sessions,” “Thank god, me neither.” “Okay, good. What about cuddling and that kind of thing. Man this is weird to talk about,” “Yeah, is a bit. I can do some cuddling in public but y'know, nothing too much. Hugs are fine, an arm around my shoulders is fine. Holding hands is obviously okay.” “What about an arm around the waist?” “Hmmm….maybe. Yeah, I think I’d be okay with that. But your hand never goes below my lower back. I will have no arse grabs or pinches or hands in my back pocket.” “Wasn’t planning on that but good to know. Does cuddling include lap sitting?” “Absolutely not.” “Okay, strong boundaries, I respect that. You going to write all that down?” “Rule 2: PDAs kept respectable and to a minimum. And rule 3: hands above the belt at all times. What about our families and friends?” you asked as you made notes on acceptable PDAs, “chances are we’re going to have to deal with them at some point since they’re going to think it’s real.” “Okay, um, how about…no meeting anyone unless there’s a reason like a family gathering you’d be expected to bring a partner to. And if that does come up we can work out a game plan then.” “Make sense. Rule 4: No families unless no escape.”

By the time you left the pub, your list of rules tucked into your bag, it was quite late. “Hey, you wanna crash at mine tonight?” Ben asked, “we can text Peter and Mary, let them know so they can organise paparazzi for the morning.” “Tonight? I don’t have a toothbrush or a change of clothes or anything.” “We’ll pop into a shop and buy you a new toothbrush, should probably get you one for my place anyway since apparently you’ll be staying over more than once. And I’m sure I’ve got something you can sleep in.” “And tomorrow? Can’t wear this again in case we get photographed.” “I’ll give you something and then I’ll drop you home in the morning,” he shrugged. “I guess that would work,” “C’mon, it’ll be like a sleepover. Stay up late and talk about boys, have things devolve into a sexy pillow fight, sleepover stuff.” “And you say my mind lives in the gutter.” “That’s not a no,” “Alright, I’ll crash at yours. Closer to here than mine is anyway.” “Awesome,” he grinned at you, “c’mon, this way….babe?” “Didn’t sound so convincing there, Ben,” you snorted. “You should have used a pet name then, instead of my actual one. And I was just testing the waters, what’d you think?” “Babe’s okay. As long as we don’t get into weirdly cutesie things like turtle dove or snookums.” “You don’t want me to call you snookums? How about cuddle bunny? Pumpkin pie?” “Oh fuck off,” “Think you mean fuck off honey bear.” “Rule 5: Standard pet names only!”

As much as he clearly enjoyed teasing you, Ben made sure you had a good time with him. He took your hand again but it was only so he could pull you into the warmth of a small Chinese restaurant. It was one he seemed to regularly visit judging by the way the man at the counter knew Ben’s order straight away. He seemed a little surprised when Ben asked to add extra dishes, eyes darting to your entwined hands, and then back to Ben’s face, but he said nothing, just cheerily gave Ben the new price. “What was that about?” you asked as you walked the last block to Ben’s door, each of you carrying a bag, his full of food and yours supplies from the grocery store, “the look he gave you when he saw me?” “Oh, that’s nothing. I used to go to that place a lot with my ex and then we broke up and I kept going on my own cause it’s close and it’s fucking good food. But, um, they know me pretty well and I guess it’s been a while since I took a girl there.” “Well I’m flattered that you chose me to be part of this touching moment,” you laughed and followed Ben to his front door, taking the second bag from him so he could pull his keys from his pocket and let you in. You’d never been inside Ben’s place before so you let him lead you down the hallway towards the kitchen, taking charge of pulling everything from the bags as Ben got out plates and cutlery. “Oh shit, hang on gotta text Mary and Peter,” You took over dividing up the food as Ben dug his phone out of his pocket. A few seconds after he’d sent the message and put his phone down a ding made him snatch it back up again. “Peter says there’ll be someone here to snap us while we leave. They want us to kiss if possible. Guess it’s really started then,” “Guess so. Can I ask one thing?” “Sure,” he said it slowly, almost nervously. “Why’d you change your mind about this? I thought for sure you’d say no.” “Oh, that. I don’t know, I guess I figured it wouldn’t hurt, especially if it was going to benefit the movie. C’mon, don’t want this to go cold,” You weren't sure you believed him but you let him shrug off the question as you picked up your plate and followed him into the living room. The next couple of hours were spent eating and watching trashy reality tv shows, making jokes at their expense. You and Ben kept talking long after the show ended, until he realised how late it was getting. “Better turn in otherwise I won’t get up in the morning,” he laughed. “Yeah, probably a good plan,” you stretched out on the couch, placing a cushion under your head. “C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.” “You mean I’m not sleeping on the couch?” “Oh my god you’re a dork,” he threw another cushion at you, “I have a spare room you can use.” “Well I didn’t know that,” you laughed as you pushed yourself to your feet, following him back down the hallway towards a closed door you hadn’t noticed before. “Nah, you’re all good. It’s honestly mostly used by my friend Joe when he’s travelling over this way. There’re clean sheets in the linen press in the bathroom which is the next door on the right, and extra blankets in the cupboard just there. Also watch the blinds if you try to close them, they can be a little stiff. If there’s anything else you need let me know, my bedroom is at the end of the hall, near the living room.” “Some PJs would be good, if it’s no trouble.” “Oh right, yeah of course, give me a second.” You dropped your bag in a corner of the room and then popped into the bathroom to grab some sheets. Ben came back with an old t-shirt and some flannel pants. “These are mine so they’ll probably be a bit big but they’ll be fine for the night. And they’ll look good for the camera in the morning.” “Thanks,” “That everything?” “Think so, night Ben,” “Night, snookums.” “Rule five mister,” Ben just laughed, pulling your door shut behind him.

Waking up in Ben’s spare room was mildly confusing. The bed faced a different direction than yours did, the blinds blocked out too much of the morning light, and the sheets felt different. But the previous night came back to you and then the reason you were staying at Ben’s did too. It made you too nervous to go back to sleep, too restless to stay there, so you got up and stumbled to the door, opening it just in time to see Ben leaving the bathroom. “Morning,” he groaned with half shut eyes and sleep mussed hair, “you want a coffee?” “Please. Thanks.” He yawned, acknowledging your answer with a nod and left the bathroom to you. When you were done you found him in the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands and a second on the bench in front of him. You took it gratefully, letting the warm caffeine wake you up.” “Breakfast? I can offer you toast or cereal unless you wanna wait for pancakes to cook.” You shook your head, “Don’t normally eat breakfast,” Ben looked aghast, “You know breakfast’s important, right?” “Shhh, lemme wake up before you start lecturing me,” Ben smiled into his own mug, falling silent until you’d downed half your drink, “You good now? Alert?” “Close enough. Please don’t tell me about breakfast though.” “I wasn’t going to. There was another text from Peter this morning.” “What’d it say?” “Well, a photographer will be here around nine-ish ready for us, but they said he’ll stay for as long as we take.” “Okay.” “And, um, he was very careful in how he worded it, but they want us to look like we fucked. Also I told them I’d take you home so there may be someone waiting for us there too, he never got back to me on it.” “Shit, okay. Umm, guess I’ll just wear this then?” you indicated the pyjamas you’d borrowed, “might lose the pants though, help sell it a bit more.” “Yeah, guess so,” Ben cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee, his eyes firmly fixed over your shoulder. “What time is is?” “Uhhhh,” he glanced at the oven, “Twenty past eight.” “God I haven’t been up this early on a weekend in months.” “Not one for farmers markets or anything then?” “Not really. Much prefer lying in bed doing nothing.” “Me too,” “We’re meant for each other,” you laughed, “did you want to have a shower or anything?” “Nah, you can if you want though,” “Might as well wait until I get home. But I am gonna clean my teeth, especially if we have to kiss.” “Maybe mess up your hair too, make it look like you didn’t sleep much.” “Well how could I when you’re such a good lover,” “I know you’re joking but if anyone asks, I’m incredible. You came like three times.” “Did I now?” “Of course.” “Good thing no one’s gonna ask then, don’t think I’m great at lying.” “You’re an actress, Y/N. Besides, it’s not really a lie, I am that good. You just haven’t experienced it personally.” You poked your tongue out at Ben as you stood and headed towards the bathroom again but you did as he’d suggested and messed your hair up as much as you could.

“How do I look?” you ask Ben when you were done. “Gorgeous,” he said, eyes raking over every inch of your appearance from the ruffled hair to the hint of panda eyes you’d manufactured with your eyeshadow to the slightly unbuttoned flannel shirt and missing pants. “But do I look like I’ve been thoroughly fucked?” “Oh, right, umm, yes I think so,” “You do? I feel like theres something missing.” You darted back into the bathroom to look in the mirror again, “Oh! I know. Might be taking it a bit far though.” “What is it?” Ben asked, following you and watching you in the mirror. “What if you gave me a hickey?” “Y/N, I-” “Yeah, I know, that’s a weird thing to ask. Don’t worry, I think we’ll be fine without it.” Ben’s cheeks puffed up with air that he slowly let escape his lips, “no, you’re right, if I’d really slept with you last night I would have marked you up a bit. A hickey will definitely make it look more authentic.” “It’s not totally inappropriate for me to ask?” “No, no, we have to make it look legit, it’s a good suggestion. Here, I’ll uhh,” he stepped in close, one hand tentatively winding around your waist to pull you back against him, the other moving to push your hair aside. His breath was hot as he leaned into your neck. You saw him glance at your reflection, eyebrows slightly furrowed, but then his lips were on your skin, sucking at you until a bruise formed. Your own breath quickened with the contact but you knew it was just because he’d found a particularly sensitive spot and it had been a while since anyone had handled you like that. It was still just Ben and it was still part of your jobs. But all the same you let your eyes slip shut and hummed at how nice it felt. You were almost disappointed when it was over. Ben stood there for a moment, head bent over your neck, long enough to take a deep breath, but then he seemed to collect himself, taking a quick step back. “Will that do?” “It’s great Ben, really ties the whole look together.” Ben returned your smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Good. Good. Okay then, I’ll umm, what time is it?” “Just after nine,” you said, glancing at your phone, “wonder if the photographer is here yet.” “I think I will jump in for that shower actually, by the time I’m done he definitely will be.” “Okay,” “Make yourself comfortable though, watch some TV or something.” “Alright. Thanks for being so cool about all this. I know you’re a little sceptical about the benefits and everything.” “It’s fine, Y/N, no need for any of that.” He smiled again as you left the bathroom and the door shut behind you, but it still seemed off.

You settled onto the couch to flick TV channels, pausing at a breakfast news show and then at some kids cartoon you didn’t recognise, only stopping when Ben entered the room, clean and dressed. “Hey, I was wondering,” you said, turning towards him, “should I give you a hickey as well?” “No,” You were a little taken aback by how quickly he’d answered. “I mean, I think that’d be overkill. Keep it up our sleeves for next time, yeah?” “Okay, yeah, sure,” “Is he there?” “I think so.” Ben walked towards the window and twitched the curtain aside just enough to peek out, “Yeah, looks like him. Big camera pointing at my front door.” “Okay,” your heart began to beat a little faster, “show time then,” “Show time.” Ben nodded as he turned back to you. “Do we have a plan? I kinda wish I had a script right about now,” Ben laughed a little and you thought he seemed more himself, “I think you should go out first so they can get a good clean shot and then I come out after, maybe with my hand on your back?” “Sounds good,” “Okay, umm, I’ll lock the door and when I turn around you kiss me and then I’ll open the passenger door for you and we’ll drive to your place.” “Don’t bother opening my door. I’m not big into that kind of gesture, plus I think if we were actually being caught by the paparazzi, we’d be getting into the car as quick as possible. Maybe throw a look his way like you aren’t happy about being photographed just so it doesn’t seem too staged.” “Okay, no opening doors, noted.” You shrugged, “I just think it’s a bit old fashioned and unnecessary,” “I’ll keep that in mind for our dates. You ready to do this?” You nodded and stood up, leading the way to the front door. Ben collected his keys and wallet and placed a hand on the lower part of your back, your signal to open the door and step outside. “Kinda wish I had pants on,” you said softly, “It’s a bit brisk,” Ben chuckled as he followed you out, “We’ll put the heating on in the car for you,” he turned to lock the door. You watched him, fingers gripping the key a little tighter than he perhaps normally would, and as soon as he began to turn back around you were moving towards him, one hand thrown around his neck, the other in his hair as your pressed your lips to his. His hand found your back again, pulling you in close as he kissed you back fiercely, as if he were unwilling to let you go after such a good night together, the kiss of a man falling in love. For half a second you forgot it was an act. And then he was gone, his nose brushing yours briefly before there was space between you. You felt a little dazed with Ben looking at you so softly but you took a deep breath and reality came back to you. With another breath your turned and headed towards the car, able to hear the rapid click click click of the camera. You shot a look towards the noise and then got into the car, Ben hopping into the driver’s seat about a second later.

“You’re a good actor,” you said before silence could settle between you, “I already knew that, of course, but the kiss was really good. Almost completely believable.” “As long as it’s believable enough in the photos,” “I’m sure it will be. I think we pulled it off.” Ben nodded, “Yeah. You still chilly?” “Little bit,” He reached over and twisted one of the dials blindly, warm air suddenly washing over your goosebump covered legs, “better?” “So much, thanks.” “I think he might be following us,” “You did tell them we were going to mine, s’pose he’ll be trying to grab a couple of shots of us there.” “Yeah, probably.” “Should we come up with another game plan? Maybe you walk me to my door, we stand there talking for a bit, saying goodbye. I stay and watch you leave before I go inside.” “Perfect. Is another kiss part of the goodbye?” “Careful Ben, you sound almost like you want to kiss me,” you laughed, “but yes, think it needs to be.”

It went completely according to plan. By the time you were getting out of the car the photographer had pulled up outside your house, his camera sticking out the window of his car so he didn’t miss his shot. The camera clicked as Ben took your hand and you led him to your door. “Well, guess that’s it for today. I did have fun with you last night, even if it wasn’t the kind of fun everyone else will think it was.” “Yeah, me too. Happy to have you stay anytime you want to be photographed again. Maybe we’ll get you some PJs that can live at mine though.” “Probably for the best. If this goes well I can see them wanting us to do it again soon.” “Oh definitely. They’ll probably have notes for us so we can get an even better performance next time. You ready to wow them with another kiss?” “Lay it on me, babe,” “Anything you want, snookums,” You groaned but before you could protest too much Ben was kissing you again, softer than before, no longer trying to convince you to stay, just trying to prolong the moment before the goodbye. It left you a little breathless as he cupped your cheek, leaving his hand there when he pulled away. As you opened your eyes you saw him bite his lip and then he leaned in to leave you with a final chaste peck before his fingers slipped from your skin and he was walking away. You let out a long exhale as you watched him go, waving as the car took off. Once you were alone inside, the door firmly shut behind you, you laughed at how ridiculous the whole arrangement was. But at least Ben was a good kisser. Not too firm, not too wet, just the right amount of tongue. Believable enough to give you butterflies.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ahhhh #this was fun #i hope ya'll like it

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mimosaeyes · 5 years ago

Text

It’s the fear, not the miles, that wears them down.

Jon and Martin take a break from trekking through the apocalypse. Nebulously set post-164. Quick fluff, 1.5k

Beta-ed by @distortion-noodles (main blog: @nifeandaccurateprophefies) and @sequoiawintersnight. *Tim voice* Double beta?! Indeed. You both spoil me.

“Right,” Martin says, on what he thinks is their third day walking without a break. He’s probably underestimating, too. “I don’t care if the natural laws of the universe have been re-written. It can’t be good to keep going like this.”

It takes Jon a moment to surface out of his reverie. “Hm? Oh. We could stop for... I was going to say ‘the night,’ but, well.”

They come to a halt anyway, after struggling out of a field of tall grass that seems oddly reluctant to let them go. Which is a little sinister, even in a world where the sky looks back at you. For good measure, they climb a nearby hillock, all the while brushing bits of vegetation off their clothes.

Martin stands at the top and squints at what used to be the horizon. He doesn’t do that a lot. Now, when he tries to find the points where the sun used to rise and set, his eyes tend to be drawn to the Panopticon instead.

Also, one time he’d seen something in the distance that looked alarmingly like livestock falling out of a glowing cloud. He’s not eager to witness any other such phenomena.

Jon’s elbow brushes his arm as he comes to stand next to Martin. “Do you feel tired?” he asks, also staring out across the landscape.

I feel like I should be. Even as Martin thinks this, his mind snags on the tentative, almost brittle note in Jon’s voice, and the way he placed a faint emphasis on you. Jon always sounds cautious when he asks Martin a question, from the effort of trying not to compel him, but this is different. “Oh, don’t do that,” Martin says, turning to look at Jon disapprovingly.

Jon blinks. “I’d say I have good reason to enquire after your wellbeing in the middle of a dystopian hellscape.”

“You always use more polysyllabic words when you’re uncomfortable, I don’t know if you’ve noticed. Anyway, I wasn’t talking about you fussing.” Martin flicks Jon gently on the forehead. “I was talking about you spending the last hundred eldritch-kilometres moping about being a monster.”

“Actually, even though London is a little over four hundred miles from the Scottish Highlands, we’ve walked about five hundred miles so far,” Jon says helpfully. “You know, insofar as distance has any meaning anymore. We’re like that song by The Proclaimers.”

“Stop trying to distract me with pop culture references, you... post-apocalyptic pedometer.”

They stare at each other for a long second, then burst out laughing. It slightly eases the tension that’s been building up in Martin’s chest.

As Jon’s laughter peters out, he sighs and looks at Martin, still smiling. “Alright, yes. I admit, I may have spent the last while thinking about how, unlike you, I’m no longer human enough to get tired. Or apparently, take a shortcut through a Distortion corridor. I wouldn’t call it moping—”

“Yet he supposedly knows everything.”

“—but,” Jon pauses to give Martin a flat look, “I can’t imagine how you got all that from four words.”

“What can I say? I’m well-versed in Jonathan Sims-ese.”

Martin’s small smile falters before he even realises he’s going to continue. “And, well. Worrying about you gives me something else to do, besides feel terrified and angry all the time. That’s what I’m really sick of, I think; not the walking.”

“Angry?” Jon repeats quietly.

Martin just shrugs. “Magnus used you. Of course I’m angry.”

His hand has clenched into a fist unconsciously. He only notices when Jon reaches out to take it. “I think I can help with the other thing,” Jon muses. It’s not quite an offer.

“How?” Martin stares at where Jon is slowly unfurling his fingers.

“By showing you something. If you’ll let me. I — I know you didn’t have the best experience of this, with... Elias, as we knew him at the time.”

Your mother simply hates you. You want to know what she sees when she looks at you?

Martin shudders despite himself.

Then he whispers, “Okay.”

Because it’s Jon, whose scarred skin is so familiar against his. Because some part of him knows that all the pain in the world couldn’t make Jon’s touch ungentle.

“This is what I see,” Jon tells him, “when I look at you.”

Distantly, he hears the static that accompanies Jon using his Beholding powers. It drowns out the noises of the apocalypse — the unnatural wind, the cries, the wet slip of flesh. The distant bagpipes and gunfire and buzzing of flies that Martin still hasn’t left behind, not really.

He’s no longer standing under an acid-trip sky. He does a double-take before he figures out what he’s looking at: himself, or at least the top of his head, pillowed on Jon’s belly. He recognises their bedroom in the cottage, even if he doesn’t remember this moment. They’re dozing, insouciant, even breathing in tandem. Light spills from the window and pools over them, golden and heavy.

“I promise, this is the only time I watched you sleep,” Jon says, but not the Jon whose eyes he is seeing through. “Before the world ended, at least. While slumber was still peaceful.”

Martin has the absurd, intuitive impression that his voice arrives directly in his mind, bypassing his ears. This doesn’t freak him out as much as he thinks it should.

“It’s not like you haven’t done creepier things around me,” he points out, instinctively speaking in hushed tones.

Dream-Martin huffs and snuggles even closer to Jon. Martin frowns. “Hang on — isn’t that where you’re missing a rib? Aren’t I hurting you?”

“I thought it was sort of poetic,” Jon says ruefully. “You, in the place of something vital that protected me.”

They both watch as Dream-Jon lifts a hand from the duvet and cards his fingers ever so lightly through Martin’s hair.

“Armour and anchor,” Jon muses, almost to himself.

It doesn’t escape Martin’s notice that he hasn’t actually said no to his question. The sentiment still makes his breath catch in his throat.

With a slight effort of will, and little idea beyond that of how exactly he does it, Martin separates his perspective from Dream-Jon’s. Instead of gazing down at himself, he finds himself standing off to one side, feeling even more of a voyeur to his own past happiness. He’s suddenly very conscious of the grime that has accumulated on his trousers and boots, from wading through various bogs filled with nasty surprises.

Martin turns to his right, knowing before he sees him that he’ll find Jon standing there. This Jon looks wary and travel-worn, his hair hanging raggedly around his sharp, angular face. He offers Martin a faint smile.

“Maybe you should try writing some sappy poetry,” Martin says at last, but too softly for it to come across as teasing.

Jon seems to hear what he means underneath the words. “I thought this might help,” he murmurs, pleased.

Martin steps closer, close enough to tuck the grey locks behind Jon’s ears. “You know,” he says slowly, “you said this is a world where we can’t trust comfort.” Jon’s face begins to harden with old guilt. Martin quickly continues, “But I trust you. So... so maybe think about that, the next time you need to stop being all mopey.”

Jon’s shoulders sag. “Oh,” he says. “Alright.”

A dreadful thought occurs to Martin. “This — this is real, though. Right? Where we are, this is a real memory.”

“Yes.”

“So we’re... in your mind, somehow?”

“You wouldn’t want to be in my mind right now,” Jon says, his tone matter-of-fact. His eyes flick briefly to the bedroom door. His expression darkens, perhaps at the thought of what lies beyond it. “This is where I come for some quiet from — from everything, when it feels like I know too much. You might say it’s the... eye of the storm.”

A beat. “Can I smack you metaphysically for that joke?”

“Rude.” Jon manages to make the word sound impossibly fond. He grips Martin’s arm, and eases them out of the memory with another wave of static. Or perhaps he lets it fade away from them. In any case, Martin blinks, and they are back in the end of the world.

It’s still pretty dire. But the tension, the feeling of being perpetually braced for worse — that’s mostly subsided. At least for now.

“Better?” Jon asks. He scuffs his shoe against the ground, almost shy.

Martin smiles fully for what feels like the first time in ages, cups Jon’s cheek, and kisses him. Thank you, he thinks, and I love you, and You could never be a monster in my eyes.

Jon hums as they pull apart, then presses their foreheads together for a moment. His breaths break warm and soft on Martin’s skin. Martin kisses his forehead, too, before holding out his hand for Jon’s.

Once more, they look out at the long way they have left to go. Then, holding tight to each other, they start walking again.

[also available here on AO3]

[my TMA fics on AO3]

#the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #mimofic

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caandlelit · 4 years ago

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omg werewolf matsukawa elaborate i want dem hcs

ok so ive got this horrible word doc with my jambled mess of a concept for this witch makki werewolf matsun fic im writing its like 3% done expect it within 2 business years

(edit. this post is too long but i cant stop typing this is good)

werewolf matsun is the SEXIEST idea ever anyone thats done it is doing gods work because that shit is hot . its fucking sexy okay

in my barely formed au he becomes a werewolf in third year

he hears about weird sounds in the forest at night ok

and he convinces witch hanamaki that they shld camp out and see what it is

because he’s been so interested in the witchy supernatural shit since even before he met him

and hanamaki is like okay fine But im wearing my warding pendent and matsukawa is like WHEN WILL U ADMIT YOU’RE A WITCH and hanamaki, mid-putting on his witch hat, ruffles his hair and says idk what ur talking about

they camp out and they’re just bantering and its cute and fun for 2 hours then

matsun hears growling and snapping noises and he’s like hanamaki stay in the fuckin tent

and obviously hanamaki is like on god that is the stupidest thing uve ever said issei no

and matsukawa steps outside and he holds a hand back to stop makki and he steps out and looks around, eyes narrows

and he’s like … straightening up and furrows his brows and ‘theres nothing here’

and he feels like everything is slow and odd and unreal and he turns and sees bright, yellow eyes and he hears the snarl and jerks back

and he’s being attacked and leaped upon and he shouts curses and screams and theres sharp teeth at his side and the smell of matted fur

and hanamaki sprints out and ?? magic spells it away (leave me alone)

what is the spell? what kindof witch is hanamaki? what does he say?

(begone thot!)

the wolf creature howls and thuds off, fast and loping and hanamaki turns and he’s panicked and is like ‘issei? oh FUCK’

matsukawa is like fuck fuck fuck

leaning against a tree and lightheaded and he collapses, head back against the trunk and sweat pouring down his temples, iron in his mouth where hes biting his tongue to keep from scremaing at the sharp pain

touches his side and his fingers come away bloody

his breath is heavy and hes like takahiro im dying

and hanamaki’s dropping down beside him and lifts his arm and says shut the fuck up you’re not dying you asshole and hes sniffling

and matsuns like im sorry i dragged u out here and hanamaki’s like shut up shut up. issei. shit . issei you were right

and hes like wh what was i right about and hes like you were right. im a witch . and youre not fucking dying here, asshole

issei mumbles fuck yeah and does like a little fist pump

and he whispers a spell to carry him over back to his house

and he bandages him up and matsun is tired and in pain and staring at him in the moonlight

MONDAY

go to school and matsun has white bandages wrapped around his side hidden under his shirt and hes a little scraped up even though hanamaki healed and cleaned up as much as he could

someones like oooh matsukawa your arm is scraped up wtf

and hes like yeah man i got in a fight to protect takahiros honor

makki’s like yeah…. :/// he lost

and matsuns like shut up asshole and theyre laughing and theyre good theyre okay

half way through the school day, long and tired and the bell seems louder and harsher and shriller and everything is too bright and loud and making his eyes and ears hurt

in the bathroom matsun takes off the tape bc hes feeling nauseous and everything feels a little too much for some reason hes assuming bc of the wound, maybe its infected

and he checks it while hes inside and the bandages come off and

its clean no bite no blood no mark

and he stares at it and says what the fuck and texts hanamaki

and hanamaki sees the text and its just ‘SOS BATHROOM NOW PLELASE’

asks his teacher to let him go to the bathroom and he steps into the bathroom and matsun spins around and gestures at his side and chest wordlessly

hanamaki like blinks at the sight of matsuns abs and then blinks again at the healed skin and hes like what the fuck

he has sharper vision and sense of smell and hearing

and hes like takahiro……..everything feels horrible and too much and hanamaki’s like ok so what do u want me to do knock u out so u don’t feel anything? and matsukawa’s like huh actually and hana’s like Shut up Dumbass

werewolf matsukawa suddenly stronger and hanamaki so so bitter about it ignoring his personal ‘im attracted to him’ feelings and pretending hes mad abt the super strength

matsukawa’s eyes glinting yellow on occasion and hanamaki trying not to scream bc god that’s sexy

the day they see the healed skin they like walk home silent and shell shocked

matsukawa staring hollowly at the sidewalk his posture lost

hanamaki squinting off into the distance

makki opening his mouth angrily at one point

only to close it defeatedly bc he cant even……

a conversation in hanamaki’s bedroom along the lines of

‘issei why is my life literally teen wolf why am I stiles from teen wolf’

matsun perks up ‘oh that’s dylan o briens character right? does that make me derek !!!’

and hanamaki turns from where hes muttering angrily and squints at him and says slowly

‘why the fu- dude? u r scott ??? because u are a FUCKING WEREWOLF ??????? why would u be derek ???? ur my best friend that turned into a GODDAMN WEREWOLF-‘

‘okok calm down hiro fine fine chill out‘

matsuns like slumping like ‘ugh, scott. i don’t wanna be scott hes painfully straight-‘

and hanamakis like throwing his hands up and shouting like ‘SO THEN !! why would u want to be derek!!!’

and issei’s like ‘…….nevermind we r not in the state to have a conversation about teen wolf, a show neither of us finished and obviously dont have any knowledge about’

im gonna have it properly set in 2013 itll be so cringey and fun

matsukawa also has insomnia and and gets migraines sometimes

and hanamaki’s witchy incense smelling house and bedroom having him nodding off so easily and he sleeps over a lot

especially after he gets bitten, because the migraines get worse

moreso near the full moon

and he comes in through the window and hanamaki is half asleep but always automatically pulls up his blanket and lets him in

big spoon matsun

he curls into his chest as best as he can, pressed tight between the wall and matsukawa

also i have this

italics: makki

bold: mattsun

list of signs pointing towards issei probably being a werewolf:

got bit by a giant dog-creature the bite mark disappeared next day (???? freaky shit)

sudden super healing and durability (useful for when oikawa serves the ball into your head – lmfao)

sudden heightened senses (my headaches r .. multiplying - :( )

sudden super strength (fuck u issei – i didn’t ask to be bitten takahiro – oh no u were bitten how sad for u and ur six pack – the werewolf actually decided i deserve super strength bc of how cool i am – and immeasurable pain every full moon too huh ???? – ...sacrifices were made)

90% sure he got stupider – sign of a dog brain ?? (FUCK OFF – do u want me to explain what a percentage is <3 – no </3)

hair growth (wtf does that mean ??? – it means i suddenly have more chest hair its very weird – ngl to u u were already pretty hairy - fucker)

eyes turn yellow sometimes (wait, really????? – yes its so fucking weird – that sounds fucking epic actually – no comment)

big dick energy went up the ROOF (ok that’s enough asshole – tell me im lying hiro.)

edit: ok the full moon happened we’re all traumatized and hes definitely a FUCKING werewolf.

ill finish this as a fic one day ill post when i do

might also make a useless porno oneshot with just werewolf matsukawa and ? possibly dancer makki im very into dancer makki atm

long post im very sorry but !!!! thanks for the ask

#ask #digimondestined #matsuhana #my writing #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #it is 2:30 am #goodnight guys #haikyuu #this is a fuckin mess and my word doc is even messier #hq

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reylofanfictionanthology · 5 years ago

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For one is love and both are one in love is now live!

Authors will be revealed next week! For now all fics are anonymous. Treats can be posted through author reveals on 2/21. We will post an updated masterpost at that time.

For one is love and both are one in love collection on AO3 | Gift Fic Master Post Part Two | Treats Masterpost

Gifts Fic Master Post Part One:

ghosts on the shore for aaronBursar

“I meant what I said to you that day on the Death Star. I thought I could never go back. I still think it even now—that I don’t belong here, that I never will.” “But you did come back,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You’re here now. With me. You chose it. Despite everything, we made it, both of us.” They sat in silence for awhile, hands clasped while they watched the camp clear as people finally turned in for the night. Then, suddenly, Ben was struck with an idea. “What if we took a trip?”

Sugar High for abbytheatre08

When Maz Kanata hosts five weeks of a Battle of the Bands competition, Rey Johnson and Kylo Ren find themselves both pitted against one another, and drawn together as the weeks go on.

Delayed For A While for aionimica

Death cannot stop love. All it can do is delay it awhile.

I am ready to follow you even though I don't know where for AlwaysEverlark

Her closest friends want Rey to move on from what happened on Exegol, but she refuses to accept that Ben Solo, her soulmate in the Force, is dead. Instead, she undertakes a rescue mission to bring Ben home--no matter the risk.

A More Perfect Union for america_oreosandkitkats

Rey, new to DC, tags along to a stuffy networking event with her friend -- they're both poor and, hell, there's free booze. Ben, a recruiter for the lobbyist firm he works for, finds the intern with the soft voice and angry eyes a fun challenge -- especially when he finds out she works for his estranged mother Senator Leia Organa.

In the Den of the Darkwolf for Amy326

Rey awakened in the darkwolf’s den.

happy cockus day for andabatae

She prefers the nip of New Hampshire winters, heavy winds blowing in her hair, being bundled up in three layers with pens whose ink freeze fast and thaw slow. She loves warm buildings, and Christmas breaks, and slurping down huge bowls of ramen in the evenings, but being on the ground, a clipboard in her hand, boots on a voter’s doorstep? That’s where she knows she belongs. So there are a lot of things going against Rey Johnson’s introduction to Ben Solo, his moody personality probably the least of her worries, since he’s the reason she’s not outside, making some sort of tangible effort to get his mother elected as president.

Hope Lives for aNerdObsessed

This AU story takes place right after the Battle of Exegol, Rey and Ben have just defeated Palpatine and they are both seriously injured but not mortally wounded. When all hope is lost for them as there is no one coming to get them, old friends of the past come to their aid.

Two Bits (or The Haircut) for Ann3onymous

Three days into their marriage of convenience, Ben and Rey are maybe starting to realize that there’s more to this arrangement than a green card or a cooperative board of directors.

We've Got a Good Thing Here for Anysia

Rey & Ben Solo navigate their feelings in the aftermath of the end of the war. With Ben a "functionally dead" force ghost, Rey has to come to terms with how she will balance restoring liberty to the galaxy and making her relationship with Ben work in a... physical sense. It's a difficult enough task to begin with, and it doesn't help that every time they're alone someone seems to require Rey for something.

Event Horizon for Apisa_B

Rey runs into Kylo Ren on a mission for the Resistance, and they have to work together against their wishes. This would be simple... if working together didn't involve pretending to be married, sharing a hotel room, and a lot of unresolved feelings.

still caught in yesterday's wake for Apricot

Her heart is heavy with fear—fear that one day she will no longer be able to recall the shape of Ben’s face, or the timbre of his voice, or the exact color of his eyes; that her memory of him will fade until she is left with nothing but the pain of his absence, like some phantom limb that aches and aches and aches, relentlessly.

A Dark Day Dream for ArdeaJestin

Ben's come home, but Rey can't face him. Not because of anything he's done, at least not in real life. But in her fantasies? oh yes.

Become Who You Were Meant to Be for Aurae

Kylo is a fighter both by training and by preference. Tactics, not strategy. Action, not discussion. Every instinct in him wants to solve his problems by grabbing his sword and shedding some blood. But those easy days are behind him now. He has a galaxy to run. It would be easier if only he could stop thinking about her.

The Spaces Inbetween for Ayrith (freijya)

It wasn’t the first time. Not the first since Crait and she saw him kneeling and their eyes met with anger and ache and want and everything else they didn’t have to say. No. Not the first, nor the second, nor even the third. This was a well trodden path that they all walked over and over. As if the Force was taking their hands and despite both of them tearing it away, still trying to bring them together. --- Rey and Kylo have been dealing with the Force bond for some time, but it finally reaches a tipping point.

The Least Of What I Could Do for benperor-ren (winterelf86)

"I refuse to play opposite someone who has never had a part in their entire life," sneers Ben. "Either Rey goes or I do."

Niima's for bensolosredemption

Though Niima's is a questionable establishment, it's always been Ben's favorite bar. It's not just because he's inexplicably attracted to the new bartender, either - though he has to admit she might have something to do with it.

Devil Spawn for Biekewieke

After a hot anonymous encounter at The Annual Organa Halloween Ball, Rey realizes she slept with the horrible guy who is her new boss. But he doesn't recognize her! And he asks her to track down his mystery hookup, which she totally agrees to do (wink wink, haha, she's lying). But then she finds out she's pregnant! GASP! What's a scared, pregnant single girl to do? (Other than take a nap because she's exhausted.)

Belonging for bitterbones

Friends-with-benefits except whoops I'm in love with you now and hate seeing you flirt with other people because we're technically not together.

Paradise for bittersnake

For two people whose souls are inseparably united, the question of sex shouldn't be that complicated. Given Ben and Rey's individual histories, however, it really comes as no surprise. But that's all right. They’ll have their whole lives together to figure it out, if Rey and Ben and possibly several hundred generations’ worth of Jedi ghosts have anything to say about the matter. Which they do.

Miss Johnson & the Professor for blackheretic (redlondons)

Her heart wants to erupt through her throat, and she audibly gulps, trying to keep her gaze from the only place it wants to go. Thank fuck his eyes are so hypnotic; she can get lost in them as she stammers for English syllables. “Y-Yes, Dr. Solo?” “Seriously, Rey.” Is he blushing? Surely not. “I’ve known you all year, call me Ben.” “Ben,” she mumbles. It tastes like delicious sacrilege. “I actually think you’re in my bed.” “Huh?” “The couch. I was going to sleep there. Remember?” Rey clutches the blanket to her collarbone, hoping the light fabric is tented loosely enough to cover her breasts. Fuck, why does he have to be so distractingly hot? “No, it’s all right. I don’t mind, Professor.” “Ben," he insists firmly. “And I won’t be able to sleep at all knowing I’m comfy in a bed while you’re sleeping on that thing.”

Owner Malfunction. for Bombastique

One year after surviving Execgol, Rey and Ben Solo find themselves in each other's company after they are both captured while trying to take back the Falcon from Kanjiklub remnants. (AKA - The Force, the Falcon, love, and droids.)

Stealing the Light for bratanimus

Redemption isn’t given. It’s earned. Or: As the galaxy rebuilds from war, the man formerly known as Kylo Ren tries to make peace with the person he was, and the person he’s becoming.

Rey Niima and the American (Hot Piece of) Ass that She Just Wants to Tap, while also Not Dying in the Triwizard Tournament or Becoming Otherwise Inconvenienced or Maimed for Cairdiuil_Paiste

Completed for the prompt: Hogwarts AU! Triwizard tournament time with seventh year Rey representing Hogwarts. She wants to impress the MACUSA representative to strengthen her chances of joining their graduate programme. Too bad American diplomat Ben Solo doesn't seem to like her…

a forest of stars for caisha

Rey works hard at the diner to save up for her long dreamed-of vacation to Finland. She's lonely, but that's not new. What is new is Kylo Ren, the CEO of Orpheus Corp and new boss of her best friend Finn. When Finn and Kylo Ren stop by the diner for lunch, Rey feels as though she's finally met someone who understands her. But who is Kylo Ren, and what's his secret? A Modern Fae AU

I am a Soul Longing for Ceallaigh

Rey has spent the last two years searching the galaxy for clues about how to bring Ben back. Now, finally, it seems she has a solid lead. The planet Xolutel is said to be a vergence in the Force, and myth has it there's a hidden temple where worshipers of the Force were granted their deepest desires. No matter how slim the possibility, Rey owes it to Ben and herself to check it out. She's not known to give up easily.

The World Has Been Sad Since Tuesday for ceciliasheplin

The creature on his bed defied explanation, but Kylo Ren had a distinct feeling that there was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. At least, not in this room. Demons lay in wait outside, but not here. Best not to let anyone know about this.

Be With Me for Chthonia

A force connection between Kylo (Ben), and Rey. It takes place while she is on Ach-To, and he is on the Death Star.

between the shadow and the soul for ClockworkCrow (icemink)

“You and Skywalker have been keeping it a secret,” she said, her eyes searching his face to catch him when he lies. “But I know the truth. I learned it, the day after we fought on Mustafar. That Lord Vader was his father, and your grandfather.” He struggled against her stasis but she pushed back harder, her power swirling around them both. “Rey—” “Don’t you see, Ben?” There was a ghost of a smile on her lips. “The darkness is inside of you, too. You don’t have to keep fighting it. You were meant to be mine.” Mine. . or: Jedi Knight Ben Solo should really stop doing smuggling runs with his father. Kira Ren should really stop trying to turn him to the dark side.

The Rescue for cohava

“What is it?” Ben asked, watching the worry lines form on Rey’s forehead as she checked the message that had just pinged through her datapad. “Poe’s leading the relief efforts on Faratula. There’s a boy there, Force sensitive. Orphaned. Poe says it’s a pretty bad situation.” “Let’s go get him, then,” he said without pausing.

how easy you are to need for Crimson_Alchemistress

The war is finished, yet Rey still carries wounds. They come in the form of nightmares, but Ben is there to comfort her.

stuck on how it feels here next to you for crossingwinter

Around four months ago, Ben and Rey married out of convenience. It had started that way and one of the key reasons why they had agreed to this in the first place was the condition that neither had romantic feelings for the other. This is their life, both head of heels for the other while not really knowing what to do about it.

Blue Sand for Crysania

The pale crimson sun rises above the horizon across the fields. A slight wind gently brushed Rey’s face. She left the ship and coverded herself with a blue scarf from a desert heat. She stepped forward, carefully observing the small city before her. Hot sand was burning her feets despite thick soles of boots. “This is going to be disaster,” she told herself with a crooked smile.

covert mission: baby acquisition for crystanagahori

In which Rey decides she's ready to start a family of her own and Ben Solo, her boss and dear friend, would make the perfect sperm donor. * It was a stupid, girlish crush. One that likely wasn’t reciprocated, and could land her in a world of trouble with HR if she acted brashly. But still, she wanted him. He could waive his parental rights for all she cared. They could enter into some sort of contract, if such things existed. But he was the perfect candidate, the ideal sperm donor. Ben Solo.

hands that hurt, hands that heal for cuddlesome

Rey climbs on top of Ben and makes out with his sopping self after Force healing his stab wound.

It was not Death, for I stood Up for CwenPhy

Emperor Palpatine lied on Exegol; Rey is not his granddaughter. Rey sets off on a journey, led by Obi-Wan Kenobi, to bring Ben Solo back from the World Between Worlds.

Good Boy for dankobah

Rey takes her dog to a nearby veterinary clinic for an emergency and doesn't expect to meet Ben (or anyone) while there.

The Unbreakable Bond for DarkSideOfMe

After Crait, Rey thought she had severed their Force Bond, or at least closed it, but some weeks ago she started feeling it, a presence in the back of her mind. Then she could hear him saying her name or other random words or feelings: concern, anxiety, loneliness, longing..to be fair, she didn’t know who those feelings belonged to, if there were Kylo’s or hers. And that was the other reason to put an end to this; she wasn’t ready to deal with anything different to her anger and disappointment. She had to focus on her training, on the Resistance, in their fight against “his” First Order. She was scared, scared of something she couldn’t put a name to, and last night had just showed her how important it was to break their connection. It was time to read the Jedi texts she’s been putting off for too long.

NiimaRide for datswatutink

Journey urge her not to stop believin' but provide no further clarification before she's strapped in the back seat and they're pulling away from the only real break she's had in twenty-four years.

To Hold and Give Light for dearly

After Exegol, Rey takes an injured Ben back to the Resistance.

a conundrum of lightsabers for devon380black (kryptonian17)

In the aftermath of Crait, Rey is left with two halves of a broken lightsaber she has no idea how to fix. As her force bond conversations with Ben continue, she comes to understand he's the only one who can help her with her problem. Maybe if they can repair one thing, they can repair something else too.

What Happens in Hotel Chandrila for DrPearlGatsby

Accompanying her best friends to a Galaxy Wars convention in Chandrila sounded like a good idea at first. But third-wheeling sucks, and that's how Rey finds herself daydrinking alone at the hotel bar. And then she gets a free drink from a tall, brooding, handsome stranger…

Until the Wild Feelings Leave You for dustoftheancients

Rehabilitating from a battle injury leaves Rey an irritable mess. The way Ben hovers over her does nothing to help.

Kintsugi for ElegyGoldsmith

In the darkest moments, the galaxy is still filled with light.

give me shapes and letters, if it’s not forever for ElleRen31

She holds out her hand, “I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Rey. I work at the flower shop next door.” He must be new, or she’s just a shut-in during work because she would’ve remembered seeing him after a year of being here. “I’m Kylo, I own the tattoo shop.” He points to his building and her eyebrows raise as he shakes her hand. Owner? So he’s the head honcho? She hums to herself and then keeps the smile plastered on her face. Then she sets her sights on the dogs, “What are their names?”

Where the ocean goes for Elywyngirlie

Sometimes getting out alive is the victory. Sometimes the rest takes a little time.

it shall not be death for englishable

Rey of the Jedi Knights is sent with her sword and Holy Fire, to destroy a palace of thorns. It doesn't quite go as planned.

The Reckoning for Erin410

Because of Rey, Ben has grown rather good at waiting. But she’s waiting, too, for something that hasn’t dawned on him yet. [Post-TROS mildly angsty marriage proposal fluff, hope you enjoy!]

Trading Places for Fairleigh

Kylo… Kylo awoke to the sound of her whimpering his name. He sat bolt upright in Rey’s extremely uncomfortable cot. Anxious for her safety, he reached out for her with his mind. Rey? He heard her moan and heat instantly pooled between his legs. Curious. The sensation was different but not unwelcome. Then he saw Rey, or rather he saw himself, naked and writhing on his bed. His mouth fell open. Rey was... masturbating. He watched in awe as she pumped his shaft up and down, slowly but forcefully. Kylo… She called his name again.

You'll Turn for FangirlintheForest

A retelling of the Last Jedi's elevator and throne room scenes with a role reversal twist. Can Smuggler Ben turn Dark Rey?

Building Something Together for fantastic_fanatics

When Ben confronts his new upstairs neighbor who keeps making all manner of odd noises at all manner of hours, he didn't expect what she's doing up there. He also didn't expect her to be so pretty.

Little Starfighter for Fic_me_senseless

Convinced he ruins everything he touches, isolated and lonely Ben Solo successfully pushes everyone away, except for the girl who sees something in him she recognizes.

Benvenuto nella nostra famiglia for gennalannisters

"Well, I have sensitive information here. Dinner is just actually a ploy. It’s actually an interrogation to make sure you didn't read the documents." She turned and smirked at him as they headed down the stairs, "If that's the case, I'm happy to be interrogated through wining and dining.” Love is in the air at Harvard Square.

Binary Suns for gigi_marlee

Young Ben Solo meets a young Rey. The two form an intense and instant attachment to the confusion of Ben's parents and his Uncle, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. What is a dyad and what will it mean for two children who have found belonging in each other?

more everything for HalfwayThrough

"I'm the boss, I've earned the right to show up whenever the fuck I want." He was arrogant, condescending, and an asshole. And he didn't have a mark on his wrist.

One Stick of Unsalted Butter for HopeRebel

Rey's neighbor is the rudest, least considerate person she had to interact with. However, when she runs out of butter in the middle of night trying to bake cookies for Rose's birthday, there is only person she knows is awake and he is her only hope. Of course, things don't go according to plan.

come home, ben for hxllosweetie33

He looked at their hands, watched as Rey intertwined their fingers together, and fought the back the shutter from the contact. “ Rey…” He whispered. She brought her hand to his face – calloused tips brushing against his scar – observing his face, every detail of it, the bags and dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, his dry lips, the lack of light behind his eyes.

Ashes of Life for iamladyloki

Dark Rey becomes a reality and Ben has to remind her who she is

Negotiated Settlement for ilum

General Leia Organa has brought a small team with her to Kaytuu 5, expecting to negotiate a ceasefire between the First Order-controlled planetary government and local Resistance fighters. Unfortunately, Supreme Leader Armitage Hux has other plans. Rey will need the assistance of a Certain Someone who no longer calls himself Kylo Ren if she and her friends are to save the day.

Coming Home for incognitajones

After the Battle of Exegol, Rey and an injured Ben are trapped together on an uninhabited planet.

The Stray for itsinthestars

Rey moves in across the hall from Ben; a former foster kid alone in the city, aspiring to be an actress. Ben is a ladder-climbing white collar businessman with a horrible boss and zero social life. Which is just the way he likes it. So why in the world has this insufferable creature made it her life's work to adopt him? From sharing her dinner to doing his laundry, she seems determined to make a connection. In the end, it's easier for Ben to just let her. But opening up means letting your heart be vulnerable.

Peace and Purpose for itsnotillegal

Across the stars, Rey and Ben yearn for each other, neither able to move on, both facing the unending nights alone. But the Force longs for balance as surely as they long for each other.

Christmas Blues for karlamartinova

The first snow had fallen, covering the ground like a white blanket. The emergence of winter weather always marked the increase of Christmas moods. The season when people fervently decorated their houses and you couldn’t walk through the mall or downtown area without hearing a Christmas jingle. The neighborhood already sparkled with multicolored lights and inflated or authentic snow-made snowmen. Rey Johnson’s festive mood rose with each house she drove by, her fingers tapping on the wheel as “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree”faded and transitioned into another song.

prince and the sea for kuresoto

Prince Ben Chewbacca Solo Organa, descendant of the house of Naberrie and the line of Skywalker, heir to the Starbird pirate fleet, has followed in the family tradition of slaying monsters and ruling the high seas. Which in no way is an attempt at ignoring his soulmate bond.

what stranger miracles for La_Catrina

Ben can’t even manage to die right, apparently.

the universe resting in my arms for Lightningpelt

Rey sees Ben, quietly tooling around the Skywalker homestead, his hands wet with mechanic's grease, and the image is so perfect that she holds her breath, not wanting to mar it with a loud breath.

counting my steps, reaching out to you for Lizardbeth

All her life, Rey has felt snatches of someone else's emotions, seen visions of other places, other people she's certain she's never seen before. In a world where everything had been taken away from her, this connection was hers alone. She is wholly unprepared for the day she finds out that the person at the other end of the connection is a Jedi fighting as part of the Resistance against her delusional Master.

Soulmates for LostInQueue

After Ben Solo disappears in front of her eyes, she finds a way to bring him back, where love began…

Heal for LRRH17

A few weeks after the Battle of Crait, the Force connects Rey and Ben again on several occasions.

Softly, Softly for lucymonster

When the Resistance start to pick up distress calls from defecting Stormtroopers, they move to save as many as they can. It doesn't occur to them that the First Order might be after the same renegades until they're right on top of them.

First Impressions and Unexpected Connections for LueurdeLaube

War has ravaged the galaxy, but finally, there is a chance at peace. Her grandfather arranges for Princess Rey Palpatine to wed the Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, broadcast across the galaxy to usher in the new era. They've never met before, but he's sent her letters.

All These Things That I've Done for MahoganyDoodles

Someone dropped down to Rey's level and reached for the empty plastic shell of her case. She stilled for a moment, afraid that she was about to get smacked with it, afraid to look up. “Sorry about him,” she heard over the sound of her heart beating through her ears. Not Hux? This voice was deeper. Rey looked up and saw Ben Solo in front of her, holding out the case for her, a sympathetic look in his dark brown eyes.

For Now for maq_moon

There are plenty of things he could say, but he doesn’t. Buying you muffins makes me excited to get out of bed in the morning. I wish I could go back in time and be the kind of person you could like. I don’t remember my life before you. ---------- When Kylo finds his soulmate, she doesn't know, and he doesn't tell her.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #rffa writers #for one is love and both are one in love #master post #mod post #moodboard

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