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thefreakandthehair · 16 days ago

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ornament.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: ornament | wc: 999 | rating: teen & up | tags: eddie pov, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, the party, steve's nuggets (+ friends) love him so much, fluff, tree decorating, getting together

Eddie’s sitting on the couch with sweaty palms between Nancy and Steve with Robin to Steve’s right while the kids, including Will and El who’ve moved back to Indiana permanently, sit in a poorly constructed circle near the Christmas tree.

The tree Steve hates.

The reason Eddie’s palms are sweating.

“I just hate this thing,” Steve had sighed as he flicked on the pre-lit white lights. “When I was a kid, I’d beg for the colored lights and when I’d make ornaments in school, mom would give me this polite smile and then I’d never see them on the tree anywhere. It’s always these stupid red and silver bulbs.”

It hadn’t taken much for Eddie to rally their friends and host an ornament painting party, everyone crammed into his trailer under threat of death if they blew the surprise, but now that’s it’s here, Eddie kind of wants to run and hide.

What if he hates it? What if he thinks it’s stupid?

Nancy knocks a knee against his and raises her eyebrows with a quiet smirk. Eddie nods, just one quick jerk of his chin, as his heart clatters in his chest and Nancy excuses herself. It’s telling, probably, that Eddie couldn’t keep the box of ornaments at his trailer because Steve spends too much there with him but Eddie’s too busy wiping his palms on the rough denim of his jeans to unpack that at the moment.

“Where’s she going?” Steve asks.

“We don’t need permission to go to the bathroom, do we?” Robin teases, uncharacteristically smooth in her distraction.

Steve’s too busy needling her back to realize the front door opens and shuts, at least until Nancy comes back in with the shoebox she’d helped Eddie wrap.

“Oh my God, yes!” Dustin pipes up, spotting Nancy and whacking Lucas on the back. “Look!”

“What—” Steve looks around in confusion, mainly down at the box that’s plopped in his lap. “What’s happening?”

“Tell him, Eddie!” Max grins at Eddie, always a little too smart and observant for her own good. Or Eddie’s, for that matter.

“Uh,” he stutters. “Well, we wanted to do something I guess, special? For you? It’s really nothing big but—”

“Will you stop underselling it?” Robin laughs. “It took me days to get that paint off my fingers. It was a big thing!”

“Paint? What are you talking about?” Steve asks again, huffing. “None of your presents are ready yet, so we can put this under the tree or something and then—”

“Nope, you need this before Christmas. That’s the whole point,” Nancy chides, sitting back down next to Eddie. “Right, Eddie?”

“Yeah,” he nods, meeting Steve’s eyes with a blistering vulnerability he’s sure Steve can see, can maybe even feel with his thigh pressed against Eddie’s. “You should open it.”

“Alright, alright,” Steve agrees, sliding a finger beneath the neatly folded paper, peeling back the tape and tossing the wrapping paper to the ground. “Did you guys get me new shoes?”

“Just open it!” Robin snorts beside him and elbows him gently in the stomach.

Eddie holds his breath and hopes he doesn’t pass out as Steve lifts the lid and finds the handmade ornaments carefully placed in the box.

On top of strands of multi-colored lights sit a dozen ornaments with tiny hooks ready to be hung on branches. Lucas’ sits on top, painted to look like a basketball. Max’s is made to look like the nail bat he’d once used to save her life. Robin’s is an ice cream scoop with an anchor painted dead center. Dustin’s looks like a can of hairspray which Eddie still doesn’t completely understand but Dustin assured him that Steve would get it. Jonathan and Argyle’s pizza ornament, mailed from California. One after another, Steve pulls out ornament after ornament with splotchy paint by the people who love Steve more than they’ll ever begin to express.

It’s silent and loud all at once as Eddie watches Steve pick each one up and run his fingers along the imperfections, pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose before he speaks.

“You… you guys make these?” Steve finally asks; soft, hushed.

“We did!” El offers with a cheery smile. “It was Eddie’s idea.”

“Holy shit, this is…” Steve whips over to Eddie, and any nerves he has disappear. He can’t possibly hate it, can’t possibly think it’s stupid when he’s smiling ear to ear, his nose wrinkling from the force of it before he chokes out a laugh that sounds almost like a sob. “Thank you.”

Eddie swallows and feels the heat creeping from beneath his jacket collar. He shrugs and bumps their shoulders together, nods at the kids across the room. “They’re all such great little artists, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t speak for long seconds, staring directly at Eddie until Max, menace that she is, speaks up.

“You guys can kiss after, okay? Can we decorate the tree now?”

Oh, she’s never getting a ride to school from him again.

“Okay, everyone come grab an ornament!” Robin claps her hands together and pats Steve on the back, winking at Eddie as she stands up.

Neither Eddie nor Steve move.

At least, not until the kids have their backs turned with Robin and Nancy trying their hardest to wrangle the kids into wrapping the lights around the tree. Steve leans over, Eddie’s impression of the vest he’d once thrown at Steve— the same vest that tethered Eddie to life as he’d gripped it with bloody fingers while Steve carried him out of the Upside Down— resting in his palm.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Steve whispers, the back of his hand landing on Eddie’s thigh. “Seriously. I can’t tell you… this means a lot, man.”

“They love you, Harrington,” Eddie tries for subtlety but that’s never been his strong suit. “We all do.”

“C’mon,” Steve nods at the tree, his smile reaching his eyes. “The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can prove Max right.”

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steddieholidaydrabbles #myblurbs #hate that i can't write every day right now these prompts are all so good!!

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seokgyuu · 1 year ago

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your boyfriend has been telling you he wants to bring someone else into the bedroom for a while. the thought only started to sound good when a certain boyfriend's best friend posts gym pictures on insta.

pairing: sung hanbin x fem!reader x seok matthew

genre: established relationship (hanbin x fem!reader) , smut MDNI!

smut warnings: cuckold, thigh riding, blowjobs, penetrative sex, dirty talk, usage of the words "princess", "baby", unprotected sex, creampie

wordcount: 4.4k

a/n: happy happy birthday @cheolism!!!!! see, i told you i would whip something up!! you probably didn't believe me, did you? ha! got you there. anyway. happiest birthday, my dear! i hope you enjoy this little piece of filth i made in your honour. one turns 22 only once you know!! in german we say: Schnappszahl! i love you loads, babes, have a wonderful day <3 (ps. it's been your birthday in germany for one hour already so theoretically i am not posting early!!)

“When did Matthew start working out like this?”

You’re laying on your stomach on Hanbin’s bed, biting down on your thumbnail.

“Like… a month ago? He’s been going to the gym forever, but only recently going every day.”

You nod. Yeah, he definitely looks like he hits the gym every day. Gosh, you still remember him as a small (he’s still relatively small), lanky pre-teen with braces and glasses that were too big for his face. None of that is left. Glasses are ditched unless he’s at home playing video games for no one to see. Braces have been gone a long time, leaving him with two rows of perfectly straight white teeth. And last but not least the lankiness has turned into buffness you couldn’t stop staring at on your phone.

“Why do you ask?” Hanbin now rolls over with his chair, eyebrows raised as he looks at your phone screen. You’re not quick enough to move, leading Hanbin to snicker as he places his legs on top of his bed, arms crossed.

“I can explain,” you say now, sitting up, but your boyfriend just grins at you.

“Can you now, princess?” He tilts his head and you bite your lip, suddenly forgetting all the explanations you could possibly come up with. You know your boyfriend - he isn’t the jealous type. If anything… he is the opposite. How many nights had he whispered into your ear that he would love to watch you get fucked by someone else, how he got hard just imagining you on someone else’s cock. All you had done when he said that was turn bright red and let him fuck you senseless after - with his own cock, not anyone else’s.

And now, here you are. Looking at pictures of his best friend (really? out of everyone it had to be Hanbin’s best fucking friend?!) with Hanbin’s eyes sparkling mischievously. It’s obvious what he’s thinking. You clear your throat.

“I don’t- I don’t think you want him to get involved, do you?” You ask carefully and Hanbin leans forward now, smiling.

“Why not? Because he’s been my best friend for years?” He wants to know. When you nod, Hanbin climbs onto the bed, catching you off guard when he wraps his arms around you and brings his lips to your forehead, kissing it softly before looking down at you with yet another one of his beautiful smiles.

“I don’t think there is anyone I’d rather see you getting fucked by, my love.” He says it in such a soft and innocent tone, you can’t help but laugh, burying your head in his chest.

“You’re horrible,” you mumble and Hanbin laughs, bringing one of his hands to the back of your head, patting it lovingly.

“I love you, you know that right? And if you’re really interested in Matt… I am sure I could arrange something.”

The thing is: you say no. Because why would you want to sleep with someone else when you have your perfect boyfriend right there? Your perfect boyfriend that has always cared more about your pleasure than his? That has made you cum more times than you can count? That perfect boyfriend that has never once let you down.

You’re in the cafeteria with your bottle of water and a tray full of food but you can’t eat. Your leg is bouncing up and down and your eyes are focused on one of the trash cans at the far end of the room. Not because they are particularly interesting, but because Matthew sat down just a few tables further from you in nothing but a flimsy muscle shirt and ripped jeans and you really, really can’t look at him. So, the trash can it is.

“Did you see a ghost?” Hao is suddenly next to you, making you flinch and almost knock over the bottle of water.

“Jesus Christ, Hao, next time whistle or something,” you say, frowning at your friend who just shrugs and instead begins eating his food.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost? Is the cafeteria poltergeist back?”

“What? No. No, I am fine. Totally fine. No ghosts.” You clear your throat and catch yourself sneaking a glance at Matthew after all, regretting it immediately. Because why is he flexing right then and there, laughing his cute laugh after when Gyuvin throws a napkin at him. This is torture.

“Ah, right. Matthew,” Hao nods and your head swirls around, eyes wide.

“Matthew, what?” You ask even though you already know. God fucking dammit Sung Hanbin!

“Bin told me,” Hao confirms and you roll your eyes with a groan, “even though I was kind of offended you didn’t want me to be the first to join you two in the bedroom, Y/N.”

“If I were to ever let that happen I’d be single and you and Hanbin happily married with seven children in no time,” you mumble and Hao chuckles, shaking his head and pulling a hand through his hair.

“At least you’re aware I’m actually his favorite,” he hums at you and the desire to copy Gyuvin and throw a napkin at your friend is extremely tempting.

“Whatever.” You try to focus back on your food, but your stomach is rumbling and your brain is somewhere totally different, meaning hunger was the last thing on your mind - at least hunger for actual food.

Hao snickers and watches you, a piece of meat landing on his tongue.

“I think you should do it, Y/N. Hanbin has been dreaming of this moment. Honestly, no idea what he finds so appealing about watching his girlfriend getting fucked by another man, but believe me, you’d make him the happiest man on this earth if you were to bring Matthew into your bedroom.”

The words do more than either of you probably thought. They continue to linger in your mind even hours after Hao had said them, you now being in your dorm with your pen stuck between your teeth, eyes unfocused on the words you’ve been trying to read.

Bring Matthew into your bedroom. Have him be a part of your sex life with Hanbin. Make Hanbin the happiest man on this earth.

It’s official: You’d be lying if you said the whole thing didn’t turn you on. Imagining Hanbin sitting on the little armchair in his apartment with his cock in his hands as you sat on Matthews stiff length, his strong arms wrapped around you as he thrusted up into your needy pussy…

The pen falls down and you are back in reality, flinching and shaking your head. This is crazy. You couldn’t possibly… a groan escapes you and you let your head fall on top of your desk, slamming your forehead against it a few times, before sitting back up and leaning against your chair, letting your thoughts roam free. Hanbin had literally asked you about this several times. He wanted to bring someone else into the bedroom and he even said that he wouldn’t mind it being Matthew. So, what was stopping you?

“Fucking hell,” you curse as you pull both hands through your hair and get up, opening the door of your room to walk into the living space, where you are met with none other than Hanbin walking in… Matthew right behind him. You freeze mid step.

“Hi, I called you, but you didn’t pick up, I hope it’s okay I brought Matt over, we were at the gym and the showers are broken and, well, your apartment is closer.”

Yes, you can clearly see where those two have been. They are sweaty, hair slightly wet, muscle shirts clinging onto their chests. The tattoo on Matthew’s biceps pops out deliciously when he raises his arm to wave at you. Your eyes wander to your boyfriend, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“That’s okay,” you croak out, looking back at Matthew and somehow you just cannot stop yourself from checking him out unapologetically. His defined arms, the defined chest, the sweatpants on his strong legs. Your tongue slips out of your mouth and runs over your dried up bottom lip and Matthew can’t help but stare at you, feeling his cheeks heat up at the way you’re looking at him.

He remembers Hanbin’s words and feels his knees go weak.

“She definitely wants you to fuck her, Matt. She just needs a little… nudge.”

Never had he ever thought his best friend’s girlfriend would ever want him to… do that. He swallows down whatever lump has formed in his throat and looks at Hanbin, unsure. Hanbin, who now walks over to you, his hand softly grabbing your chin, moving your head to look at him.

“I think I should hit the shower first, be a good girl and show Matthew the rest of the apartment, hm?” He kisses your lips softly after that, well aware of what his words just caused. Your eyes flicker up to him, wide and unsure and when he winks at you, squeezing your hand as he slowly makes his way to the door leading into the bathroom, you know that all you can do now is follow your gut.

There is a certain kind of silence between Matthew and you once the door shuts behind Hanbin, a silence filled with tension so thick it takes your breath away. You watch as Matthew slowly drops his bag onto the floor, his shoes vacant next to it. His legs carry him over to you and with every step he takes, your heart picks up speed while the heat between your legs begins to feel almost unbearable. His eyes say much more than words ever could and when he comes to a stop, he lets them linger on your lips long enough for you to almost lose your mind.

“So, what’s behind this door?” He asks, nodding in the direction of the bedroom door. The heat is about to make you pass out.

“B-bedroom,” you stutter back. Matthew grins.

“Well, what did Hanbin hyung say? Be a good girl and show me.”

Oh. Oh. A Wave of desire washes over you as you nod, your hand shaking when you push the door open, following Matthew’s hand movement and walking inside, his body right behind yours. He doesn’t close the door behind him, instead he settles on walking through the room, looking around. You try to steady your breathing, failing miserably.

“It’s a nice bedroom,” he says, nodding to himself, “I like the pictures on your wall. Did you take them?”

When you nod, he smiles at you, obviously impressed.

“You’ve got a good eye.”

As much as you appreciate the compliment - you can’t really focus on anything else but the way he looks in the dim light coming through the window. His arms, his slowly heaving chest. Your eyes roam over his body and you feel hot all over, wondering what it would feel like to touch him, to feel his muscles tighten around you.

He notices, of course he does. It’s not hard to miss - the way you eye him up and down, the way your eyes linger a little too long on his chest, his arms. He feels his blood rush down, feels his dick getting hard at the mere idea of you checking him out, wanting him.

“Maybe,” you begin, not sure where the confidence to speak is coming from but you accept it with open arms, “maybe you should change out of your sweaty clothes.”

His eyebrows shoot up for just a second before they settle back down. He can’t stop the smug smile creeping on his lips, not taking his eyes off you when he starts moving.

“Yeah? Hm, I think you might be right.” His voice is deep and dripping in cockyness that has your pussy clenching. To make matters worse, he comes to a stop in front of you and immediately moves his hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head the next second to reveal a perfectly sculpted torso - abs and chest and collarbones that make your fingers itch to touch them.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, stepping closer to him with your hands stretched out, hands that he now grabs with his, pulling you right into him. While he should smell bad, courtesy of working out, he doesn’t. He looks sweaty, he is sweaty, but he smells heavenly. His cologne mixed with his own scent, musky and sweet at the same time, it lingers in your nose, gets your knees weak and Matt has to wrap an arm around your waist to stop you from actually falling to your knees. The smug smile seems to get even more smug. His eyes are on yours and his arm around you seems to squeeze every ounce of self respect you have left right out of you.

“Careful, darling.” His voice is merely a whisper. His breath hits your face and you can’t stop the whimper escaping your lips now even if you tried. That does it for him. He forgets all about his worries and crashes his lips onto yours, free hand now cupping your cheek, meaning both of your hands were free to find their own place to settle on.

First, you let your right hand feel up his biceps, a moan slipping between your lips when he flexes his arm underneath your grip. The other hand is on his chest, nails digging into his warm skin, causing him to hiss. His teeth sink into your bottom lip and you feel like you could come undone on the spot.

Matthew deepens the kiss, tongue now inside your mouth, wet and hot and perfect and you let both arms wrap around his neck now, his strong arm carrying you over to the bed, where he puts you down, his body now on yours, one of his thighs slipping between yours - giving you the friction you so desperately needed. His lips move fast and rough and you feel like your whole body is on fire when you begin to move your core against his thick thigh, embarrassingly already feeling a climax approaching.

“God, you’re so pretty,” his breathy voice against your ear gets you even closer to the edge. You bite down on your lip, arching your back against him and he begins to kiss your neck, kiss it, lick it, bite down on your sensitive skin, one hand now under your shirt, grabbing your braless tits and squeezing them hard.

“Fuck, Matthew-,” you cry out, nails back to digging into his skin, this time his shoulders. Your hips move uncontrollably against his hard thigh, his tongue now wandering down and finally flicking against your nipple after shoving your top up far enough. Everything inside of you is burning by now. Your clothes feel too hot and you sit up for a second to get rid of your shirt, the wild look in Matthew’s eyes as he watches you is intoxicating. You are quick to wrap your arms around him again when your upper body is freed and he is quick to kiss you again, just as rough as before.

In no time you feel your first orgasm rush over you, a series of whimpers and moans landing in his mouth, against his lips, down his throat as he swallows them.

“Yeah, baby, so pretty when you cum for me, fucking hell, I bet you’re so fucking wet.”

The orgasm is mindblowing. It’s hot and feels forbidden even though you know it’s not. You know Hanbin is probably standing under the stream of water having to restrict himself from touching his cock, from getting off to the thought of you and Matthew alone in your bedroom. There is no time for you to come down from your high, not with Matthew parting from you only to shove you further up the bed with your newest obsession in the form of his arms. Your mouth waters and your eyes widen when you see the clear outline of his arousal between his legs and you can’t stop yourself from sitting back up.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask him.

He groans and nods, pulling his sweatpants down, leaving almost nothing to imagination anymore. His gray briefs are tight around his cock, a cock you can’t wait to taste on your lips and feel its weight on your tongue. You get on all fours, looking up at him and seeing his eyebrow twitch, a smile on your lips when you finally reach him, fingers in the waistband of his underwear, dragging it down his legs next, his thick cock springing free and smacking against his stomach, leaving a small stain right there on his skin. Moving forward, you grab his cock and lick over his stomach, the stain gone in no time, Matthew’s eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

“Fuck.” He breathes out, one hand now on the back of your head, watching you as you begin to pump his cock with one hand, the other helping you keep steady on the mattress. You eye his cock, tongue soon licking his tip clean and Matthew is sure he is about to pass out. His hips buck and you giggle, opening your mouth fully for him to slip inside, easily taking him down your throat, Matthew’s composure about to break. His hand fists your hair, head thrown back as he continues to fuck your mouth. Spit is dripping down onto the bed, spit mixed with his pre and you press your tongue against his shaft, letting him use your throat as much as he likes.

“So, so good for me, baby, taking me so well, fuck.”

His raspy voice has your eyes rolling back and your core starting to throb again. It won’t be long until you need a cock stuffing you full.

“I see you are already acquainted with my princess’ ability to take a cock down her throat no problem.”

Hanbin entered the room with neither of you taking notice. Your heart does a flip, eyes opening and flicking over to your beautiful boyfriend who stands in the door frame, nothing but a towel around his slim body, the tattoo right underneath his neck as well as his v-line on full display for you to drool on Matt’s cock over. Your boyfriend comes closer to you now, Matthew not even taking real notice, too far into his desire. Hanbin stops next to Matthew, smiling to himself as he watches his most beloved girlfriend getting throat fucked by his best friend. The towel does little to hide how much he enjoys the view.

“My perfect girl, I bet you’re so wet, aren’t you?” He pats your cheek softly, eyes warm but sharp. You want to tell him to get behind you, to fuck you as Matthew fucks your mouth, but you know that’s not what he wants.

“Matt, I think it’s time for you to give our little baby here what she needs.” Shit. You moan around Matt’s cock, dizzy from the way Hanbin seems to lose himself in authority in the best way. He’s confident and secure and you don’t think he’s ever been sexier to you. Finally, Matt lets his cock drop from your lips and you wipe over your mouth with the back of your hand, looking from Matt to Hanbin.

“You did so well, baby, ‘am so proud of you.” Hanbin leans forward, kissing your lips and then your cheeks and finally your forehead before looking back at Matthew and giving him the go with a nod.

A few seconds later you’re on your back, Matthew’s cock deep inside you, wrapped in a condom Hanbin had handed him (“The only one cumming inside her is me, sorry bud,” he had said and Matthew had only nodded, too horny to even really care), fucking into you like a madman. Your back was arched and your fingers were wrapped around his biceps that were all nice and hard as he held himself up above you, his hips working at godspeed.

Watching all of this from your desk chair, Hanbin had discarded the towel on the floor, his hand around his leaking cock, watching his best friend fuck his girlfriend just the way she liked it. His eyes are glued to your face, the way it is contoured in nothing but pleasure - your eyes closed shut and your mouth dropped open, the sounds coming out of it more than just music to his ears. You sound like heaven to him - like something no one could ever compare to. He licks over his lips, stroking his cock a little quicker as he lets his eyes roam over the rest of you; your tits as they bounce up and down, your legs crossed around Matthew’s waist. Everything about you is perfect and he can’t believe he got to finally see your pleasure from this point of view.

“G-gonna cum, fuck, sh-shit,” Matthew feels himself tumbling over the edge, his head dipping down to kiss your neck and lick up to your lips, pulling you into a kiss that takes your already harbored breath away. He moves faster, with less control and finally, when he feels you clench around his cock over and over - hot cum shoots out of his exhausted cock and into the condom, for a split second wishing there wasn’t one.

He rides out his orgasm, kissing your lips and cheeks and moving down to your neck, your hands in his hair now, enjoying the way he twitches inside of you. When he rolls off your body, he is still trying to catch his breath, even more sweaty than before. With all of the tension and arousal gone, he now starts to feel blood rush to his cheeks, slowly looking over at you only to see you fondly smiling at him.

“Thanks,” you giggle, letting your fingers brush through his wet bangs. He smiles, showing his rows of white teeth.

“Right back at you,” he says, looking at Hanbin then, who has gotten up. He exchanges glances and nods, knowing that this next part is not for his eyes.

“Guess I’ll finally hit the shower then.” Matthew chuckles, getting off the bed and hurrying to the door that he ends up closing this time.

Hanbin is on top of you a second later, his lips devouring yours, hands on your face, cock pressing against the inside of your thigh. You sigh into his mouth, hands on his nape as you kiss him back, butterflies everywhere, your stomach feeling like you’re flying.

“You did so well, baby, made me so happy, so horny, god, I love you,” he kisses you between every word and you giggle, wrapping your legs around him.

“I love you too, need you, too, please fill me up, Hannie.”

He nods, kissing the corner of your mouth before skillfully turning you around, slipping into your pussy through your legs flat on the mattress. Fuck. You love it when he fucks you like this. His mouth is right by your ear, his cock easily slipping into you, the moan he lets out making your pussy flutter.

“So wet baby, did he fuck you well, hm? Liked his cock in your mouth? Your pussy?” He whispers into your ear, his hips beginning to fuck you into the mattress hard. You cry out, hands gripping the bed sheets.

“Y-Yes! Liked it a lot.”

“Hm, bet you did. Bet you would have loved it if I had fucked you when you had his cock in your mouth, isn’t that right, baby?” His hips are so skilled, know exactly how to move to make you lose your mind, forget all your words. So, all you can do is nod your head yes.

Hanbin chuckles, kissing the back of your neck.

“I am so lucky to have you.”

His speed triples after this. He ruts into you like it’s his life goal to have you coming undone on his cock, to have his seed spill into you and claim you as his. Your cries of pleasure make him go even harder, the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy so lewd it has both of your heads spinning. When you feel your second climax approaching, you clench around him, Hanbin biting into your shoulder as he continues his thrusts. Neither of you will hold out any longer and so, when he gives you permission with a sweet kiss and a “cum for me, princess”, you can’t help yourself. Pleasure runs through every inch of your body, pulsating around Hanbin’s cock and taking him over the edge with you.

“Yeah, baby, that’s it, shit,” Hanbin empties inside you, hot cum filling your spent pussy and you cry out his name over and over again, just as he does yours. All through getting down from his high, he showers your back with kisses, hands caressing your sides. When he slips out of you and helps turn you on your back, you feel his release dripping out too and he is quick to stuff it back in with his slim fingers, your pussy clenching as you whimper in overstimulation.

“Bin!” Your hands both move to his wrist, eyes wide and he grins, the wrinkles under his eyes making you all soft inside.

“Sorry, baby. Just making sure what’s yours stays in there.” He kisses the top of your nose and you roll your eyes at him, swatting at his shoulder.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth.”

Your boyfriend just laughs, kissing you lovingly, free hand caressing your cheek.

Someone clearing their throat in the door makes you part again. There stands Matthew, his eyes glued to the both of you with something like uncertainty in his gaze.

“I just- uh, I just wanted to know where, uh, where you kept the towels.”

You can see clearly that he’s been watching you longer than a few seconds. You and Hanbin share a look before you burst out laughing.

“Maybe we should take a shower together. All three of us,” You say, grinning from Hanbin to Matthew. They both are visibly surprised at your proposal, Matthew looking a little unsure when his and Hanbin’s gaze meet.

“Sounds like a wonderful plan to me, sweetheart. I could definitely use another shower after this.” Hanbin grins happily. And Matthew thinks that maybe he could get used to this.

#ksmutsociety #sung hanbin x reader #hanbin x reader #seok matthew x reader #matthew x reader #zb1 fanfiction #zb1 smut #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone smut #zerobaseone fanfiction #sung hanbin smut #hanbin smut #seok matthew smut #matthew smut #mattbin smut #zerobaseone imagines

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wososcripts · 7 months ago

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Face to Face (IV)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: An attempt to make amends.

A/N: we're nearing the end!! not sure how I feel about this part... hopefully it's okay

Word Count: 3k

Warnings ⚠️: none?

PREVIOUS PART

The next few days followed in a similar manner. Alexia brought you to the pitch even though you couldn't play, and you sat there for a few hours until they were done. Occasionally Jona would come over to see you, or Olga would stop by with food. Ana Maria even drove over from Madrid to see you and take you out for the day. But mostly you slept, listened to podcasts, and thought about what the hell you were going to do about Frido.

She still hadn't spoken to you and the team was starting to notice. It's not like the two of you were very close before (at least publicly) but now it was a conscious avoidance. The rest of the girls often kept you company when they could on breaks or in between drills.

It was only after five days, on Friday afternoon, that she approached you.

“Hi…” Frido said softly.

You looked up at her from where you sat on the pitch. You had been doing light stretches on your calves, still not allowed to do anything strenuous until next week.

“Hi, Frido.” You said plainly.

You tried not to react emotionally despite the fact that this was the first time she was speaking to you since the incident. She hadn’t even called to say she was sorry. It all seemed to confirm she really didn’t give a damn about you—didn’t have the courtesy to treat you like a stranger even.

“How are you feeling?”

Her careful, soft tone enraged you.

“Not so good, actually. My head fucking hurts, I’m sick of sitting here while the rest of you play. And I’d really rather be doing anything than talking to you.”

You felt bad the second you said it. Not because she didn’t deserve it, but because this wasn’t you. You were better than that.

“Sorry, I just really would like to be left alone, Frido. Please, just leave me be. Leave me alone.”

Frido’s eyes shot towards the ground as she blinked furiously.

“Okay.”

She turned away and walked back to the field, joining Alexia and Ingrid as they talked about something. Part of you felt bad for rejecting her so quickly, but another part of you felt enraged that she had the nerve to wait this long.

Ingrid looked over at you and then back at Frido curiously.

"What did you want to say to her?" She asked in Norwegian, knowing Frido would understand.

"I don't know… just wanted to check in on how she's doing so far."

Before Ingrid could reply again, Alexia butted in.

"You need to tell her you're sorry as soon as possible."

"I just tried—clearly she isn't too keen on having me around, is she?" Frido snapped back.

The three of them stood in shock for a second, surprised at Frido’s temper. Usually she was level headed and understanding.

Alexia sighed and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Keep trying."

With that she was off to change and shower, giving Ingrid a small smile as she left.

"Frido," Ingrid rubbed her arm to catch her attention. "Why don't we go get a drink tonight and catch up? It's been a long time since we went out, just us."

Frido contemplated it momentarily, not stupid enough to miss that Ingrid clearly wanted to talk about her mood. If she accepted, she was also accepting the fact that she had to open up to her best friend sooner or later.

"All right."

"I don't know what to do," Frido complained, tossing back the last dregs of her beer.

Ingrid sat across from her, her own beer nearly untouched. They were sat out on the balcony of some restaurant nursing the end of the night. They hadn't met, just the two of them, in a while, Frido realized. She wished it was under better circumstances.

"Can I be honest?" Ingrid asked.

Frido nodded. She expected no less from the Norwegian—though she was incredibly kind, it wasn't common for them to sugar coat things.

"You've got to go up to her and apologize. Sincerely. One on one. And you can't be sure she's going to forgive you."

Frido knew Ingrid was talking about apologizing for more than the tackle. She wasn't privy to exactly what happened between the two of you—even in your anger you hadn't told your teammates what was going on—but it was clear something unhealthy had been a staple between the two of you.

"Mapí showed me the video. I didn't want to see it at first, you know how I am with that stuff, so worried always that it'll be one of us. But I finally saw it." Ingrid met her eyes. "The way she went down, the way you hit her, she could've been hurt much worse than she is. And you just got up and left, didn't even check on her."

There was a hint of disdain in Ingrid’s voice that inspired nausea in Frido.

"Had that been any player in a match against Barcelona, imagine how any one of us would've reacted."

Frido knew, if she had seen someone do to you what she had done herself, it would've boiled her blood. To see you lying there unmoving, would've had any player on that field aching, because you were wonderful. You didn't cause fights, you forgave people, you smiled at the opposition after each game, you spent as much time as possible with the fans. And Frido had somehow broken that, gotten you to yell and scream and cry.

"We were together." She whispered, not meeting Ingrid’s eyes. "Well, not really. We were sleeping together, I was at her place most days a week."

The waitress came by, and Frido ordered a glass of wine. She needed a bit more courage to fully get this out in the open.

"I didn't want commitment. I'm not… I didn't know how to be open about that with anyone. I was ashamed of it—she knew. She could sense it." Frido gripped the stem of her wine glass and took a sip. "She hated breaks because she knew I wouldn't talk to her until I was back in Barcelona. Right before I went back to Sweden for camp… we had a huge fight. She said she couldn't take it anymore, that I made her feel like a whore, that I tossed her aside whenever I didn't want her. And I said I didn't care."

Ingrid was silent.

"I didn't expect her to kick me out. Or to refuse to speak to me. I thought we'd fall back together, we always did. But it was different this time. And I hated it. I hated it so much it made my head spin."

Ingrid put a hand over Frido’s where it rested on the table.

"Frido, I love you. You're my best friend, okay?"

Frido nodded, wiping at a tear that was beginning to fall.

"You've got to make this right. Good people do shitty things. Really shitty things sometimes. But sometimes they're also forgiven, in time. And if you want anything with her, even friendship, you've got to apologize and explain yourself."

Frido nodded, meeting Ingrid’s eyes finally.

That night Frido found it difficult to get to sleep.

There wasn't any good reason for it: she had worked hard in practice all day and her body was exhausted. Her bed was comfortable, her apartment quiet. But it was empty. She had realized that she hadn't spent a week straight sleeping in her apartment for months. At least once a week she was with you, always.

But now you weren't speaking to her. You looked at her during practice, then avoided her at all costs. She hadn't even tried texting you, worried she would find her number blocked.

She contemplated calling someone to keep her company, though who would be up at one in the morning?

Eventually she fell asleep after tossing and turning for what felt like hours. She slipped away into unconsciousness, allowing her body to relax into the mattress.

Her mind, however, had different plans.

In her dreams she was in the hospital, unable to get to you. She stood at the door to your room, peering in through a small glass window. The rest of the girls were inside, holding your hand and stroking your skin as you laid in the hospital bed. Your eyes were open but you hardly moved. All she knew with certainty was that you did not want to see her. You wanted her gone. You've ruined my life, she heard you say, though your lips didn't move.

Another time you had simply disappeared. Her fault. You had moved far away, far from Barcelona, and far from her. You were happier somewhere else, with different people.

Once more you hated her. Refused to speak.

When she woke it was to a dark room and a sick feeling in her stomach. She was lonely. She wanted you next to her in bed. She wanted to see you smile and hear you laugh. She wanted to see you play great football and jump into her arms after a goal. And it terrified her to think she wouldn't get any of that again.

How was it that she could've treated you so horribly? It confused her, as if it had been someone else. How had she let her fear control her like that? And most importantly, how had she put your feelings aside so callously?

If she was going to fix anything she would need to apologize. Apologize for it all. Ingrid was right. She hadn't been there for your recovery and now it was all she wanted. The guilt of it all threatened to choke her. She thought of how scared you must've been lying on the field in pain.

Though it was only 4:30 in the morning Frido got out of bed and went to the bathroom to start a scalding hot shower. She needed a plan for how to fix things between you two.

It began that morning. Alexia brought you to practice. You were still living with her for the time being, until you were one hundred percent cleared. You didn't mind it, in fact it was nice to get so much time with Alexia when she was normally busy.

You walked into the locker room, so pleased to be getting into your kit for the first time in a week and a half. Even if it was just for physio work, at least you were in the uniform once more.

Unexpectedly, sitting in your locker was a small stuffed cow with a card and one of your favorite protein bars propped against it. You picked up the plushie, pressing it to your face and enjoying the softness. You were a bit of a child when it came to stuffed animals: you loved them.

The card was written in very familiar handwriting, and your heart jumped into your throat.

This made me think of you. I'd really like to apologize after practice today. Perhaps we can grab a coffee?

- Fridolina

The message was a bit stilted, but you could practically hear Frido’s hesitation on the page. She was nervous.

Just then the blonde came into the locker room to grab something from her bag. She glanced at you quickly, not sure as to your reaction.

"Frido," you called softly. You hadn't decided until that moment to try and forgive her, "I'll see you after practice."

Frido seemed shocked, but quickly her mouth transformed into a wide smile.

Practice seemed to fly by now that you were allowed to do something. The physio workers had you weight training and doing yoga to try and work your muscles that were tight from the pain you had been in. You felt like you were making progress, finally, after more than a week of sitting around.

The car ride with Frido was quiet. You sat in the front seat, fiddling with your fingers and checking your phone as she drove. She had music playing softly, some indie band you didn't know. It was bordering on awkward, though not quite there. You simply didn't know what to say.

Once Frido was pulling off the street to parallel park you spoke.

"I don't think I've been here before."

"I just found it a little while ago when I was wandering around desperately in need of some coffee."

The shop was cute. The outside was painted in chipping yellow paint and the shutters were open. There were a few tables outside, an eclectic set of guests seated at them. There was an old man reading the paper, a student on her laptop, and a mother with her baby. The smell of baked goods wafted from the entrance.

"The muffins are fantastic, if you want one." Frido offered cautiously.

You nodded and gestured for her to enter first.

You decided on a chai and a cinnamon muffin which did look incredible, you had to admit. When you were about to pull out your card to pay you felt a hand on your arm.

"I'll pay, please."

You allowed it, understanding that this was all part of Frido trying to ask for forgiveness. You were willing to see this to the end. It shamed you to admit but you had missed her deeply. It felt good to be near her, to smell her perfume and anticipate her ticks that you knew so well. What made you stay was the possibility that she had missed you too.

Frido carried your drinks and food to the table you picked. It was still warm enough to sit outside even with the sun setting. You tapped your foot and ate your muffin slowly, waiting on her to say something. You didn't want to speak first, but it seemed as though you might have to.

"So…" you started, trailing off to try and prompt Frido.

"I wanted to apologize. Really apologize."

You sat quietly.

"Just for the concussion you gave me?"

Frido hesitated.

"I'm still figuring things out—it's all jumbled up in my head. I was talking to Ingrid the other day and she made me realize I had to set things straight."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"I'm not explaining this well—I wanted to apologize for hurting you. And I want us to be on better terms. I wish we could start over."

"That's it?"

Your chest squeezed painfully. You thought this was the chance you had to deal with the horrible ending to your relationship, but Frido seemed to have no interest in unpacking it. You couldn't help the way your anger flared in response to the hurt you felt.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm not exactly okay, Frido." You started to stand up. "I think it's better if I left. There's no hard feelings over the concussion, I knew it was an accident. Let's just forget about all of it."

Frido stood up quickly, reaching out to grab your elbow.

"Can I drive you back?"

You shook your head.

"I'd really rather walk. It isn't far to Alexia's."

Frido looked for a second like she would push further, but then she deflated and nodded.

"See you at practice, Frido. Thank you for the coffee."

You couldn't help the tears that fell down your face as you walked down the streets of Barcelona. Deciding to forget the whole thing was worse than being angry about it—at least then you got some acknowledgment. Now you felt as though Frido was telling you she just wanted to smooth things over and make nice. She wanted it to be as if this thing between you never existed—all the pain and attraction gone in one fell swoop. You wanted to scream.

How were you meant to play with someone who you had so much conflict with? Surely Alexia or Jona would begin to notice sooner or later. You knew it would affect the team chemistry. The thought just made you more upset.

The tears in your eyes began to fall faster. Not only was your relationship (whatever messy bleeding thing it had been) ruined, but there was a potential for it to impact your job, your team too. What would you do then? If it came down to you or Frido you couldn't imagine Barça picking you.

Alexia noticed you were crying the second she saw you, even though you tried to hide it.

"What's wrong?" She fretted, pulling you close to her. "What happened? I thought you were with Frido this afternoon? Why did she not drop you off?"

You just shook your head, burying it in your captain's sweater. She wrapped her arms around you, quietly shushing you.

"Come, let's sit down."

You felt like a child being led to the couch and leaning in Alexia's embrace. Deep breaths eventually calmed you down so you could speak.

"I'm sorry Ale, I shouldn't be coming here like this."

Alexia shook her head.

"Nonsense. Tell me what happened. Was it Fridolina?"

"It's my own fault, I let it get like this."

"Let what get like this? The accident?"

You shook your head.

"Not the accident. Frido and I have a…we have our difficulties."

Alexia looked at you, surprised.

"Really?"

"I don't think I can tell you…you're her captain I don't want to let it affect the team."

Alexia took your hand.

"I can separate work and personal life. I'm your friend too, and it seems like you need one."

"We were seeing each other, kind of. In secret." You sighed. "We weren't exclusive, she just wanted some fun I think. I didn't."

You felt defeated. There wasn't much more to do. You just had to accept your fate.

Alexia looked at you for a moment in disbelief. She had had no idea.

"You and Frido?"

"It was a mistake."

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #my writing #woso community #woso #barca femini x reader #woso imagine #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfo x reader

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eclecticmiasma · 6 months ago

Note

Hello! Good evening!

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Mithrun and I had a small scenario pop up in my head, and it would be lovely to see your vision on how this would play out, please and thank you 💕:

AFAB!Elf!reader is a member of the canaries, very soft spoken and rather kind. The nicest, most likely. Against her better judgement she’s down bad for the captain and everyone else is like “pls no I’d rather you not”. (She can fix him/jk)

Mithrun realizes she has feelings for him and in a very subtle way treats her a little more gentle than the others. Lets her spoil him a tiny bit more. Listens to her a bit more.

Reader can only hope one day maybe…just maybe…the captain can show a little interest in her too 🥺 and is oblivious that he lets her get away with a little more than others

Just very soft feelings all over

I won't spoil it for those who haven't read the manga, but there are instances where we see Mithrun treat Kabru rather favorably and opening up in great detail about his past. In a side story, we also see that younger Mithrun cared for the other canaries quite a bit. I imagine that even without his desires, Mithrun would appreciate care shown to him in his own Mithrun-y way.

SFW

Mithrun might be adverse to you at first, because when he really looks inward you remind him of his younger self.

However, Mithrun would soon come to see that you don't have the same...pitfalls in your personality that brought him where he is today. He might even come to somewhat admire your ability to stay genuinely kind in a world like theirs.

The other canaries start to notice that you have a much easier time getting their leader to take an ounce of care in his own well-being than any of them ever have. Some of them think it's entertaining while others (Pattadol) think the favoritism is unnacceptable.

Cithis might tease him about it if you aren't around, "We don't want to worry poor [y/n] by getting all dehydrated now, do we captain?"

Even the mention of your name is enough to motivate Mithrun, though you remain completely unaware. In your mind, the captain regards you as nothing more than a subordinate.

You don't notice the way his good eye trains on you as you talk about life before the canaries. You don't realize how fast he falls asleep when you're near. The magnitude of the fact that one night he voluntarily tells you a story about when he and his brother were children slips by you completely.

Pattadol is the only one to ever bring it up to you directly, and you truly have no idea what she's talking about. None of the others help her either, preferring to sit back and watch how her face reddens with frustration.

Mithrun isn't oblivious to the situation, however. He knows that there's something about you that...calms him, at the very least. He's sharp enough to know that you feel the same way about him, perhaps even stronger.

He likes having you around. It's not something he wants when you're gone, but it's something he enjoys while you're there. Because he knows you have some type of feelings for him, he indulges you at every turn. He even lets you wash his back and massage the scarred tissue built at the tips of his ears- though you're terribly relieved he can't see the heat rising on your cheeks as you do so.

One day, long long after the dungeoneering is done, perhaps you might even be able to help Mithrun find his desires, find himself again.

*do not post elsewhere without explicit permission. please consider reblogging, as Tumblr tends to hide adult content!

[RULES] [MASTERLISTS] [AO3] [KO-FI]

#dungeon meshi #mithrun #mithrun of the house of kerensil #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon #x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #mithrun x reader #drabbles #asks #dungeon meshi drabbles #delicious in dungeon x reader #minors dni #anon #fl*ff #afab reader #dungeon meshi headcanons

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jarofstyles · 9 months ago

Note

hiiii could we get a really really meandom!Harry who’s very cocky & likes to manhandle y/n please please please 🙏🏻

Yall love a mean h huh? Here’s a baby blurb!!

Patreon

Warnings- mean don obviously, lots of degradation, gagging, slight dumbification,

——-

“I’ve had enough of looking at you disobey me.” He snarled. Her breath was stolen as his hands gripped her hips, physically tossing her on to her knees, not giving her any time to recover as he tugged her up to where he wanted her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She cried out, spitting hair out of her mouth as she tried to plead her case. “I tried to hold it, I really did. It felt t-too good.” Reaching her orgasm without permission was not something the man took kindly to. Not after he made it explicitly clear that he owned every drop of her pleasure.

“Sorry isn’t fucking good enough, is it?” There was little time to think before his cock impaled her again, sliding all the way inside and stealing her breath. A broken moan left her swollen mouth as he pulled out and slammed back in again, jostling her on the bed. “Didn’t you learn your lesson last time? Can’t believe I have t’keep teaching you how to be good.”

She knew it was pathetic but she loved when he got like this. When he spoke mean to her, his tone low and sharp as his cock fucked into her. Being used like this was the thing she wanted most of all and Harry gave it to her so good, she couldn’t stop coming back. “I-I….” The girl had attempted to say something, but the thrusts had fucked any thought she had right out of her head.

“You what? Fucking whore… god, it’s a good thing your cunt feels this good. I’d have no use for you if it wasn’t.” He could tell she liked it from how wet she god, gushing around his prick and soaking him more than any other woman had. The sloppy sounds of her ruined cunt getting deep fucked were loud and welcomed, next to her little whines each time he thrust all the way in. “Yeah… good little pussy, takes me so well. At least she works properly, unlike that empty little head of yours. Just lay there and let me use you to get off.”

That had her cunt fluttering around his cock again, clueing him in to just how much she liked the degrading. “Pathetic.” Fingers pressed into her mouth, making her moans muffle as she attempted to suck on them. “Need all your holes filled just t’make you happy. Lucky I’m so nice to you and let you be my fucktoy. I have options, y’know sweets? Could get my dick wet whenever I leave the house but…” he felt her moan on his digits as his other hand dipped his thumb into her ass. “None of them let me toss ‘em around quite like you. You know your place as my pretty set of holes, don’t you?”

There was a feeble attempt at a nod but she was hindered by the fingers she had stroking her tongue, eyes tearing up again as he got deep into her. It felt like he was in her stomach, the intrusion on her ass only adding to the full feeling she’d been craving. “Good. I don’t want t’have to replace you, sweetheart. Don’t think anyone else would get this wet from having their sweet cunt bullied by a cock that’s a bit too big for them to take.”

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withleeknow · 4 months ago

Text

wishful thinking. (7.5)

chapter 7.5: limbo

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; minho's pov; non-explicit smut, kissing, grinding, implied unprotected sex; alcohol consumption, non-linear storytelling (jumps around a few random scenes before we get back to the present that picks up from the end of chapter 7), cursing, the final line :-?; not that unedited i am so so sorry lol word count: 5.6k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

Wishing fountains, we pray for change in the dark Moving mountains, we end up right where we start The world’s not falling apart But you and I, baby we are

Wishing Fountains - Bad Suns

“What does it say?” Minho asks.

You sigh, your eyes trailing the words on the small piece of paper in your hands before you shove one half of the fortune cookie in your mouth. It seems dry; you look like you can barely swallow it.

“Bullshit,” you say simply, a little bitter before you hide behind a mask of indifference, turning to him as you ask, “Yours?”

He breaks his own fortune cookie in half, pulling out a similar piece of paper that reads, “‘Jeg elsker deg’ means ‘I love you’ in Norwegian.”

You're both lying on a fluffy rug on the floor of your bedroom, with an empty bottle of rosé sitting somewhere near your head. “That’s... random,” you say, casting your eyes to the ceiling. “But I mean, at least it’s kind of educational. Now you know a phrase in Norwegian.”

“Sure,” Minho laughs, testing out the syllables in his mouth and butchering them in the process. “Who would I even say it to?”

“Impress your future girlfriend with your worldly knowledge. Or say it to Hyunjin, I’m sure he’ll swoon and blush like a schoolgirl.”

“That’s the last thing I want. He’s already clingy enough as it is.”

“Alright. Well, your loss then.”

He only hums in response. “You’re really not gonna tell me what yours is?”

“I told you. It’s bullshit.”

“Wanna tell me why the fortune cookie is evil at least? I’ll fight it for you.”

You roll your eyes, shoving at his shoulder with a playful scoff. “It just got me thinking, that’s all.”

“About what?”

It takes a minute for you to gather your thoughts into one semi-cohesive pile.

“Just… reminds me how I don’t really fit into anyone’s life,” you start, your voice coming out a little small and timid before you seem to let the alcohol give you enough confidence to say what you want. “I don’t feel like I’m worth anyone’s time. Everyone’s going to outgrow me eventually, if they haven’t already. Their lives will only get bigger and bigger, and they’ll have to leave me behind at some point. All that space but none for me.

“I think I’ll be stuck like this forever, in this fucking… limbo. And I know it’s dramatic because we’re still young and we’ve got our whole lives in front of us and whatever else that people say. But it feels like wherever I go and whatever I do, my life will always be this small while you all move on. Chan and Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, Felix, even Hyunjin and Jisung when they’re not too busy being idiots. Everyone’s got everything all planned out, and they have other things to fall back on if those plans don’t work out. If I fall, I think I’ll just keep falling until I hit rock bottom.

“And you… you’re gonna do great things too. You’re gonna live your life and it’s going to be a good one, and you’ll forget about me too. A few years from now, when everyone’s already moved on, I’ll just be a girl that you used to know. I’m just a stop along the way.”

Then you pause, and the laugh you let out afterward is choked up and not at all sincere. You rub your hands down your face, groaning a little when you say, “Ugh, that was depressing. Sorry, it’s the wine. Forget I said anything.”

You have beautiful eyes, that’s what Minho has always thought, the kind that holds all the universe’s sparkles and all its sadness too, a bittersweet balance. The kind that makes one want to stop and admire for a while. He loves when they light up before the joy gradually spreads across your face, like watching the sun peak over the horizon before it colors the sky with ethereal pinks and purples and blues. You’re a wonderful sunrise, his favorite part of every day.

He even loves your faraway gaze when you’re here but you’re elsewhere simultaneously, hiding in your eyes musings that are privy to nobody else. You’d stare into the distance and he’d watch you the whole time, wondering if any of the thoughts that occupy your mind are about him.

Minho has an urge to take you into his arms and hold you tight and tell you that everything’s going to be okay. That no one’s going to forget about you because you’re not someone who can be forgotten so easily, let alone be forgotten by him. That he isn’t going anywhere if it’s not by your side, that he wants to be in your life until you decide you’re sick of him, not the other way around.

He wants to tell you he loves you because that’s the truth. He was gone the minute he saw you at that stupid party years ago when you had walked in shyly with Chan and Jess. You had tried to make yourself smaller in a roomful of strangers, but you’ve always been the only one Minho could find in a crowd.

Years and years from now, when he thinks back to his youth, the highlight reel that will pop up in his mind will be of his idiot friends and the good memories they’ve shared with one another. How they laughed and cried, how they fell and got back up together time and time again.

And at the center of it all will be you. Green grass, blue skies, his golden days and you, the focal point of his youth.

He loves you. Would it help, or would it scare you?

He doesn’t let himself debate that question for long. Regardless of what the answer is, now isn’t the right time. So instead, he says, “For what it’s worth, everyone’s just taking it one day at a time, even if they seem like they have it all planned out. You’re not falling behind. You’re going at your own pace, who cares about other people?”

You turn your head to stare at him, your cheeks flushed with a rosy tint from the wine you had shared and a pensive look on your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but he holds your gaze anyway.

“And I can’t speak for anyone else, but you’ll always have me. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

A quiet moment passes. If Minho focuses hard enough, he thinks he might be able to hear the faint beats of your heart.

His gaze flickers to your lips for barely a second before it returns to your eyes, quick enough for it to escape your notice.

Then, you’re holding yourself up on one elbow and shuffling into his orbit until you’re right by his side. He doesn’t move a single inch; he only watches as you get closer, and closer, and closer until there’s no more space between the two of you. He blinks, and in that split second he misses the way you let your eyes shut as you lean down to press your lips to his.

He’s surprised, but pleasantly so.

You taste like rosé, like something he’s always known that he wants to chase.

It stuns him enough that he forgets to respond, his mind focused solely on the feeling of your soft lips on him, the scent of your jasmine perfume and how you’re so warm pressed against him like this.

Maybe it’s the stillness of his body that shocks you out of it, because you pull away after a few seconds with an instant look of mortification in your eyes, trying to scramble back to your original spot on the rug like you’ve just committed an unspeakable sin. Running away, he thinks, is your first instinct.

But Minho is just a tad quicker than you are. He doesn’t let you stray very far when he props himself up to cup your face with one hand and bring you back to him.

He’s kissing you again and for a brief moment, he feels like he could die.

You don’t break from him this time. Instead, you’re kissing him back just as deeply. You let him lower you back to the floor as he holds himself up above you, his tongue slipping past the seal of your lips while his thumb strokes your cheek softly, keeping you there in his loose hold so you could still run if that’s what you want to do.

But you stay with him, your hands trailing up the expanse of his chest to find purchase on his shoulders, your legs parting so he could perfectly slot himself into the space that you’ve allowed him.

When he rocks his hips into you experimentally, you bite on his bottom lip, a whining sound from your throat comes out muffled against his mouth.

He strays just long enough and far enough so he could look into your eyes, with your pupils blown much darker than they had been at the start of the evening.

He says your name, the gentlest sound in the world, then a question. “What do you want?”

Minho half expects you to overthink your answer and come back to your senses, to choose flight because it would be the easier option.

But you don’t. There’s a dazed look in your eyes as you lock onto him, and there’s something underneath the pool of lust in your gaze that leaves him breathless and wondering.

“You,” you say quietly, “I want you.”

And it’s with this simple answer that you pull him back to you again, not the other way around. You kiss him more fervently than before if that’s even possible. When he slides his arm around your waist, you let him pick you up to cross the few steps it takes to get to your bed, his lips never leaving you even after he has laid you onto the mattress. They follow the path where your jawline leads down to your neck, then where your neck meets your collarbone, and he savors every little whimper that you make for him even though he’s barely touched you yet. There’s hardly any patch of skin that he leaves unkissed, and when he reaches where your shirt begins to hide the rest of you from him, he only looks up at you, quietly asking for more permission.

You don’t give him a verbal answer. You take matters into your own hands, lifting your top over your head and flinging it somewhere on the floor.

Then your bra follows to join your shirt, wherever it may be. Minho assumes they’ve landed on the bottle of rosé, only guessing by the sound of the glass being knocked over and rolling around. He’s not sure but he doesn’t care about it enough to look, not when he’s got you right here under him, so beautiful and so willing that it makes his head spin.

He’s imagined this before, just a few times whenever he's drunk enough to let his mind wander without the guilt that comes with it when he’s sober. He has wondered before what it would feel like to kiss you breathless and have you kiss him back, to touch you in ways that no one else ever has, to taste how sweet you are and feel your warmth. None of it is appropriate, not at all platonic. He’s well aware of it.

It's been years, ever since Minho met you at that party when he was 19 and you had been too awkward to start a conversation. Years of walking with you in the rain after class, sharing umbrellas that are too small to shield the both of you but it’s okay, because he doesn’t mind leaving half of his body exposed to the harsh weather as long as the rain doesn’t get on you. Years of making sure you get home safely after nights out with your friends, years of insisting that he sees you walk inside your building and up to your floor whether it's 11PM or 4:30AM. Years of lingering glances, of pretending he isn’t bothered whenever Felix offers to introduce you to someone, of smiles sent your way that are far too endeared to mean nothing at all.

Years of loving you in silence because he’s your friend first and foremost, and his friendship with you means more to him than the feelings he has for you.

And yet...

He’s here in your bed, watching you with mesmerized eyes as you take off the rest of your clothes before helping him discard his, as you kiss him just as deeply as he’s wanted to kiss you for the longest time, as you keep pulling him into you even when he’s already as close to you as humanly possible. His lips on yours, his heart pressed against the other side of yours. His fingers intertwined with yours when he slips inside of you, and how your hands stay interlocked the entire time you’re wrapped together. You cling to him so tightly, as though it would hurt you if he were to ever let go.

It’s the way you look at him, like he’s the only person that exists in your universe. It’s the broken moans that you give him, the nonsense babbles that make his chest swell with pride at the knowledge that he’s making you feel so good that the only thing you know how to say coherently is his name. It’s the heaven between your thighs, absolutely divine and infinitely better than any fantasy that he could ever let himself indulge in.

Just for tonight, Minho can pretend that you're his, even though he knows that he’s already been yours since the first time you met. He’s been yours for as long as he can remember, even if you don’t know it yet.

Later on, when he’s collapsed next to you on the bed, there’s a safe distance between your tired bodies and a certain tension in the air that’s heavy with the consequences of your actions. When he takes your hand, the one that’s shaking as you grip the sheets between your fingers, it alleviates some of that anxiety.

“The fortune cookie, what did it say?” he asks, like you’re simply continuing the conversation from before.

You let out a nervous chuckle. “Seriously?”

He gives you a lopsided smile, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Seriously.”

You purse your lips as you look at him for another second before you cast your eyes to the ceiling again, like you’d done just an hour ago. “It said ‘You’ll be loved.’”

You are, he thinks to himself. You’re loved.

“Open wide.”

You give him a look, to which he only responds with a shrug and a sly grin.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” you say, but you take the spoonful of chicken soup that he offers you anyway. You can’t focus on the taste but it’s warm and the relief you feel is instant when it soothes your throat.

You’ve practically been on bedrest for the past three days, slowly rotting away in your apartment with a bad strain of the seasonal flu until Minho came over and unleashed his inner mama bear on you. Now here you are, wrapped up like a burrito on the couch (Minho insisted; he wouldn’t have it any other way) while he spoon feeds you homemade chicken soup.

You were stubborn about it at first, as one could probably imagine. When you told the group chat that you wouldn’t make it to movie night at Chan’s place last weekend, you were adamant that you would be able to sleep it off and bounce back in no time, despite Minho offering to make you some food and bring over some meds and cough drops.

The symptoms worsened overnight though, and you developed a fever along with a cough that’s worse than any you’ve ever experienced. When Minho called you to make sure you were still alive, you could barely even speak.

He hates your cavalier attitude when it comes to taking care of yourself. He hates himself even more for believing in your nonchalance and not bulldozing his way over sooner.

“I’m enjoying this because I was right,” he says, feeding you more of the soup. “I told you instant ramyeon wouldn’t cure you.”

He lets his I told you so triumph go easily, even though he suspects that you have much more to bite back at him if you could get through half a sentence without wanting to hack your lungs out. You make a noise, and he isn’t really sure if it’s one of agreement or protest but it’s most likely the latter. He thinks it’s cute that you close your eyes after every spoonful, lazily eating like one of his cats back home whenever they’ve run out of energy. You’re probably tired and can’t wait to get into bed.

When the soup is finished, Minho fetches you your meds and a glass of warm water. He doesn’t know if the scrunched up face you make after every pill is because you hate the bitter taste or if the tablets keep dragging against your already sensitive throat on their way down, but he strokes your hair all the while you wash it down with water, a gentle hand on your head as if to say You’re doing well.

He tucks you in bed not long after, despite your weak protests as he carries you to your bedroom.

“Oh my god,” you had managed to croak out. “I’m not that helpless.”

“I know,” came his response and a teasing smile. “Just let me take care of you for once.”

You’re pliant once you’re laid gently on the mattress though, idly watching Minho as he wraps the duvet around your shoulders and fluffs your pillows just the way you like. This is awfully domestic, he notes, and he can’t help but lean down and press a kiss to your forehead, not when he’s absolutely endeared by the way your tired eyes try to keep themselves open just so you could look at him.

When his lips leave your warm skin, he thinks he might’ve imagined the blush that colors your cheeks.

But he blinks, and you’re still flushed, your lips slightly parted as you stare at him, mild surprise evident in your drowsy gaze.

Something passes over the two of you, a kind of silence that he isn’t accustomed to when he’s with you. It isn’t bad, it’s just… strange.

One beat, then another. “Want me to stay with you?” he asks.

He knows you’d say no, and yet he can’t help the disappointment when you tell him, “You don’t have to. Go home, Min. Thanks for taking care of me today.”

“You sure? I can take the couch. It’s fine.”

“I’m sure. Chan and Jess said they’re coming to check on me in the morning.”

Minho lets out a hum, and purses his lips.

“What?” you ask.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you look like you want to.”

“Just… y’know,” he starts, gauging your reaction all the while, for any signs of physical discomfort or otherwise, “I like you like this. You’re not hiding when you’re like this.”

“You like me frail and on the verge of death?”

He rolls his eyes, pretends to flick at your forehead. “You know what I mean.”

When you giggle, it’s immediately followed by a wince, like the movement is hurting your sensitive throat. “Do I hide when I’m with you?”

“Sometimes.” He moves his hand to caress your face, gentle fingertips tracing the apple of your cheek. Surprisingly, you let him, if only for a little while. “It feels like you’re always ready to leave.”

“Are you worried I’m gonna run away?” you ask, covering your hand over his to move it away, but you still let his touch linger when you only lower his hand to your neck, where he starts twiddling your hair between his fingers. It feels like you want him close, close enough that it matters, close in a way that still lets you have control over how it matters. “I physically can’t. I’m sick.”

“Does that mean you’ll run away when you get better?”

You seem to ponder the question for a moment. You’re holding onto his wrist and Minho is almost certain that you can feel his pulse. He would do so many things for you if only you’d let him.

When you answer him, you keep things light but your tone is soft, gentle in a way that tells him your sentiment means more than the words you cherry pick on the surface.

“No, I have finals in two weeks.”

The first time that Minho gets to wake up next to you, nothing feels real. Not the pleasant scent of your shampoo greeting him the minute he opens his eyes, not your soft breath fanning his bare collarbone where you lay with your head tucked into the crook of his neck, not even the feeling of you in his arms, safe and warm, as though this is where you’re meant to be. None of it seems like anything other than a dream.

When memories of the previous night come rushing to the surface, it also brings back the annoyance he felt watching Yeonjun openly flirt with you at the party, and the bitter feeling that accompanied the reminder that Minho couldn’t even really do anything about it but stand idly by.

But you stir in his arms, and all of the annoyance and bitterness goes away. Because you’re here with him and not anybody else. There’s a certain ego boost knowing that he’s the one you kiss, the only one you allow in your most personal space. To know you is a privilege, and it’s one that you grant no one else but him.

Last night, something happened. Something changed, he felt it when you were the one who asked him to stay. You let him put his shirt on you, let him hold you as you slept, even welcomed his embrace and snuggled further into his body in a way that you’ve never done before.

How you kissed him just hours prior, how you looked at him… God, he thinks he could just spill all of his secrets if you did it again.

But when you open your eyes, Minho is already pretending to be asleep again. How would you react? He’s curious to know. Would you scramble away the second the realization kicks in that you let him break your rule? Would you leave his side and act all nonchalant about it when you inevitably have to face each other later? He’s willing to bet that you would.

But you surprise him again. He feels you watching him for a moment, then your touch ghosts upon his features. It almost makes him falter in his act, your gentle fingers tracing his temple, his cheekbones, the slope of his nose down to his lips. There’s a sigh that you exhale, and he misses your touch the very second it leaves his skin. He itches to bring you closer to him again.

So that’s what he does. Minho keeps the facade going, pretending like he’s now just waking up with his limbs stretching out. You stiffen when he hugs you tighter, but you soon relax after he starts stroking your hair.

Nothing has changed for him, but can you say the same?

“Dude!”

Minho flinches into action when a voice calls his name right by the car window, loud enough to startle him even through the thick layer of glass. When he turns his head, he finds Changbin’s face all pressed up against the window, struggling to hold three bags full of supplies that are threatening to spill out. “Help me with these!” his friend says.

It’s the week of Jisung, Felix and Seungmin’s birthdays; you lot tends to go all out for the quadruple birthday bash every year (Chan’s birthday is only 11 days later after all). Seungmin’s family has a lakeside cabin a couple hours from the city, that’s where everyone goes to unwind for a long weekend with plenty of food and even more drinks. This year, it’s no different.

Minho and Changbin are on drinks duty, tasked with picking up all of the alcohol and refreshments for the weekend ahead. He doesn’t really know what the rest are doing, just that you and Jeongin are babysitting Hyunjin to make sure the latter doesn’t deviate from the proposed budget and go way overboard when getting snacks and decorations. You sent Minho a text a while ago, a video of you facepalming and rolling your eyes before you flip the camera over to show Hyunjin and Jeongin bickering like children over a mega pack of chips.

Once everything is in the car – cases of beer safely loaded into the trunk, bottles of water and soft drinks set in their designated plastic bags in the backseat, Changbin comments from the driver’s seat, “You looked weird. You were smiling.”

Minho only stares at him for a moment, a neutral expression on his face as he blinks those typical Minho blinks, before he turns his head to the other side to lean against the window.

He was thinking about the first time your tradition started, the first year Jess had to drag you on the trip. She used to do it often; you were shy in the beginning.

He’s got a favorite memory of you, and it wasn’t you and him sitting together on the bank of the river during the sunset, while the others were in the water, splashing around and having the time of your lives (you two were the only ones who couldn’t swim, but it was okay, you didn’t feel like you missed out on anything because at least you had each other).

His favorite memory of you wasn’t running into you in the middle of the night when he went into the kitchen for some water and you were out by yourself on the adjacent balcony, sitting with your chin resting on your folded knees and the crescent moon for company. He stayed there for a moment, dazed, wondering if he was still dreaming or if it was just you. When Minho finally made his presence known, you told him you couldn’t sleep and he suggested that you break into Hyunjin’s secret ramyeon stash, because going to bed with a full stomach always made him feel better whenever he was restless. 1:58AM, you ended up almost burning your hand on the stove, too busy trying to keep your giggles down when he made a stupid joke.

Minho’s favorite memory wasn’t of you falling asleep on his shoulder on the drive back either, with you squished in the backseat between him and Felix, and your light snores reminded him of Soonie whenever the cat would doze off on his chest. It wasn’t any of these moments, even though he thinks he might’ve loved you in every instance.

His favorite memory of you was the evening before that trip had to come to an end, the last night you all spent together before you had to leave your safe little bubble. It was after dinner and some drinks, everyone was buzzed and the air was crisp, chilly every now and then. When you were gathered on the dock overlooking the lake, each holding a sparkler that Jisung had prepared, you were laughing. Everyone else was laughing too, but yours was the only sound Minho could focus on.

“Be quiet. I’m gonna take a nap,” he tells Changbin, ignoring the comment entirely as he closes his eyes. “Wake me when we get to Chan’s.”

The lights, and your friends, and the moon hanging high up in the sky like a guardian angel back then.

You were watching how it all reflected so beautifully in the rippling waters below. He was watching you.

“You really don’t see it, do you?”

His question hangs in the awful silence as you stare at him. Minho can see your nails digging into your palms where your fists are clenched, your glassy eyes and the frown between your brows, like you’re trying your hardest to hold back tears. Why else would you be so upset?

He’s known about it for a while, or at the very least, he’s had an inkling of how you feel about him. He knows he isn’t in over his head when he says there’s a certain glow that radiates from within you when you’re together, a side of you that’s tender and at peace, one that he’s never seen you show anyone else. The way you look at him, it’s the same way that he looks at you even if you don’t realize it yet, or maybe you just don’t want to admit it out loud.

It hasn’t been one sided for at least some time now, he knows it.

But it’s frustrating to watch you try so hard to fight it. He’s the only one holding on, and you’ve been willing to let go at every turn.

“See what?” you challenge.

This isn’t how he planned to ever say these words, but the moment is here whether he likes it or not. It’s staring at you both in the face even if you are doing your best to hide from it.

Minho holds your gaze for a few seconds before he steps toward you again. This time, you stand your ground.

“You asked me if things changed for me and I said no. That was the truth, I never lied to you. We’re friends but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen you as something more from the beginning.”

He pauses there, watches your eyes and how you take it in. They soften a little, filling up some more as you process his words. There’s surprise in the look that you wear, sure. A little confusion, yes. But most of all, you just look sad. When you call out his name, he can tell by your tone that it’s a warning, that you’re about to run away for real this time if he presses on, and yet he can’t stop until he says his piece.

“If you want me to spell it out for you, I’ve had feelings for you since we first met. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t remember what it feels like not to love you, and it drives me crazy that you don’t see any of it. The thing that makes me even crazier, do you know what it is? I think you feel something for me too, but you won’t admit it to yourself and you always resort to shutting down instead of facing your feelings. How much longer are you going to run away from me?”

When the first tear unintentionally spills over from the corner of your eye, Minho knows he’s struck a nerve. He wants to reach out and wipe away the tiny stream that rolls down your face but you beat him to it, wiping at your cheek in angry motions.

“You’re wrong.” Your voice is tight when you tell him, “I don’t have feelings for you.” It’s the only thing that you address.

Sometimes, he searches for your answer at the bottom of a glass, or on the other end of looks that seem to linger just a beat too long. But as he’s standing here, right now, he finds it in your hesitation to speak, in the lie you give him when you finally do.

It’s the answer he’s always wanted and yet, the knowledge brings him no satisfaction at all. It only lodges a lump in his throat, an overwhelming sense of dejection when he sees how hard you’re trying to fight this.

“I know you,” he sighs after a moment, a little defeated. “I know when you’re lying.”

“Maybe you don’t know me that well after all.”

You’re stubborn. You’ve always been stubborn.

Minho takes another step forward. It feels like it’s a step closer to the end as you both know it, because how else is your relationship going to come back from this? He sees the slight shake in your shoulders that you try to suppress, but he’ll always be the one to notice.

“Tell me you don’t love me,” he says quietly, his final resort. A challenge but it sounds an awful lot like a plea. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible that things can take a turn for the worse in just two weeks’ time. The last time you both were here, you’d kissed his endeared smile and held him so impossibly close to you. Now, everything is falling apart, the seams coming undone one by one. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”

Minho meant what he said, about how loving you drives him crazy sometimes. Even when you’re breaking his heart, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. A noticeable sting settles in between the cracks of his ribcage at the sight of your quivering bottom lip, your balled up fists and his own reflection in your glassy eyes.

“Do you want me to say it so badly?” you ask, and he can only stare at you when your voice comes out harsher than it was before, though it cracks toward the end as you try to keep up with the facade. “Fine, I’ll say it.”

It’s not what he asked, but it’s confirmation nonetheless. It’s acceptance but not how he wants it to be. Acceptance that you do love him, and yet, you say it in a way that he’s never expected to hear from you.

“I don’t want to love you.”

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inkspiredwriting · 2 months ago

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Hickey Havoc

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

The Hargreeves mansion was unusually quiet on this crisp morning. The siblings, each engrossed in their own activities, had gathered for breakfast in the large, sunlit kitchen. Luther was eating, Allison was flipping through her phone, Klaus was applying nail polish, Viktor was reading a newspaper, Ben was sipping coffee, and Diego was sharpening his knives.

Five strode into the kitchen, his usually impeccable suit slightly askew, and his collar turned up. He looked around suspiciously, as if expecting an ambush.

"Morning," he muttered, heading straight for the coffee pot.

Klaus, paused mid-brush stroke. "Morning, Five," he said, his tone overly innocent. "Have a good night?"

Five gave him a sidelong glance. "What’s it to you?"

"Oh, nothing," Klaus replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Just curious if you’ve… been anywhere interesting."

Diego, sensing something, glanced up. "Yeah, Five. You seem… different today."

"Different?" Five asked, trying to keep his tone nonchalant as he poured his coffee.

"Yeah," Diego said, his eyes narrowing. "Like maybe you’ve been… marked."

Five stiffened, almost spilling his coffee. "What are you talking about?"

Klaus leaned in closer, pointing at Five’s neck. "I think what Diego means is… did you get attacked by a vampire last night?"

Five’s hand shot up to his collar, trying to cover the hickey he’d been desperately trying to hide. "It’s nothing. Just… a bruise."

Luther raised an eyebrow, finally catching on. "A bruise? Looks more like someone’s been… having fun."

"Very funny," Five grumbled, but his cheeks tinged pink.

Allison, now fully interested, leaned over to get a better look. "Oh my God, is that really a hickey?"

Viktor, setting the newspaper down, tried to hide his grin. "Never thought I’d see the day."

Ben chuckled into his coffee. "Looks like Five’s been busy."

Before Five could come up with a retort, Y/n, Klaus's best friend, and now Five's girlfriend, walked into the kitchen, still half-asleep and wearing one of Five’s shirts. She yawned, stretching, and then froze as she realized the entire family was staring at her.

"What’s going on?" Y/n asked, looking around at the faces of Five’s siblings.

"Oh, nothing," Klaus said, with exaggerated casualness. "Just admiring Five’s new… accessory."

Y/n’s eyes widened as she realized they were talking about the hickey. "Oh no," she muttered, touching her neck where a similar mark was visible.

"Matching hickeys!" Diego exclaimed, laughing. "This is too good."

"And you," Allison said, pointing to Y/n. "You’re the culprit!"

Y/n turned a bright shade of red, tugging at the collar of Five’s shirt. "It’s… not what it looks like."

"Right," Luther said, smirking. "Because it doesn’t look like you and Five had a wild night or anything."

"Honestly," Ben said, laughing. "That's hilarious."

"There are no details," Five snapped, though he couldn’t hide his smile. "It’s none of your business."

"Oh, but it is," Klaus said, leaning back with a triumphant grin. "When you sneak around like that, it becomes very much our business."

"Sneak around?" Five asked, raising an eyebrow. "We weren’t sneaking around. We were—"

"Having a stormy night?" Viktor suggested, his eyes twinkling.

Y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. "You guys are impossible."

After the morning’s teasing, Five and Y/n retreated to the living room to escape the relentless jokes from Five's siblings. They sat on the couch, trying to find some peace.

"I can’t believe they noticed," Y/n said, shaking her head. "How do they even notice stuff like that?"

"They’re nosy," Five replied, rubbing his temples. "And they love having something to tease me about."

"Well, it’s not like we were hiding anything," Y/n said, though she was blushing.

"I didn’t think they’d be this relentless," Five admitted. "But then again, they’re the Hargreeves."

Y/n laughed, leaning against him. "At least we gave them something to talk about."

"Yeah," Five said, wrapping an arm around her. "But maybe next time we should be a bit more careful."

"Or not," Y/n said, grinning up at him. "Let them have their fun."

Five sighed, but he couldn’t help but smile. "You’re right. It’s just a hickey. Not the end of the world."

Y/n kissed his cheek. "Exactly. And hey, at least now they know we’re together."

"True," Five said, chuckling. "Though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing."

"Definitely a good thing," Y/n said, snuggling closer. "Let them tease. We know what we have."

That evening, the siblings gathered for dinner, still buzzing about the morning’s discovery. Five and Y/n walked in together, holding hands, and the teasing began anew.

"Look who decided to join us," Diego said, smirking. "The lovebirds."

"Did you have a nice nap?" Klaus asked, winking. "Or were you… otherwise occupied?"

"Guys," Five said, rolling his eyes. "Can we just eat dinner without any comments about our… activities?"

"No promises," Allison said, smiling. "But we’ll try."

"That’s all we ask," Y/n said, squeezing Five’s hand under the table.

As dinner progressed, the teasing subsided, but not without a few more jabs about their "secret" relationship. In the end, Five and Y/n laughed along with them, realizing that no matter how much they were teased, they wouldn’t trade this family—or each other—for anything.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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yuellii · 1 year ago

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catch me if you can, salvatore

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 there are quite obvious red flags in your relationship, and they’re all from him

feat. neuvillette, zhongli, pierro ( separately )

note. reader’s gender unspecified, the old men of genshin ( i’m so sorry ), established toxic marriages given the prompt, possible fontaine lore inconsistencies

> [part one] . part two

NEUVILLETTE. always too serious

Your bedroom was a space sadly quieter than even the outdoors. For at least on your doorstep, the sounds of crickets were heard, the mechanical noises of distant construction were there—but here, there was not even a sound.

Perhaps you were too sensitive. But you also thought a spouse had every right to feel love and respect from their husband, and you felt none of that. The suffocation of this Fontaine air only brought up an even more suffocating man, and you fear you may lose your breath before even coming to your senses.

“You’re up late.” He stood right behind you at the opening of the balcony. Of course, you didn’t hear him coming from inside that silent fortress of a household. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

His words—you wish he didn’t say them, for they’ll unwillingly fill your thoughts with the idea that he cares. But sometimes ( or perhaps most ), you were too foolish to counteract that.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply said, continuing to stare out into the blue aura of the nation. A technicolor world made of music and machine—but unfortunately, your husband was only like a machine. “Was so caught up awake, completely immersed by your current court performance,” you yawned sarcastically.

He grumbled, “It’s a court hearing, not a silly performance.” Then, he joined you at the bar of the balcony, perhaps far too distanced from you for your liking. He was never next to you; always paces away just light tonight. “And I’ve been telling you, I can sign you up as a spectator or part of the jury.”

You almost snarled after he failed to pick up your sarcasm. “I’d rather die before you did that,” you scoffed. “Me? Sitting in that stuffy courthouse whilst you talk for hours? If it were my way, Her Grace would’ve had her way a long time ago. Perhaps you can learn from her, sometime. It can loosen you up for once.” He turned to glare at you.

“Oh, spare me the levity.” From the way he suddenly straightened his back, presenting himself a towering height over you, you knew you were about to be scolded. “If you cannot take the Court of Fontaine for what it is instead of a laughing stock, than perhaps you should be the next one on a treason hearing for exile.”

Your stomach dropped. As inconceivable as it sounded, you wouldn’t put it past him with how booming his tone was. And… coming from your own husband… “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, good Monsieur.” To very man that wore your wedding band. “But spare me one truth…”

“Right now, are you my husband, or are you the Chief Justice?”

You immediately regretted the question once his eyes looked ready to kill.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

ZHONGLI. overprotective

Sunrise, Midday, Sunset, Midnight.

You could only see the light from the cold glass of your window, or the freshest air from your porch. Sometimes the fresh sea breeze of the harbor, but that was more of a rarity.

You loved Liyue Harbor; so did your husband. Living in Jueyun Karst was safe, sure, but it was boring. And maybe, there was a time that you loved the harbor so much during Lantern Rite—a time where lanterns graced the sky and fireworks were heard all the way from your small home in Minlin. So much, in fact, you almost felt like Rapunzel in those fairytale books when she leaped out of the comforts of her tower to chase the lights.

And even moreso like Rapunzel when Zhongli saw you at the harbor with a look of horror on his face, not caring of the genuine smile you carried before dragging you away by the wrist. Perhaps it was then that you felt more like his scolded child than his ‘beloved’ spouse.

Could he not see the light in your eyes as you pranced around the harbor? Could he not understand how boring it was to be cooped up in the mountains for your ‘safety’? It sucked, it really did. And it sucked even more once you tasted freedom at the harbor, once you met people that would never shackle down your life to never experience the many joys that Liyue had to offer.

“Am I your partner, or your controlled child?!” you seethed once he dragged you back inside the house.

“I am simply bringing you back after you failed to listen to me,” Zhongli calmly stated. Calm, he was also so calm, emotions be damned. “I told you not to go to the harbor, especially on your own. Have I told you what happened before through the tale of Osial?”

You coughed out in exasperation. “You’re acting like this during a festival?” There was a clear betrayal in your voice—it was truly something he had been hiding from you all this time. “You’re just going to let me be locked up in here, because you think a festival is unsafe?”

“It’s for your protection.”

“‘Protection’, give me a break, Zhongli.” You were near desperate to go back, like once you got an inch of freedom, you suddenly needed it all—but perhaps he only saw you like a partner who needs to be more controlled. “I married you for all your adventurous tales,” you reasoned. “You sounded much more excitingly interesting than you actually are, I fear.”

He continued to stare at you, face hardening into something of a glare like a parent disciplining a child. You hated it. You hated this, you hated him. And as he walked back out with the door locked by some force, you could only wonder how you married a man so cruel.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

PIERRO. a master manipulator

“You know I love you.”

The large pads of his fingers massaged coarsely through your hair at the very top of your head, brushing the your scalp almost delicately like a doll.

“Right?”

It felt almost like Hell itself to feel flutters in your stomach from the way the deep mess of his voice resounded in your ears. It was akin to signing a contract with the devil, like this feeling of infatuation was a demon’s sickly trick. “I do.”

He hummed in contentment. Not like you pleased him with your answer, but like you answered him correctly, as if this some sort of test where there was only one right answer.

He had you seated down on his lap, and it still made you feel like a doll. But there was an uncertainty in it—one that made you question if you should be feeling used and disgusted, or in love with being pampered by your husband like this.

You married a leading man of the most dangerous elites. Perhaps the fluttering feelings pulling at your heart were more of a warning sign than something good, but you couldn’t help it when he made you feel so special. Special words, special treatment—so painfully addicting and so obvious to win your favor for your hand in marriage.

“When the time comes,” he whispered once more, as if speaking the holy words only pure lovers could dare to hear, “would you die for me?”

You should’ve know this was coming, truly. It should’ve been clear the moment he courted you, and painfully obvious once he wanted to wed you. A puppet he could control at his will, someone who looked so innocent compared to the dangerous looks of the Fatui—a person easily stricken by love and compliments, easily you.

But he captured your heart in a way that was devouring, like your love was swallowed into a black hold the moment you showed any weakness. He trapped you in a web you could not escape once pulled in, and you feared you were truly doomed from the start. But that was how the leader of the Harbingers worked; and that was how you gave up your life.

“Yes, I would.”

#zhongli x reader #neuvillette x reader #pierro x reader #harbingers x reader #genshin men x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader

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de4dlyniightshade · 1 year ago

Note

I’d really just like to request your most feral Spencer Reid headcanons. SFW, NSFW, raunchy, tame - whatever. Just your like “I will fight anyone who disagrees, they are fact” type headcanons.

(Because I reread all your headcanons and love every single one)

I BEEN WAITING ON SOMEONE ASKING THIS! i've also just been meaning to make a hc post.

i was gonna split them into nsfw and sfw but they just ended up all mixed together 0-0

submissive and breedable spencer truther til i fucking die i'll get him pregnant don't play with me.

loves messy kisses like spit running down his chin, tongues down each others throat, desperately gripping at each other type of kisses.

maybe just me projecting and taking what mgg said as gospel truth but i fully believe that spencer loves a curvy woman, not even just for sexual reasons he also loves to rest his head on a nice big pair of boobs or thighs.

speaking of, boob guy! shamefully, but still a boob guy! adores groping your boobs whenever he can and would have your boob in his mouth 24/7 if he could, has literally fallen asleep with his head under your shirt and your nipple in his mouth.

munch! like the biggest munch ever, loves nothing more than coming home from a long day and burying his face between your thighs or having you ride his face.

knows full well that toys are his teammate and not his competitors and has no insecurities about you using toys on yourself or owning any.

does not care how well groomed you are, if you asked him what he preferred he'd be like??? it's literally none of my business???

needs lots of reassurance during sex, he just likes to know that he's doing good and making you feel good throughout the whole thing.

doesn't like talking about his sex life, especially with derek, no matter how hard he pressed and pries spencer wont let anything but the bare minimum out.

i imagine he's more drawn to a commanding woman, someone who will take the lead and teach him because of his inexperience and finds that he actually loves being dominated and hardly has any desire to dominate you.

really vocal! even though i've already said it like twice he just is, i can feel it in my bones, he's just such a whiny little baby and can't help but moan loudly any time you're touching him.

is completely against the idea of road head until you do it while you're on a long drive and it both changes his life and almost ends it bcs he swerved into the other lane which was luckily empty.

still gets shy when you kiss him in front even the team even years down the line.

learns to cook so he can make you breakfast whenever you're staying at his apartment.

on the same lines, lovesss morning sex, just that feeling of not wanting to get out your warm bed into the cold air, savouring the warmth in the best way possible.

had no idea what queefing was real until it happened and he was like genuinely so fascinated rather than disgusted.

i feel like spencer would own a bird for sure, not just bcs of gideon but he did help him realise how cool birds are which made him get one, probably a cockatiel or parrotlet with some silly name like dave.

all bark, no bite. likes to act a big game in front of others but the second you're alone he's begging and calling you mommy.

loves nothing more than waking up before you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before carefully and quietly getting out of bed to make you breakfast with the intention of bringing it to you but when you wake up before him and sneak up behind him to wrap your arms around his waist he can't help but melt.

very open to experimenting further down the line, anything you want to try he'll try at least once, except for blindfolds on himself, would be completely open to blindfolding you though.

loves public touching, not outright sex but he'd love when you subtly brush your hand over his crotch or take a handful of his ass in a public place.

teaches you how to knit and cries when you actually make him something like a sweater or even just a hat bcs he realises that's why you wanted to learn in the first place.

can't ride a bike.(this is definitely me projecting bcs i can't but i just feel like he can't okay)

lana enjoyer!!! especially if you are, he just wants to understand all the things you love and if you love lana so does he, he'd love to hear you ramble about your favourite songs and would take note of them and listen to them asap and tell you he loves them even if he didn't like some that much bcs he loves how happy it makes you.

wouldn't want to introduce you to his mother too soon but if you ended up meeting her by chance he'd be sweating buckets in case you didn't get along but you two just bond over your adoration for him and he's just so happy about it.

probably took a while to warm up to physical touch in the beginning bcs of his germophobia but when he finally does he regrets not doing it sooner.

washes his hands every single time before touching you sexually, not even for his benefit, he just wants to be as safe as possible with you.

loves elvis and almost proposes on the spot when you offer to dance with him to can't help falling in love, secretly sheds a few tears while you waltz around his apartment in your pyjamas.

okay i've definitely left stuff out that i've thought of but this is long asf so i'll leave it there😭

#💌 headcanon segment!!!∩^ω^∩#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #mgg #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic

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jjkamochoso · 5 months ago

Text

You Look Good in Green

Fluff

Gen Narumi x gn!reader

Request from Wattpad: Gen sees you speaking with Soshiro Hoshina and becomes jealous!

Warnings: none

It was always an interesting time when Third Division visited the Ariake base. The rivalries between members led to lots of banter and a renewed sense of pride for being in the First Division; it was like you all got even closer in the presence of your peers-turned-competitors. Nothing was more entertaining, though, than the roast sessions—er, conversations—between Third Division’s Soshiro Hoshina and your very own Gen Narumi.

“I don’t remember inviting a beady eyed brat onto my base,” snarked Gen upon seeing Soshiro, who was smirking as he approached your captain.

“Oh? Well, it’s a good thing you’re not in charge then,” Soshiro replied coolly. Gen was practically growling at the man, his nemesis never failing to push his buttons.

“Nice to see you again, Vice Captain,” you greeted, trying to maintain the peace and take the heat off Gen for a little bit.

“Now that’s a face I love seeing! How are you holding up over here, L/n? Gettin’ tired of being under the command of this dummy yet?”

Soshiro burst out in laughter at his own joke, holding his stomach and wiping the tears that formed in the corner of his eyes. Gen’s eye started twitching rapidly and you knew it was time to wrap this up before things got too out of control.

“May I show you the way to the conference room, Hoshina?”

“First class treatment from First Division? Never thought I’d see the day. See ya later, Narumi!”

Soshiro waved, grinning widely as you led him away from an annoyed Gen. The captain wasn’t too keen on you spending alone time with the unwelcome visitor, not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t want his partner to go through the horror of having to talk to Hoshina. Gen moped all the way back to his room, hoping to find comfort in a video game or two… or three. He was looking forward to spending a slow morning with you by his side, but now that you were preoccupied elsewhere, he was left to his own devices (literally). As he turned on his BS5, he heard his phone ding with new text messages.

Y/n: somehow got wrapped up in this meeting🙃🔫 won’t be out of here for awhile

Y/n: don’t have too much fun without me🥺🫶

Gen: good luck dealing with the bowl cut baby🥣

You sent a laughing emoji and a thumbs up and Gen knew you were busy at that point so he threw himself into the virtual world in front of him, eager to occupy his mind for the time being. Even while on a winning streak that would normally make him ecstatic, he couldn’t help but fret about how friendly Hoshina was to you. You two were supposed to be mortal enemies, the rivalry between First and Third Divisions running deep, yet you got along quite well. It was enough to make Gen sick to his stomach witnessing you greet Hoshina with kindness and a friendly smile. Your smiles were supposed to be reserved for him and him only, not some cocky Third Division jerk.

Am I jealous?

He snorted.

No way, that would be beyond lame. I just don’t like seeing them together at all. I’m looking out for y/n’s sanity, that’s it. I’m totally chill.

That’s what he convinced himself, at least, but the controller being clutched within his white knuckled grasp begged to differ.

After a few hours, many video games won and lost, and copious amounts of retail therapy at Yamazon.com, Gen was finally rewarded with another message from his beloved partner.

Y/n: survived the meeting. total yapathon 🥱

Y/n: come meet me for lunch?😚🙏

Gen had never gotten up so fast in his life. He threw on whatever pair of shoes were closest to his door as he raced down the halls, excited to rescue you from the snooze fest you had been subjected to the entire morning. As he turned the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. There you were, standing in the doorway of the dining hall looking perfect as ever, but something was terribly wrong: Hoshina was there with you. Gen watched with his mouth agape as you laughed at something the vice captain said, your head thrown back in delight. If that wasn’t bad enough, Hoshina’s hand landed on your shoulder, an action much too intimate for Gen’s liking. His mouth snapped shut in an instant, his teeth clenched so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if a few cracked.

Soshiro Hoshina had made a grave mistake.

Blood boiling, Gen marched over to you, his feet smacking the floor and garnering your attention.

“Sorry I took so long,” you told your peeved boyfriend as he came into earshot, “we got stuck in the meeting. It was beyond boring.”

“Now that I’m here, you won’t have to worry about being bored any longer.”

Gen stood close behind you, a menacing aura emanating from him as he stared down Soshiro, who had calmly dropped his hand from your shoulder.

“Don’t worry Narumi, I kept them entertained the whole time,” the violet haired man teased, and you never knew Gen could feel so tense and bloodthirsty off the battlefield.

“That doesn’t surprise me, considering they love clowns,” he replied, his voice cracking with anger.

“Is that right?” Soshiro asked cheekily, his fangs peeking out. “No wonder you two are dating.”

That was your cue.

“Great talk, Hoshina, thanks for keeping me company. Gen and I are going to eat. I trust that you can find your way out of here?” you asked, softly placing your fingers around Gen’s wrist to stop him from lunging at the cackling vice captain.

“I can. Catch up with you kids later!”

Soshiro walked away, leaving you to deal with a very grumpy Gen.

“Kids? Aren’t we all around the same age?”

You were trying to lighten the mood but Gen didn’t answer you. He barely gave you a second glance as you filled your trays with food and you were starting to worry about what had gotten into him.

“Talk to me, Narumi. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe Hoshina was right in calling us kids if you’re gonna act childish.”

“‘M not childish,” he grumbled, pushing food around his plate.

“Really? Because it looks like you’re pouting right now.”

“According to you, I’m always pouting.”

“And you’re always childish.”

He rolled his eyes but sighed in resignation. “Okay, you got me there.”

You smiled, nudging him with the blunt end of your chopstick. “Spill. I wanna know what’s going on in that handsome head of yours.”

He sighed again. “It’s stupid. Like, really dumb.”

“So, the usual?” you teased, earning a glare from across the table.

“I didn’t like Hoshina talking with you like that.”

You tilted your head. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, like… like he’s your friend or something! Or something more,” he added quietly. What he was feeling, but wouldn’t admit on his own, immediately dawned on you.

“Are you jealous, First Division Captain Gen Narumi?”

“Don’t say that so loud!” he yelled, looking around furiously. “You’re gonna ruin my cool guy reputation!”

“Sure,” you nodded, holding back a giggle. “I take that as a yes, then?”

Gen wouldn’t meet your eyes, staring at his plate again. It was quite endearing seeing him openly care so much about you and you couldn’t deny it felt kind of good having the affirmation of knowing he didn’t want to lose you to another man. However, you hated seeing him sad and stressed out for no reason.

“Gen, baby, look at me.” You took one of his hands in yours as he raised his head, your other hand carding through his floppy bangs and brushing them away from his eyes so he could see how serious you were being. “There’s no need for you to be jealous. You’re the only man I want, there’s no one else for me. You’re it, I promise you that.”

“I hated the way he made you laugh,” he confessed. “That’s my job.”

“Yeah he’s funny, but more in the “coworker-keeps-your-mind-off-the-lame-meeting” sort of way. You’re much funnier.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

You raised his hand to your lips, brushing them across his knuckles as you gave them little kisses. “I could never lie to a pretty face like yours.”

“Ugh, you’re gross,” he complained, turning his head from your view, but you could tell he took your words to heart with the shy smile and light blush on his face he was trying to hide.

“Eat up,” you told him, getting back to munching happily on your meal, “you gotta be energized to be a worthy opponent for me to take on in whatever video game we’re playing for the foreseeable future.”

Gen broke out into a mischievous grin. “You have it all wrong. I’m gonna kick your ass!”

You watched him shovel food into his mouth at an alarming rate as he filled you in on the progress he had made in his earlier gaming session. He then told you about the ridiculous amounts of online purchases that were making your own credit card weep from your pocket.

“I even bought a dartboard,” he said, his eyes gleaming with joy. “I can’t wait to put a picture of Hoshina’s stupid face on it.”

Yep; Gen Narumi was all yours.

#gen narumi x reader fluff #gen narumi x reader #gen narumi fluff #gen narumi x you #gen narumi x y/n #gen narumi #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8

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ughdontbeboring · 7 months ago

Text

Wasted Days

Feyd Rautha x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)

Feyd’s mood is easily soured by what he calls “wasted days”.

warnings: Feyd-let’s be honest the man is a menace. Smut and murder 🫠

note: I really wanna thank all y'all babes on the love my first Feyd story got. It reached over 500 notes in just a couple weeks and thats HUGE for me. So y’all are the best! Hopefully y’all enjoy this just as much. It’s not the 2 Feyd stories I said I’d put out but the one y’all voted on will be done before the weekend is over! I don’t own dune or any characters. I couldn’t give a fuck less about typos or misspelling sorry not sorry y’all lol

If yall like it, love it or fucks with it please share and comment! I love talking to y’all about our mans.

I give no permission for my work to be used anywhere.

You watch the table of the formal dinning room shake beneath both your palms. The rare jewels that adorned your hands and writs glistened under the artificial light, gifts of your adoring husband. All the expensive glasses and dinnerware shake and rattle with each thrust into your wet cunt.

The baron had just abruptly left the table to talk with Rabban who had busted in on the dinner the three of you were having with urgency, some business with Arrakis.

You couldn’t care less about Rabban’s sudden appearance on his home planet, your husband had seemed to be in a mood all day. Frustrated with something he had yet to reveal to you, though you had a sneaking suspicion the whole day what had soured his mood so noticeably. He’d been so busy lately with everything while the Baron’s focus was on Arrakis and cleaning up behind Rabban.

He didn’t have to stare at you the way he did during dinner for you to know he was in a mood, he had fled your room early after kissing you while you slept. 5 servants dead simply because of your husbands mood. You’d talk to him later about it and surely scold him when you were thinking clearly.

Right now your only focus was your current situation and how your screams of pleasure would surly rival any whore house.

The large doors to the dinning hall were hardly closed when he had you trapped within his warm embrace. Your back to his chest as he nosed at your neck, licking and biting. Groaning how displeased he was that he hardly had time with you today. He had no time at all today to sink his hard cock into his wife’s tight little cunt.

He declared how any day he didn’t fuck his wife full of his cum at least once was a day wasted.

A yell was ripped from your throat as he stepped closer, his knees slightly bent as he thrusted up into you harder, a tight hold on the root of your hair that had been braided. The table shook violently. The loud clatter starting to drown out the sound of your slick cunt and slapping skin.

“Oh fuck!” You yelled out, no longer concerned the Baron or Rabban may possibly come back with how good your husband was making you feel. He was so deep, you were sure you’d start to see the stars of your old home planet if he kept fucking you like this bent over the table that you’ve hosted the emperor and nobility at.

Hell the whole of Giedi Prime could watch and you’d bask in the power and ecstasy of being taking apart by none other then thee Feyd Rautha.

You heard him grunt deep from within his chest from behind you.

His hands are bruising on your round ass as he grips the flesh and spreads you wide open for him. You don’t have to look back to know where his lustful gaze is, you feel it burning into you. He groans from the view of your wet cunt sucking all of him in to the hilt. You clench involuntarily from the weight of his gaze and moans when you feel it. You’re still spread open when you feel the wetness on your puckered hole before it slowly drips down to where you both connect.

Your eyes roll back from the sensation as he keeps fucking into you watching himself completely disappear into your swollen cunt.

“Good fucking girl” his rasps as you take all of him.

“Oh, nggh fuck!” You yelled trying to catch your breath, each thrust of his large cock punching the air from your lungs at this angle. Your heeled feet hardly touching the cold marble floors from the force of him behind you. “Feyd, gonna fu-fucking c-cum all over you! M’ ma-make a mess!”.

Your husband didn’t need to be told, even with your short time together he knew you inside and out like no one else. Literally. Much to his surprise and everyone else it had only took a brief moment of your eyes locking at a ball held by the emperor -which Feyd was forced to attend by his uncle for appearances sake- for Feyd to fall completely for you. The night wasn’t over before you had fallen in return for the ruthless na-Baron.

This seemed to please your husband if the groans he was making were any indication.

“Fuck this is the sweetest cunt in the whole fucking galaxy and it is mine” he grunted in his raspy voice above you, you had falling forward at some point from the force of his thrusts, your palms flat and elbows on the table.

“P-please don’t stop!”

You felt Feyd’s strong hands grip your shoulders and pull you back forcefully. The sudden moment causing a gasp to leave you. There you both stood, your back to his chest, his hand in your hair as he fucked you deep. The drag of his cock was driving you insane. You felt so full of him this way. You felt his blacken teeth nip your ear.

“You said you’d make a mess, go ahead little wife. Make a mess all over me” His rough voice encouraged as his full lips sucked the skin just below your ear. “Cum for me” He whispered.

“Fuck!” You yelled out as your body jerked and the tidal wave of your orgasm came crashing down on you. Drowning you completely in the pleasure only he was able to take your body through.

“Do not spill me wife” you heard his low begging against your neck.

You felt him continue to pump into you as you slowly started to come down from your high as you felt him swell within you. The feel of him, the sounds he was making had your body quickly chasing him again.

Your eyes meet his as you started to rock into him again. He smirked he already knew. Knew what you need from the way those big beautiful eyes stared at him. He was quick to wrap his hand around your throat, the same hand that killed others daily but would never dream of hurting you in a way that wasn’t pleasurable.

“Please kiss me” You choked out, hardly getting your words out as you watched him watch you.

His lips were on yours dominating you completely before you finished begging him. His tongue licking into your mouth. You felt the slight movement of his rhythm being off and knew he was close.

Your hand slips down to your cunt, working your wet clit softly to compliment the rough fucking when you felt the first bit of his warmth. You moaned loudly in his mouth before pulling away so you were able to watch his face of pleasure as he took you, fill you with his seed.

Feeling full of him and filling with his seed pushed you over the edge again as your mouth fell open with a scream. Your eyes never left his as he stared down at you with that look you’ll never get over. Here you were fucked stupid and yet he looked at you like you hung the moon.

Your body shook and you almost fell forward with the strength of your second orgasm when his strong battle ready arm wrapped around you keeping you in place, slightly off the floor so he could keep his cock in at this angle. His other hand tightened around your throat as you both stared at each other, you breathing uncontrollable while your infuriating handsome husband looked like he had only exerted a little effort. Years of training did him well.

He kept his hand at your neck, tighten and relaxing his grip as his other hand sank down to your swollen cunt. His eyes showed amusement as he smirked down at you. Sometimes you’d give anything to know what he was thinking and other times he let you see, those big beautiful blue eyes either an ocean storm or a clam one would openly say what his words sometimes failed to.

He tsked at you when you felt him work you clit a little before his long fingers brushed softly where you both were still very much connected.

“Such a greedy girl” His rough voice teased you for chasing a second orgasm before you both could make it back to your shared bedchambers.

You whimpered at the loss of him when he pulled out but you noticed he didn’t pull away. Before you could comment you felt his long thick fingers ease themselves into your wetness.

You moaned as you sunk into back into his chest.

“Since my wife is such a needy one why don’t you give me one more hm? One for good luck?”

You knew you sounded ridiculous as you laughed but quickly moaned at his words you. You could tell he was curious about the laugh that has escaped you.

“Good luck for who husband?” You asked genuinely and breathlessly as you stared at him. His fingers never stopped working you.

He looked as though the answer was obviously.

“Everyone”

You could feel the pressure building in you. You arched an eyebrow in question but could not speak words as your orgasm quickly approached.

“Your husband is less likely to kill when his wife is well pleased” He said his forehead against yours as he pushed you both into the heavy table trapping you between literally a rock and hard place. You felt yourself clench as your pleasure flooded you “Less likely to kill when I have already fill you with my seed for the day”.

You were sure he was making you see those stars.

His grip on your neck tighten while your body shook as much as it could being trapped. You were so worked up you couldn’t even talk as you both stared at eachother. Him watching you reach another wave of ecstasy by his hand. Chest full of pride.

Your breathing once again slowed as you kissed his lips, pecking them over and over as your hand ran up his neck and around trying to embrace him from the position you were in.

He pulled you both back from the table before pulling out and letting your dress fall back down. His fingers were in your mouth before you could notice as you both now stood face to face. You did your wifely duty and sucked them clean while keeping eye contact with him.

His look of approval was all you needed in your day to day life. The shame taught to you of doing such things as a noble woman long abandoned with him by your side.

His eyes left yours to glance down at his soften cock, wet with you before his blue eyes moved to the floor where you two were standing moments before to see the mess of you both.

You watched him tuck himself away before taking a napkin and quickly cleaning the floor. He had this thing with anyone coming close to your…release. The thought of anyone else touching or even smelling it drove him into a rage.

He smirked as he stuffed it in his pocket. Hie eyes finally landing back on yours.

“Well wife looks like you’ll just have to take me again and this time I won’t let you leave the bed until you listen like a good wife and do not spill me”

You felt the familiar tingles of pleasure at your core from his threats.

😅🫠

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