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nctsworld · 4 years

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two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

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introloves · 4 years

Note

Aone having a FAT crush on a tiny quiet barista at his new favorite cafe, they’ve memorized his order and even makes sure to keep his favorite seat open every morning for him- maybe they go to his school too but they never really talk? They kinda smile at him and wave in the hallways but never talk?

THIS IS SO CUTEEEE!!!!! nd bc im me i turned it into smut :( sowwy

— first times + big dick aone, embarrassed abt his size + size kink + brief summary of aone x reader’s relationship before we get to the smut + hard smut towards the end + f! reader

he wouldn’t say anything, he couldn’t say anything but you’d know by the way he he’s always mumbling when he gets to the counter, eyes shying away from your own, hands shaky everytime he’d hand you money, 2.25, every morning for his favorite cup of tea.

it’d always take you a couple seconds to put yourself back together, your own shaky hands tenaciously putting together his drink, perhaps making it with extra care.

he’d usually come alone, but on rare days there’d be a couple other faces. one in particular with brown sleek hair, would push him to mumble out words other than, ‘thank you’.

the teasing laughter and bright red coloring to his face was a dead giveaway. you’d only mess with your friends like this if there was crushing involved.

it’d make you burn up at the thought that he had a crush on you, he’s so big and intimidating and at first you’d have your guard up everytime he stepped inside, a looming presence not hard to notice.

but as the days went by, you’d see how much care he’d put into things. he’d take time to clean up his booth, make sure to recycle his cup, and always shyly nod his head towards you in a silent goodbye. on days where he feels especially brave, aone leaves a flower, one that he thinks most closely resembles your beauty.

on those days, when its your turn to clean the tables and you see a single, delicately picked flower, your heart thumps loudly in your chest.

you’d started falling for him before long.

and of course the dating starts shortly after.

you swear you’ve never felt love before him. he’s everything you needed, a nice security in an otherwise tumultuous and very scary world.

he holds you with arms that are twice as thick as yours, could squeeze you tight enough to hurt so very easy, but instead cradles you to sleep with so much care.

hands that work tirelessly, calloused, veiny and wide touch your face with a delicacy that doesn’t come naturally to someone of his size. he works at it, works at making sure he’s careful.

and you appreciate it, you do, but when you see him open jars for you with ease, reach over your head to pluck whatever you need from the top of shelves in stores, pick you up with no groan or strain, it makes your mind wander.

everything with him is so easy, so you don’t know why, when you’re slick between the thighs, throbbing with want for him, he makes it so hard.

he refuses your advances, pulls you off with a sad smile and jumbled words of,

“he’s not ready.” when you can clearly see he’s hard behind his pants.

it makes you cry, wondering if you’re not good enough. was the flustered flirting, kisses, and confession all just a big joke?

your tears break him, he hurriedly explains that it’s him. he won’t hurt you, can’t, refuses to.

“what are you talking about.” you hiccup, whipping away the tears.

“i just...” he sighs, running a palm down his face.

“i’m too big.”

your jaw nearly drops at that. the heat of embarrassment and lick of something hotter burns at your neck and tummy.

you’ve never heard or seen a man shy away because of his size, usually they boast and brag and have very little to boast and brag about.

you tell him it doesn’t matter, you want him. eyes wide and pleading, hoping he doesn’t shy away because you want him so bad.

his resolution is broken, he’s attracted to you after all. but you’re so small, so cute and plush and curvy in all the places he wants to sink his fingers into.

“i’ll be gentle.” he thinks when he finally grabs you, pulling you onto his lap.

he doesn’t miss the way your mouth shuts closed when you feel him, hips giving a small push against him to make sure you aren’t imagining him like this.

the kissing starts, fevered lips painting eachother in spit, shy moans leave the both of you.

foreplay is skipped, you’ve both held back long enough, and you wouldn’t let him anyways.

“not a good idea.” aone mumbles, but you don’t listen. you want him now.

one again you push at his weak spots, everything he does, he does to please you. but you make it seem that it’s quite the opposite, you want what he wants.

and aone is anything but an aroused man with a cute, soft, tiny girlfriend beneath him.

the first meeting of his cockhead against your leaking, twitching hole has him clench his teeth, hand placed heavy over your tummy to still your hips.

“it’s going to hurt.” he reminds you, but you still don’t care.

“i want you.” you breathe, it makes him hiss.

there were many steps you’d both taken together to get where you were.

from the first time he saw you at the café, bustling around with a smile that tugged at his heart, to a couple minutes ago, when you panted wantonly into his ear about how much you fantasized of him burying himself in you to the hilt, watching your eyes roll back as he pushes in is his favorite so far.

he’s not that expirienced, but knows that the growing wetness dripping onto his thighs with every squelch of your pussy as he sinks in is a good sign.

“g-god. nobu, you’re so big.” you chant.

he knows, he warned you.

but it’s not a bad thing, he thinks, because with just a few pumps in, the stretch he gives you, along with hips brushing against your clit, you’re already creaming around him.

he doesn’t blink the whole time you do, zeroed in on the shake of your thighs, fat squishing him against you, pussy equally trying to milk him of his own.

he thinks the best thing to do is to stay still and wait until you’re okay.

aone knows you are when the talk starts back up.

you can see the sweat glisten against his chest, you know he’s holding back, giving you shy thrusts once more.

it’s good, the same shy, tentative thrusts just made you cum so hard you couldn’t hear for a second, but there’s a hint of raw power he’s holding back.

“takanobu.” you call to him with a shaky voice.

he responds with a worried glance.

“use me.”

he looks at you in disbelief,

“n-no. i’ll hurt you.”

your hips rut, swiveling around the very hard cock of him in absolute desperation.

“i want you to hurt me.” you say. and he sees red.

there’s a tinge of fear at the hardened gaze he gives you, he moves you with an ease, making a show to grab your hips in both hands, lifting you off the bed as he kneels down.

he does as he’s told, moving you how he wants, impaling you down on his big cock over and over, watching the soft parts of you jiggle with the intensity of it, meeting the fat of your ass and thighs with harsh slaps. he digs already darkening splotches the shape of his nails into you.

you can do nothing but scream, trying to hold on to the bed so you don’t slam into the creaking headboard. but you don’t really have to worry, even now he makes sure to keep you from moving away from his pounding.

you can’t feel your legs with the second orgasm that takes you, knees lock and pussy once again creaming all over him while he drills into you.

this is what you wanted, your own pleasure being driven by aone. just like everything else, he makes sure to take care of you so good, your cunt numb and fucked open by the time he’s done.

he pulls out to cum all over your pussy, there’s so much.

he finally comes back to you with a noise that sounds apologetic.

“i’m sor-“ you cut him off before he can say anything, grabbing his face in both hands with shaky arms thanks to him.

“don’t.” you begin, telling him that it’s okay to not be careful, something he’s always been.

you let him know that with you, he doesn’t have to tip toe, that in the safety the two of your shared, he was free to do everything those who didn’t know him whispered about him. he was allowed to be mean, allowed to use those muscles he’s built, allowed to be scary.

finishing with a kiss to his lips,

you’ve loved him since he left you flowers at work, and you’d still love him even after drilling your pussy into submission.

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Drabble#4)

Summary: Jungkook is drunk and misses you. What happens when he teases you with a little video?

Pairing: Always You!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: smut, fluff

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Masturbation (male and female), phone sex

Notes: Decided to get this little thang out askdsdfj enjoy! Remember requests for drabble ideas are open! Lets chat:)

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

Jungkook stumbles into the empty apartment with Jimin and Taehyung following closely behind him. He curses under his breath as he takes his shoes off, the apartment is cold thanks to the running AC and he fucking shivers. He thought being this drunk he would be extra warm but nope, it doesn’t look that way.

“Jesus, what is the temperature set on?” Jimin is the first to outwardly complain. “Do you want me to freeze to death?”

“It is really cold, Jungkook.” Taehyung whines as he slips his own shoes off.

“Sorry…” Jungkook mutters, “y/n usually took care of the air. But as you two know she’s no longer with us”

“You’re acting like she died.” Jimin deadpans as Taehyung tries to stifle a chuckle.

“She isn’t answering her phone…” Jungkook pouts to himself. “She said she would always answer my calls no matter what.” He juts his lip out dramatically and Jimin rolls his eyes.

“She still has a life dude.”

“I am supposed to be her life.” He whines, walking in the living room and plopping down on the couch. “I was only going to tell her I miss her.”

“She knows you miss her man.” Taehyung sits down next to him, “We all know…”

“Well, now you guys get to hear it more.” Jungkook pipes up, “Because I miss her soooo much. I miss her hugs, her cuddles, her kisses, god, I really miss when she would suck my di—”

“Okay!” Taehyung cuts him off but Jimin swats Tae’s arm.

“No, let him finish.” Jimin says with a smirk.

“You’re gross dude.” Tae swats Jimin’s arm in return.

“God, she really knows how to ride dick too.” Jungkook drunkenly slurs out, “Like, she just really knows what she’s doing.”

“I’m glad my girl is getting so much praise!” Jimin claps his hands as his sly smile grows, “Please, tell us more.” He leans his head forward.

“Please don’t.” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly. “Do you guys want to play a game or watch music videos or something?”

“I want to talk to my girl.” Jungkook cries out dramatically. “I miss her.”

“Maybe you need to rub one out dude.” Jimin playfully remarks, “Make a video for her or something.” Jimin is so clearly joking but Jungkook’s entire face lights up like he was just given the best god damn idea in the world.

“Okay, you guys go home. I’m going to bed.” Jungkook stands up and begins walking to your shared bedroom.

“He realizes we aren’t leaving right?” Taehyung asks Jimin and Jimin just shrugs.

“Let’s watch music videos.”

~~~~~~

Jungkook has his phone set up on the desk, his camera on and pointed towards him. He has his shirt off and is only wearing briefs and sweats. He decides to run his fingers through his already messy hair and make it a bit more wild.

He’s going to send you a little teaser video. He presses record on his phone and sits at the desk, his legs spread wide as he rubs himself over his sweats. His cock grows harder and harder as he rubs himself, he throws his head back on the chair. He then takes his hand and drags the sweats and briefs down, letting his cock spring free. He strokes it gently while whimpering. He calls out for you over and over. His quiet voice rising just the slightest as he gets himself going.

And that’s it. That’s the video. He presses stop and watches it over and approves. He sends it to you with a smirk on his face, he hopes you love it.

y/n 3:34am

Jungkook, what the fuck

y/n 3:35am

I started watching that in public!!! Do you know how quick I had to turn off my phone!!!!!!

Jungkook 3:35am

Oh? So you do exist…I was starting to think you didn’t cuz you keep ignoring my calls

y/n 3:36am

im now just seeing the calls baby, Ill be home soon…ill video call you

Jungkook 3:36am

Good.

Jungkook suddenly becomes so fucking giddy, he jumps to his feet in rushed excitement. He can’t wait to see your gorgeous face. Unfortunately, he stood up way too fast, the world starting to spin…his drunken world.

“Ah, fuck.” He slurs.

But really, he can’t wait to talk to you, to see you. It’s been a few months and he has yet to visit. But texts and video calls are what’s getting him through everything, if he’s being honest. He really does miss you…he misses laying in bed with you just talking, he misses your laugh, he misses your smile, he misses the way you smell, he misses holding you…he just misses you.

He’s lying on his bed, staring up at the swirling ceiling, wondering when you will call. It’s around 4 am now and he’s starting to doze off. But thoughts of you are keeping him conscious.

Suddenly, his phone starts vibrating and he sees that he has a incoming video call from you. He excitedly and quickly taps his screen a million times until he’s answering.

“Hi.” He slurs out, his dopey grin making you laugh.

“Hi drunky.” You giggle, staring at him through your screen.

“Just wanted to talk to you and tell you I miss you. And that I love you more than literally anyone.” He smiles at you, his words getting jumbled together.

“I miss you too baby.” You say softly. “I just got home and I wish I was coming home to you instead.” You quietly pout and he wishes he could kiss your cute lips.

“I am going to buy my ticket to see you soon, I promise. Only two more weeks. Then I see you” He says, his smile fading. “I really do miss you babe. I feel so lost without you here.” He admits between soft breaths. “I left the AC on too low and I got back home and it was freezing.”

“Jungkook.” You whine, “The bill is gonna be so high.”

“It’s okay my love. I got it.” He assures you with a soft smile and you begin to melt. The screen does not do Jungkook justice.

“You look very handsome.” You gulp, “Did any girls hit on you tonight?”

“I didn’t notice…” Jungkook smirks, “I make sure to tell everyone I have a beautiful girlfriend.”

You can’t help but smile and laugh…you two have gotten into some pretty heated arguments over your insecurities…you don’t want a repeat of that.

“Good. You’re all mine.”

“All yours.” He blows you a kiss through the phone and you pout.

“I wish I could feel your lips on me right now.”

“I see you in 2 weeks my love, you will get all the kisses you want and need.” Jungkook slurs his words and you giggle.

“God, you are drunk.”

“Not uh.” He pokes his tongue out, “I’m maybe a little tipsy though!” he laughs for no real reason and you join him.

“So about that video…” you smirk at him, and he brings the phone to his chest as he giggles at his shamelessness.

“Hey! Bring the phone back to you!”

“What about the video? Hm?” Jungkook brings the phone back to his face and you rub your thighs together…his hair is wild and his expression screams that he’s beginning to become fucked out.

“I watched it when I got home.” You admit, “I think it made me…” you pause, biting your lip. “Really wet.”

“Oh really?” Jungkook feels his cock hardening at the thought of your wet pussy. “I want you to feel yourself for me and let me know.”

You chuckle, sliding your hand down your yoga pants and feeling yourself.

“I’m wet baby.”

“Your panties soaked?”

“I’m not wearing any.” You breathe out and Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath.

“Bad girl…” he finally says. “I wish I could bend you over my knee and spank you.”

“You wanna slap my ass?”

“Mhm. I want to fuck your ass too.” He slurs out and you feel your pussy clench around nothing.

“Can I touch myself?” you shyly ask him and he shakes his head with an evil grin.

“Not yet baby. I want you to watch me first.”

“Jungkook, why are you being unfair?” you whine, your fingers just above your aching clit that is dying to be touched.

“Just like playing with you a little.” He admits, “I like getting you so worked up.”

“Okay, I’ll watch you.”

Jungkook gets off the bed and places the phone on the desk, setting it up to where you can have the perfect view of him sitting in the chair.

“Should I continue where I left off?”

“Yes.” You sigh out heavily, waiting just waiting to see his gorgeous cock.

“What’s the magic word?” he teases and you’re so close to touching yourself.

“Jungkook.” You warn in an exaggerated whine, “Please.”

“Good girl.” And he’s snaking his hand down his sweats and pulling out his leaking member, it’s so hard and so swollen that your mouth waters immediately. God, you are so starved of his cock that even through the screen it has you desperate for him.

“I want you to grip your cock for me…” you begin to instruct, “And tug at the head just a little, get you feeling good.”

Jungkook obeys your orders as he gets a hold of his aching length, he starts by squeezing the tip just slightly getting him to groan out.

“Good, now use the lube baby. Put a generous amount in your palm, I want your dick soaked.” He does as you say, squirting the lube in his hand.

“Now stroke your cock for me, but don’t put too much pressure.”

“Baby…” he breathes out.

“Pretend that it’s my hand.” You softly order, “Pretend I’m there with you right now.”

“Ah.” Jungkook moans out as he strokes himself, “Feels good.” He says, causing you to arch your back. You begin moving your hips back and forth as you watch him.

“Okay,” you swallow hard, “Add more pressure and stroke yourself faster.”

Jungkook squeezes his hand around his length, his moans getting louder and you blink at him, your hand tightening its grip around your phone. He looks so fucking hot.

“I want you to take your other hand, yes good, and touch your balls for me, yes…just like that.” Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes, his cock and balls out on display and you want to jump through the screen and straddle his lap, sinking down on to him. Fuck, you want to touch yourself.

“Shit…baby…” you say, losing composure as you watch him get himself off, “Please let me touch myself.”

“Okay.” Jungkook gives the green light, “Rub your clit for me.” He says while rubbing himself faster and faster, his head thrown back in pleasure as high pitched moans leave his mouth.

“Thank you baby” you set your phone down, your hands quickly pull down your yoga pants and you immediately touch your desperate bundle of nerves.

“Gotta see you though.” Jungkook whines. “Need to see you. See your pussy, see your face.”

“Fuck, okay, hold on.” You prop the phone up on some pillows until he has the perfect view of you.

“Lemme see your fingers on that pretty pussy baby.” He softly commands and you feel yourself get dizzy. “Even through the screen I can see how fucking wet you are, my god.” Jungkook strokes himself faster. “My baby is so perfect.”

“How close are you? Can you wait for me?” You practically beg and he smirks.

“I got all night baby.” He winks, “Now get your fingers nice and wet, soak them. Then I want you to taste yourself.”

Your fingers gather your juices, drenching them in the process. You bring your fingers to your lips and suck on them, allowing a moan to escape. Jungkook rolls his eyes to the back of his head as he watches you.

“Good girl.” He praises, “How’s it taste? Fucking delicious, right?”

“Yes. Yes.” You moan out, your fingers going back to your clit.

“Want to see those fingers fuck your pretty pussy.” He slows down on his cock, he grips it tighter instead and rubs himself slowly. “Let me see.”

You slip one finger inside your hole and gasp, it’s been so long since something, anything has entered you like this.

“Another finger.”

Your eyes widen at his request…but you listen, you slide another finger inside your weeping cunt and begin to thrust them in and out of you.

“Another finger.”

“Jungkook.” You sigh out, “Another?”

“Yes baby, you can take it.” He fondles his balls some more, still stroking his dick. “Let me see.”

You slip a third finger in your hole and you start to feel full. You begin thrusting all three fingers in and out of you at a quick and brutal pace. His fingers would reach more places but yours will have to do for now.

“Ah fuck…” you grit out, “I wish you were here, Jungkook.”

“Keep saying my name.”

“Jungkook, Jungkook.” He starts rubbing himself faster now, he is losing it. He imagines you writhing beneath him, your lips apart, breathing heavily. He’s so close, he fucking close.

“Baby, let’s come soon.” He breathes out, “Together.”

“mmm.” Your other hand finds your clit, and you begin rubbing it faster and harder trying to set yourself over the edge.

“Imagine my cock is inside you right now baby, imagine me fucking you, making you scream my name.”

“Yes, Jungkook!” you yell out, not caring if your neighbors hear you. “Fuck, I’m about to come.”

Jungkook grips the tip of his cock and strokes himself so quickly, his hips meeting him halfway as he moans out your name over and over until his cum is spurting out and making a mess in his hand. That’s the last straw…that’s what you needed to see to get you to come.

You let the tension build so deliciously, until it snaps in half. You come all over your fingers, with the image that you’re creaming all over Jungkook’s cock.

“Ugh.” You groan, “I miss you so much…” you calm your heavy breaths, “Can two weeks hurry the hell up?”

Jungkook stares at the screen and smiles, his hand still sticky with his cum. He grabs a towel and cleans himself and is looking at you once again.

“Two weeks baby, and I’ll be there. I’ll be there to hold you, kiss you, fuck you.”

“Two weeks.” You say with a smile.

Two weeks and you’ll be reunited with your love.

#bts #bts drabble #bts smut #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #always you drabbles

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buckyjamess-archive · 3 years

Text

𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓲 ❁ 𝓫𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼

a/n: keep writing reader as the villain of the story, about time this man screws up • wordcount: 1.3k • warnings: kids, babies, parenthood, cheating, alcohol, bucky being an idiot, mentions of sex, blink and you'll miss it.

summary

going through rough years after losing your husband, you try to raise your daughter the best you can. With the help from the wilson's you make the best of it but the road is bumpy when sam introduces you to his friend.

masterlist

He shouldn't be here. He promised himself to never wake up in this bed again, ever and yet he finds himself sitting on the edge of the memory foam mattress, soft lilac blankets underneath his naked thighs. The smell of the room is familiar but it's not you, not Rosie, not JJ, not home.

He should've stayed home, told you he didn't need a boys night out because he deserved just that– for taking care of the kids while you were a mess, not available and not there when he needed you the most. Yes, he deserved that but maybe the pub his friends had dragged him too was not the right place to be.

She worked there. She who he had ended things with weeks before meeting you. She with a head of brown curls bouncing around her face, bright green eyes through thick lashes and the cute little dimples in her cheeks whenever she smiled so bright, nose covered in freckles on a sun-kissed canvas and god, if only her personality matched her looks, he would have fought for this one the way he's fighting for you and his family.

God, he was in love back then, one of the firsts he saw a future with. Like a bunch of teenagers, making the eyes of his friends roll with the lovey-dovey behavior– looking back at it made Bucky cringe. The first six months were amazing before her attitude took a 180 and changed for the worse. Possessive, jealous, lowkey crazy.

He wished to never bump into his ex Melissa ever again.

But he did and with the beers coming, alcohol running through his veins and the lack of real intimacy made his mind foggy. The hugs, the cuddles and stolen kisses were not cutting it anymore, he missed you in all other ways and Melissa was there to fix it, like an angel with a halo above her head and rays of light casting from behind her – guiding him straight to what he desired most.

He shouldn't have been here. Your relationship was taking the right turn, amazing, a do over, like the beginning. The acceptance letter to that nursing school you applied for and your weekly visits with your therapist did wonders for you. Giving bucky back the girl he so deeply fell in love with and he put it all on the line for some sex. Sex he would've gotten if he just had asked you and even then he didn't have a reason to complain. His 7 months old son asking all your attention and a jealous rosie hanging around your leg nearly every hour of the day– you had the right to fall asleep as soon as your head hit a pillow.

"You know what they say; once a cheater, always a cheater."

Bucky clenches his jaw and bites the inside of his cheek, nails digging half moons in the skin of his palms as his hands turn into fists– god, all the reason why he dumper her coming back up.

"I never cheated on you." He hisses through gritted teeth, back still turned to her.

Melissa snorts "pretty sure you left me for that baby mama of yours."

"We were long done before that," bucky spats back "for reasons. You being a pain in the ass being one of them."

"That's not what you said last night."

God, he didn't even call you or send a text. A shit excuse of staying with a friend for the night, too drunk to get home while he knew damn well he wasn't going home with them.

"I can ask her you know- ask her why she doesn't want to have sex with you anymore."

Bucky nearly gives himself a whiplash with the force he turns his head around to meet with the green eyes of the half naked woman on the other side of the bed with a smug smile on her face. Playing with her phone in her hand.

"Don't you fucking dare."

"She has a right to know bucky." Melissa smiles wickedly "she has the right to know you slept with your ex."

"I'll tell her myself." Bucky hisses again "I don't need you for that."

"y/n, right?" Melissa quips, phone stills in her hand as she unlocks it with a swipe of her finger "I think I've seen her Instagram before– gotta say Barnes, the boy looks like you."

"Melissa, I'm begging you." Bucky sighs "please, I'll tell her myself."

I'll tell her myself– only if he believed that lie himself.

A date night, some one on one, some time alone is all what was needed to fill the missing gaps in your relationship. Both kids off to spend the night with bucky his family; just you and him.

Dinner at your favorite sushi bar before strolling through the city hand in hand, catching a movie the both of you were dying to see followed by a round of beer at the first bar you stumbled upon and right back home– a trail of clothes leading from the kitchen, too desperate. Hands on each other and whispered sweet little nothings. Skin to skin. Raw. Real. Perfect.

But his mind couldn't help and wander to last week; tangled up in his ex her arms under thin sheets in a familiar bed. Mind wandering back to that night, not because he couldn't get Melissa out if his head but the regret– he'd done the same thing tonight but with the real love of his life, the mother of his kid, his future wife but it eats him alive; you can do better than the lying man he is. He needs to tell the truth, it's the least you deserve but he can't. He can't lose what he has now, a future.

He wants that white picket fence outside of the city with a big garden for your babies to grow up in. He wants another mini him or mini you running around, maybe even two if life is that kind. He wants to be by your side through thick and thin, in sickness and health, the bad and the good. He wants to see you stroll down the aisle in that perfect dress. He wants to be a good father figure for rosie, the perfect father and perfect husband– he's put it all on the line for some bad sex with a woman he despised so much.

He can't but he needs to tell the truth. No lies.

The smell of sex is still stuck in the air and the rays of moonlight cast through the crack between the curtains, the sound of the city a background noise– his arm is asleep from where your head rests but bucky runs his hand through your hair and presses a kiss to the crown of your hair, taking in the warm fruity smell of your shampoo. Your naked body cuddles up to his, soft legs entangled with his and a soft and warm hand laying on his chest right near his heart.

you're asleep, have been for a while but he can't; his eyes on the ceiling, following the small cracks in the paint and the cobweb he missed earlier this week.

Bucky once again finds himself preparing himself a.nd his stupid apology 'a drunken mistake' and 'it won't happen again' followed by a pathetic 'forgive me?'

He hopes you're getting angry at him, call him names, cursing him, wishing you never met him, a big mistake– bucky simply cannot bear the thought of you crying over him, he doesn't deserve your tears, doesn't deserve you. But above all, he wishes things will turn out okay in the end; see you happy even if it means without him. You deserve that.

God, he needs to tell the truth. You'll find out one way or the other, if not from him it'll be Melissa herself.

'Hey doll, we need to talk.'

taglist; @farfromshawn @Nicollettemarie @wooya1224 @felicityofbakerstreet @agentmstark @sierrax023 @lilyevanswhore @qhbr2013 @buckybarnesobsessed @themaddies-obx @aloserwithoutacause @aanngie @sebby-staan @sweetth1ng @starrystarkey93 @libidinexx @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @gasly-kvyat @brown-bi-beautiful @peter-laufeyson @im-squished @meshlababy @lindseyrae20 @cb97skies @qwccrr @ssprayberrythings @yougottalovefandoms @jbcalway @realgaytrash @natyvwe @poetryazenth @winterberryfox @ahahafudge

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #rosie and i*

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tickleraptorss · 3 years

Text

Asking For It

Prompto and Noctis have always been great friends, and as it turns out, they seem to have similar tastes... at least when it comes to tickling.

a/n: hi i had this rly soft idea in my head and i- (worms fall out of my pocket) oh god oh shit fuck im so sorry goddammit fuck

It’d been a rather innocent question. A question that Noctis found intriguing, adorable and relatable all at the same time. A question he’d never dared to ask himself, in fact. Even during the times where he was feeling extremely touch-starved, or just wanted some affection in his own... Noctis way.

He would’ve never guessed Prompto was the same.

Both Gladio and Ignis knew about Noctis’ and Prompto’s weakness, and even shared similarities. Tickling wasn’t uncommon between the four of them, although most of the time Noctis or Prompto would end up being the victims. Compared to Gladio’s strength and Ignis’ wit, the two of them were nothing but a ticklish mess of nerves. Not to say that they never got back at them, because of course they did, but more often than not these revenges would end up as failed attempts.

But as time went on, and so did the frequent tickling, Prompto and Noctis found themselves starting to feel differently about the whole ordeal. While at the beginning of their trip they’d constantly try to thrash their way out of, say, Gladio’s bear hug (which was impossible), now they’d hardly try. Noctis had just thought he was getting used to being tickled nearly daily, or that his body was naturally reserving his strength for fighting. And then... a spontaneous 3AM realization hit him.

He liked being tickled.

Not in a sexual way, of course, it was more of an... intimate interest... as he would put it. Something he would only trust his romantic partners with. And since he was dating Ignis, Gladio and Prompto, there was no worry there. But they’d always tickle him until he was wheezing with silent laughter, which made Noctis’ mind wander.

Before he knew it, he’d started craving it. He would purposely stretch his arms over his head, leaving himself wide open for attack. He would attack the others in hopes that they would get him back (which usually worked). But after a while, he started to crave something more. Or... something less, depending on who you asked.

He started to find himself staring at loose Chocobo feathers for a little too long, and luckily the others just thought he was staring into space. He noticed he would stare at his companions’ hands quite often, and before he knew it he could feel the ghosts of fingers scribbling at his tummy, which would make him visibly shiver. It was only a matter of time until he realized exactly what he wanted.

He was way too embarrassed to ask any of his boyfriends, though. He knew there wouldn’t be any judgement, and that they’d happily do it... but still... there was something stopping him from asking. And so... he tried to ignore it.

He thought about it a lot, though.

He just loved to imagine fingers sliding across his tummy, wiggling so gently and teasingly. A voice teasing him about how ticklish and adorable he is. Gentle kisses to his neck as hands roamed around-

“Hey, Noct!” Prompto peaked his head in through the tent, causing the prince to startle. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Got a minute?”

Noct blinked. He’d almost completely forgotten where he was. Ignis and Gladio had gone out to get some ingredients for dinner, and so Prompto and Noctis were left to their own devices.

Without giving the prince time to reply, Prompto entered the tent and cuddled up to his boyfriend’s side, a content sigh escaping him.

“Someone’s affectionate today,” Noctis chuckled.

“I’m affectionate every day, dude. Gotta meet my cuddle quota!” Prompto exclaimed, tackling Noctis to the floor and nuzzling against his neck.

“Hehehey!” Noctis giggled. “Th-that...”

“Tickles?” Prompto finished the sentence, raising his head up from the prince’s shoulder to look at his boyfriend. “Actually... I didn’t come here just for cuddles... there was something else I wanted to ask...”

Noctis tilted his head, waiting for Prompto to ask his question, but in response Prompto’s face flushed a bright red and he averted his gaze.

“I-I... um...” He stuttered, before hiding his face behind his hands in embarrassment. “This is so embarrassing!”

“Prom... whatever it is, I promise I won’t judge you,” Noctis reassured.

“I know it’s just... it’s silly...” With that, Prompto took a deep breath, and...

“Canyouticklemeplease-”

“Huh?” The words came out jumbled and quiet, but Noctis definitely heard the cursed word in there somewhere. “C-Can you repeat that?” Prompto whined, and then took another deep breath.

“C-Can you... uh... t-t-tickle me... please?”

So that is what he said after all!

“You want me to tickle you?” Noctis asked, and Prompto nodded sheepishly.

“Y-You don’t think it’s... weird... do you?”

“No! Of course not! It’s just that...” Noctis awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, shooting Prompto a shy smile. “I thought I was the only one.” His face flushed a bright pink as he said that.

Prompto blinked, then smirked, quickly shifting their positions so that Noctis was pinned on his back.

“You too, huh?” He scritched underneath Noctis’ chin, earning a surprised squeak from him. “I wouldn’t mind taking care of that for you,” he whispered.

“B-But what about you? You asked first!”

“I can wait, you look too cute right now!” Prompto wiggled his fingers in the air, and Noctis squeaked and turned his head away from the wiggling digits, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to look at them.

“Wait!” Noctis grabbed Prompto’s wrists for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath. “I-I don’t just... want to be t-tickled... well I do, it’s just, in a specific way...” Carefully, he guided Prompto’s hands to his stomach. “Just... be gentle...”

Prompto smiled sweetly, and kissed Noctis’ forehead before his hands slipped underneath the prince’s shirt.

“You’re adorable!” He exclaimed, giving a slight giggle of his own. “Anything for you, Your Ticklishness~” There was that teasy, sing-song tone that Noctis had been hoping for. He knew Prompto was big on teasing while tickling, but he had no doubt that he’d be more ruthless with it now that Noctis had asked.

Fingers began to move, and the prince’s body jerked in response to the slight movement of fingers. As they continued, Noctis tried to contain his giggles, keeping a hand over his mouth to hide his growing smile.

“Don’t be like that, Noct! I wanna see you smile!” Prompto’s fingers sped up ever so slightly, lightly scratching at the sides of Noctis’ tummy. Giggles began to pour out of the ticklish prince, and Prompto moved Noctis’ hands over his head, chuckling when he didn’t put them down again. “Keep your arms up the best you can for me, ‘kay?”

Noctis obliged, keeping his hands above his head just like Prompto asked. Noctis looked at Prompto, who was smirking at him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Slowly, his hands descended onto the prince’s sensitive ribs, scritching gently at the lower area of the spot. Noctis squeaked in response, his face flushing a bright red when Prompto traced the lowermost ribs.

“Ehehe- Prompto!” Noctis aimlessly called out, twitching in response to the light tickling.

“This seems like a preeeetty good spot!” Prompto announced. “Think I’ll stick around here for a bit~” The blonde’s fingers kept tracing along the ticklish skin, watching as Noctis quivered underneath his fingertips. The prince’s giggles became squeakier, and he was wiggling involuntarily, but his hands stayed above his head.

That was until the gunman’s hands moved to his sides.

Noctis yelped, his arms immediately coming down to defend the ticklish area.

“Noct!” Prompto laughed. “You’re supposed to keep your arms up!” He teased, poking Noctis’ sides repeatedly. The prince’s laughter increased in volume as he desperately tried to lift his arms up, but instincts told him to keep them at his sides.

“I cahahan’t!!” Noctis squeaked when Prompto moved his arms above his head again.

“Too ticklish?” Prompto teased, before giving Noctis a quick peck to his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and gentle!~” With that, his fingers were on the move once more. Wiggling slightly, the evil digits traced up and down Noctis’ sides, gliding from the sides of his ribs to just above his hips. The ticklish prince had buried his head in his shoulder to attempt to hide the blush and smile on his face, but there was no denying that he was extremely flustered right now.

While he did try to control his laughter somewhat, giggles still flowed out of him quite freely. Those giggles turned into laughter when Prompto located a particularly ticklish bundle of nerves just above Noctis’ hipbones, and began gently circling his fingers over the spot, making Noctis arch his back slightly. And of course, there was that cute, squeaky laugh that came out whenever a sweet spot was being tickled.

“Aww, does that tickle?” Prompto taunted, chuckling when Noctis shook his head. “No? Well I guess you wouldn’t mind if I moved on to your tummy then!”

Prompto’s fingers glided over to Noctis’ stomach, which made the prince’s entire body shudder. Oooh, this was gonna be a fun spot...

“Promptohoho!” Noctis’ giggles were now a full stream of squeaky laughter.

“Yes?”

“It- ahah! It tickles!”

“Well, yes, that’s the point,” the gunman chuckled. His fingers continued to work their magic around Noctis’ tummy. They skittered around the sides, circled around his bellybutton, even traced along his waistline, which earned the cutest squeals.

“Who’s my ticklish little prince, huh?~” Prompto sang, his fingers idly tracing random shapes over Noctis’ stomach. “You loooove this, don’t you? Sure sounds like you do~”

“Shuhuhut up!!” Noctis could barely handle the teasing, in fact, it made him feel even more ticklish than before.

“Well, that’s not very nice,” Prompto stopped the tickling, but still rested his hands on Noctis’ tummy. “I think you should apologize, after all...” he leaned closer to Noctis to whisper to him.

“You did ask for this~”

Noctis groaned, flustered out of his mind. His face felt impossibly hot, and the tips of his ears were red at this point. He hid his face in his hands, but he couldn’t hide the fact that he was enjoying every moment of this.

“Don’t hide!” Prompto’s hands were back on his tummy. “Kitchy kitchy kooooo~”

Noctis wasn’t sure exactly how long Prompto tickled his belly for, as he knew it was Prompto’s favourite spot (that and his feet). But it wasn’t much longer until Noctis tapped out, panting and letting out tiny residual giggles, which made Prompto coo at him. The gunman rolled off of Noctis and lay next to the panting prince.

“Sooo, how’d I do?” He asked.

“P-Pretty good,” Noctis answered.

“I mean, it’s not exactly hard to tickle you,” Prompto smiled. “You’re a walking tickle spot, dude.”

“It’s not like you’re much better!” Noctis sat up, looking down at Prompto, before grinning. “Besides, I think it’s someone else’s turned to be tickled~”

Noctis pounced on the blonde, proceeding to tickle him to pieces, before they got themselves into quite the tickle fight.

When Ignis and Gladio returned, the found Noctis and Prompto cuddled up together, napping away in their tent.

#tickle fic #tickling #boys' night out #raptor writes #guess what! i still don't know how to end fics #anyways idk if i like this one #but it's soft so i'll post it anyway

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hongism · 4 years

Text

risky - p.jimin 18+

➻ pairing: jimin x reader

➻ wc: 2.3k im so sorry

➻ genre: fluffy crackhead flirting n smut

➻ rating: nsfw

➻ warnings: public fingering, fingering with rings on, risque~, alcohol involved

➻ summary: you meet jimin in a bar and try to hit on him. it doesn’t end how you thought it would.

➻ @yolokoo asked:

“HEOLO CALYSPOA I WOULD LIKE JIMIN AND COCK(tail) AND HOT COCHOLCATE PLEASE MISS”

➻ @jintobean asked:

“hewwo mIGHT I HAVE SOME WINE AND VODKA FOR mishter jimin where y/n is hitting on him but he’s clueless and thinks y/n is a waiter or something absurd and somehow he ends up liking her and complains that she never made a move. ILY THANK YOU”

➻ a/n: y’all im so sorry idek what happened i have nothing to say for myself tbh

☽ ☾

“Hey, come here often?” You greet with a surprising amount of confidence exuding from your figure. You place one hand on the table, leaning over to look at the man with peach-colored hair. His features are even more stunning up close like this, and you cannot believe that your friend convinced you to do this. You blame the alcohol current running through your system; liquid confidence as some would call it. You have to agree with that statement now, because if you were one hundred percent sober you never would have walked over to this table in the first place.

“O-Oh, not really,” the man stutters in response. A pretty blush paints his round cheeks, a rosy hue that glimmers under the bar’s yellow lights. A wave of arousal rushes to your core just from the sight of the man blushing, and you again blame the damn alcohol in your system.

“That’s such a shame. I was hoping you could show me around some.” You pout and pull your arm off the table to glance at his tablemates. There are two other men with him, although they are far too preoccupied with the drinks in front of them to notice you. The pretty boy laughs, a nervous sound that dies in the din of the bar within moments.

“Co-Could I get some water?” He inquires. “Maybe?”

You don’t know what you’re doing when you say yes. You don’t work here. Hell, you’ve never even been here before. You aren’t wearing any sort of uniform either, but the man must be too tipsy himself to realize that fact. So, in your tipsy state, you agree and spin on your heel to head back to the bar for his requested water.

“Two waters please, bartender,” you request once you reach the wood. Part of you hopes that the man is watching your backside as you move. A one-night stand with the likes of a man that attractive is far too tantalizing for you to pass up, and you can only hope that he feels the same way about you. The bartender passes the drinks your way, and you snatch them up with a bright smile. As you walk back over to the peach haired man, you shoot a wink over to where your friends sit, watching from a distance as you shoot your shot.

“T-Thank you,” the man says as you place one of the waters in front of him.

“Can I join you?” You ask all of a sudden, motioning towards the empty space beside him. The man blinks up at you, and confusion shines clearly on his features. You don’t give him much opportunity to stay confused because you slide across the booth to be beside him. “I’m Y/N, and you are?”

“Oh, uh, Jimin. Park Jimin. Do you – I-I’m sorry, but do you work here?”

“Do I…” You trail off. It’s your turn to be confused and you aren’t sure how this miscommunication started when all you did was try to flirt with the man. “What? No. Uh, it’s my first time ever coming here.”

“Oh! Damn, I-I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, no! It’s totally okay. I’ve been mistaken for worse things than waitress.” You wink as you say the words, and Jimin’s eyes widen as your implications shine through.

“Ah, well, I understand that feeling. Sometimes they aren’t far from the truth though.” Jimin’s words slur a little as he guzzles some water. You watch his Adam’s Apple bop as he swallows, almost wanting to reach out and drag your fingers over the small bulge. You resist thankfully; it would be a terribly strange thing to do especially when he has two friends sitting directly across the table.

“What do you mean?” You ask instead, trying to divert the conversation so that you don’t have to think about touching his milky white skin.

“I’m a male stripper,” Jimin says as though it’s the most casual thing in the world. You choke on air at first then try to recover by gulping down some water, only to choke on that as well. Jimin glances over at you, concern shining clearly in his eyes. “A-Are you okay?” He reaches out to touch your shoulder, fingers meeting bare skin, and it’s like a thousand little jolts of electricity shoot through your whole body. You recover from the coughing fit to stare at him in wonder.

“You – you’re a stripper? I…wow, I never would’ve guessed.”

Jimin all but cackles upon hearing your words. “What on earth makes you say that?”

You flush as his gaze falls over you, a sudden heat to his eyes that has you melting already.

“Y-You just seem… you seem a bit shy.” All the confidence you had earlier dissipates, blown away in the wind by Jimin’s newly revealed nature. His full lips curl into a smirk. It’s almost like he’s treating your interaction like a game, a predator hunting its prey and toying with it before the final meal. Jimin drops a hand to the table and lets it linger near his glass of water. His fingers drum against the wood in no particular rhythm but it feels like your heart is racing along to the same beat.

“Shy, huh? I get that a lot. Many people think that of me prior to seeing me in action.”

“Se-Seeing you in action? Yea, yea, stripping. Yea. In action.” You struggle to get the words out, clothes feeling ten times tighter now, and you press your thighs together at the thought of seeing Jimin in action.

“You’re so cute. Girls like you are so easy to read.” Jimin chuckles and brings a finger under your chin. He lifts it ever so slightly yet you follow the motion like a dog being given a treat. Hot breath ghosts over your lips as he leans closer to you. Just when you think his lips are going to brush over yours, he ducks past your mouth and touches the shell of your ear with his lips instead. “So easy to get hot and bothered with only the slightest glance. It’s adorable.”

You swallow roughly, unable to formulate any proper words. Jimin continues to mouth at your ear. His breath cascades over your skin and causes chills to run down your spine.

“You were so confident when you came to the table, baby girl.” A wave of heat rushes to your core. You clench your thighs together so hard that it hurts but Jimin doesn’t relent. “Where did all that confidence go?” His tongue darts out and drags across your ear. You feel the ball of a piercing running over your skin and have to suppress a moan at the idea of Jimin having a tongue piercing.

One of Jimin’s hands snakes down from the table and hesitates over your thigh.

“Is this okay?” He asks, voice almost husky. You give a subtle nod. You’re far too wary of the two men sitting across the table. While they don’t seem interested in what you and Jimin are doing, you know that could change in the blink of an eye, and you don’t want to risk them seeing you in this state. Still, you have to admit that there is a certain rush to being caught with Jimin’s hand rushing up your thigh. “Words, baby girl. I can’t read your mind.”

“Yes,” you whisper as quietly as you can. Jimin’s fingers clench around your thigh once you mutter the word, cold metal from his rings a sharp contrast to the warmth of his fingers. You whimper ever so slightly. Jimin picks up on it, a low chuckle passing through his lips as he watches you squirm under his touch.

“God, you’re so adorable when flustered like this,” he hisses against your ear. As he speaks, his hand travels further up your thigh, slipping under the material of your dress to find the source of your arousal. His fingers brush over the damp spot on your underwear, and you release another small noise. “I want to see you unravel under my touch.”

Your teeth sink into your quivering lip, trying to keep any further sounds at bay. Embarrassment burns at your skin, and Jimin’s touch persists, dragging over the damp spot with the lightest pressure. It’s enough to be teasing and cause small shocks of pleasure to radiate from your core every once in a while.

All of a sudden Jimin sits back and reaches for his water with his free hand. The other one pushes your panties to the side, revealing your sopping core. He doesn’t hesitate in dipping his fingers into your heat and pushes past the thick strands of arousal to reach your hole. All the while, he sips at his water as though nothing else is going on. Once he takes a large gulp, he faces you again, this time with a teasing smirk to his lips.

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” He asks. Your eyes widen in shock at the question, baffled that he even wants to attempt conversation while his fingers are in your pussy like this. You neglect to respond for a few moments. Jimin’s lips curve down ever so slightly, and his fingers pull away from your heat. You desperately try to keep them in place with your own but he swats your hand away before you can. A high-pitched whine escapes you. Jimin’s eyes grow darker as lust washes over him.

“I-I, uh, I’m–” You can barely speak because as soon as you begin to, Jimin’s fingers push back against your core, one finger dipping into you while his ringed thumb toys at your clit. “I work at a clothing store. Retail. I’m in graduate school full-time.”

“Ah, a smart woman.” Jimin smiles. He turns to the men sitting across the table as he drags his ring over your clit in small circular motions. “Guys, this is Y/N. I think you both were too preoccupied with your drinks to meet her.”

You can’t believe that he’s introducing you while he is knuckle deep in your pussy, but it’s painfully obvious that he intends to carry out an entire conversation while like this just based upon the persistence of his touch.

“H-Hi,” you manage to stutter out. You cannot bear to look the two men in the eye, the burning shame of what’s going on under the table too much to handle.

“What did you say you were studying at graduate school, Y/N?” Jimin asks. He tilts his head in your direction. A playful gleam flashes across his eyes as he pushes a second finger into your core. The curve of his rings drags against your walls, and you instinctively clench around him.

“U-Uh, biology. I’m doing – studying biology.”

“Oh wow! That sounds super neat!” One of Jimin’s companions says, a broad smile stretching across his lips. You mean to respond with a smile of your own but the moment your lips part, Jimin curls his fingers in you and draws out a faint whine. You bite down on your tongue so hard that you think you might bleed. Neither man across the table comments, leading you to believe that they either didn’t notice or are choosing not to embarrass you in the open like this.

You can see Jimin’s lips curling into another devilish smirk as he hears your small noise. He curls his fingers even more, brushing against your sweet spot. He knows that he’s hit it by the way your breath hitches.

“So what do you wanna do with biology? Do you have any plans yet?” The same man persists in talking to you yet you want to do anything except talking at the moment because Jimin is bringing you closer and closer to the edge with his ministrations.

“I, uh, just you know…” You trail off to swallow roughly. Jimin’s fingers continue to fuck into you. “I w-wanna do something in the marine biology field! But if that doesn’t work out I’m u-using biology as a safety – ah, a safety net.” You nearly squeal as you conclude your sentence. Jimin brings you closer and closer to an orgasm, and you can almost taste it. It’s dangling in front of you. You zone out as the man across from you continues speaking, focused solely on chasing your orgasm. Then –

Nothing. Jimin’s touch disappears. He pulls his fingers out of you, flicks your underwear back in place, and acts as though he didn’t just finger you to near completion in the booth at some dingy bar. You whip your head in his direction, and he’s staring back at you with equal tenacity. A moment of silence passes. You can feel the heated stares of the men across the table but pay them no mind in favor of looking at Jimin.

“If you’ll excuse us both, I promised to take Y/N home tonight. She needs to go to bed early tonight, what with school and work.” Jimin nudges you out of the booth with his fingers that are still coated in the juices of your arousal. The look in his eyes tells you that you won’t be sleeping early at all tonight.

☽ ☾

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kinsurou · 4 years

Note

wifey!! congrats on 500 followers im so freaking proud of you 🥺💓 can i request 83 for hawks with a dom! reader maybe theyre in public 🙈 and mayhaps 79 for tamaki but its tamaki who has to do the covering? thank you!! ❤️❤️

Aaaaa, thank you so much wifey! I owe this to you guys in the server for helping me out and supporting me! 😭💖

83. How quickly can you cum?

79. You don’t need to cover up the bruises/hickeys

Takami Keigo

If there’s something Hawks really loves about his favorite yakitori restaurant, is the privacy. Having a whole room all for yourself to have your meal in peace is something to be thankful when you’re one of the most popular pro heroes as well as one of the top-ranking ones such as him.

It is also the perfect place for such scandalous acts like the one you’re currently performing. hidden underneath the table with your lips wrapped around his erect member. The teasing smile you give him from under the furniture as your hands keep stroking the base of his throbbing cock is just so...alluring.

enough to nearly make him cum all over your face in the spot, but he wants to hold on as much as he can. It’s not often that he gets the chance to be pampered by his precious fiance after all.

When he reaches down in a desperate attempt to pull on your hair, the hand quickly gets slapped away and those sharp eyes look at him through long eyelashes. That makeup of your always leaves Hawks mesmerized.

“Did I say you could move, babe?” Your lips release his throbbing cock and your stop stroking him, earning a pathetic little whine in response before he gives a slight shake of his head “Good boy! But if you try that again, might as well take care of this all by yourself, got it?”

“Y-yes…!” It wasn’t often that you went dominant into the relationship, but when you were in the mood? God, Keigo loved it. So he just relaxes back into his chair while your mouth once again begins to pleasure the writhing man squirming in the palms of your hands.

“The waitress is almost here. Tell me baby bird….How quickly can you cum?” Your cheeks are hollowed as you start sucking him harder, softly playing with his balls to turn the hero into a hissing mess, he gives you a small pout when you pull away again “Don’t give me that look baby bird, you brought this upon yourself.”

“Please babe…” He’s doing just as told, hands gripping harshly into fists while his body leans forwards on the table, careful not to spill your drink in the process. “I’m close, I’m really close!”

“You’re one spoiled little bird, aren’t you?” Those giggles may sound sweet to others, but he knows that once you’re both back home, he’s in for quite the surprise. “Oh well...I guess I can spoil my little bird just this once˜.”

This time, you take in his full length until it reaches the back of your throat, and the little growls as you try to hold on for as long as you can make him shudder at the feeling. It takes less than a few seconds for him to release inside your mouth with a groan as he emptied himself inside your mouth.

Slowly you pull away for good, kissing cutely at the head with a little smile, watching the lovestruck smile Hawks gives as he looks down at you with glassy eyes full of unshed tears. He’s struggling to catch his breath after that little stunt, but it’s not something he can really complain about, especially when he hears the small ‘gulp’ and watches with widening, astonished eyes as you swallow his seed with no struggle.

“You’re such a good boy, Keigo!” As a reward, you tuck him back into his boxers yourself, zipping the pants quickly and crawl back into your seat, then you grab a napkin to wipe at the corner of those soft lips he adores, where a small white spot messes up your lipstick.

Frowning, you begin rummaging through the seemingly endless void inside your handbag until you find the small mirror, completely ignoring your panting fiance while looking at the reflection with a small pout.

“I have to fix my makeup.” You rise from the seat before coming to his side to give the red-faced hero a soft peck on the lips “I’ll be right back babe!”

You walk out of the room at the same moment the waitress comes in with a couple of drinks, you both exchange a friendly greeting before you walk out towards the bathroom.

“Sorry for the waiting, here are the drinks you ordered” She gives Hawks a look before blinking twice “Are you feeling okay sir? Your face seems red.”

His eyes widen for a second before he gives her an awkward smile accompanied by a small wave of his hand.

“I’m fine miss, don’t worry about it.”

Tamaki Amajiki

He’s pulling at his collar unconsciously, looking embarrassed at his surroundings as if every person passing by was judging him when the truth is they’re actually concerned about the scarlet shade adorning his whole face up to the tip of his ears.

How could Tamaki not feel self-conscious with the purple and red bruises adorning his whole neck starting from the jaw and ending all the way to the collarbone?

But he has to admit getting them was the best experience of his life, the feeling of your lips leaving trail after trail of love bites on his skin still lingers deep into his memories. As well as the way you kept riding him with a burning passion, quite ironic for someone with a water quirk.

Not that he didn’t put his part on it as he thinks back to the way he clung to your body, desperate to finish deep inside of you as the friction became nearly unbearable for him after going at it for hours.

“You’re...ah! You’re doing great honey!” You whimper in his ear as your nails keep scratching all over his back in synch with each thrust of his body against yours. the burning sensation at his back made him growl, something that surprised you both as Tamaki was usually the whimpering type. But that sound he let out was so...dominant, that your body couldn’t help clenching tightly around him.

Your face withdrew from his neck to look him in the eye, tenderly your hands grabbed the sides of his burning face before giving him a deep, passionate kiss “So that’s what you’re into, baby? Praising?”

A thumb traced over the outline of his jaw, touching one of the small marks scattered across the skin “Being told how much of a good boy you are, baby?” you yelped, startled by the sudden jab of his pelvis against your core, face buried once again into his shoulder to whisper sweet nothings into your sweet boyfriend’s ear.

“Y-Yes...I-I love it when you say that.” His arms wrapped tighter around your waist to pull you down on him at a frantic pace, too lost in satisfaction to think about anything else but having you closer to him for a little longer.

Between the sweet words, the warm feeling of your walls around him, and the mouth leaving bite after bite on his neck, Tamaki was surprised he prevailed that long. He could only hope that soon, there could be another chance to have a taste of your-

“Babe?”

His head jolts towards the direction your voice comes from, and there you are wearing that costume that has made him take so many cold showers over the last months, that it’s a wonder he hasn’t caught a cold by this point. “You’re pulling your costume a lot.”

“I um…” He struggles to say it, but judging by that mischievous smile on your face, it’s evident that you know what he’s trying to point out. Softly pulling on the edges of his cape, Tamaki’s face is pulled down so you’re looking at him in the eye, almost in a parallel way as that night shared together between the sheets. “You don’t need to cover up the hickeys.”

You share a small kiss together, nothing too scandalous but nothing too sweet either. By this point, the sound of the paparazzi scrambling, desperate to capture the romantic gesture between two heroes and lovers could almost be heard from a mile away.

“If I were you…” releasing him from the hold, he only sees you walking forwards and waving slightly at Red riot, who just came back from patrol. “I’d be more worried about that boner!”

His blush couldn’t get even redder as he stumbles in place, attempting to hide his front with his cape and realizing at the last minute that it was all just a joke.

Your sweet (not so sweet) laughter could be listened to across the street, and Tamaki almost yearns he could crawl into a hole right there, right now.

@unbreakableeiji

#mha smut #bnha smut #bnha hawks #hawks smut #tamaki smut #tamaji amajiki #takami keigo #prism does a prompt #500 followers event

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corruptedconfessions · 4 years

Text

ThunderGod!Denki x Reader

Day 3 Give it up for day 3 of monster fucker October

Stay tuned for an almost 2k words smut squeal to this, which will be published as day 4 tomorrow uwu

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

Prompt: Thundergod!Denki! “You stepped into my territory, which means you belong to me. And I don’t let things that are mine go.”

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

Your heart was pounding so hard you swore it was going to burst from your chest as you ran through the woods, branches hitting your face and snagging at your clothes as you desperately ripped yourself free, pushing your legs harder, the thud of your feet hitting the ground vibrating through your entire body, making your blood race harder, roaring in your ears as you ran blindly through the darkness.

You’re lungs and legs burned together, begging for a break, begging for you to stop but you couldn’t, not until you were sure he was gone. You couldn’t even tell if he was still chasing you, unable to hear anything over your own heartbeat, your own desperate ragged gasps for air. Your eyes watered against the wind hitting your face, blinding you even further against the darkness, leaving you tripping and stumbling over gnarled roots and bushes as you ran. You couldn’t stop running, no matter what.

If he got you it would all be over.

So run you did, right into a solid chest, an arm immediately latching around your waist, pinning your body against the chiseled torso as the figure above you laughed.

“Boy! You sure know how to run! Don’t worry, though~ I’ll always catch you.”

You stared up at the face of your captor, of your god, stunned in horror as he gave you a sleazy grin, his golden hair and eyes still glowing against the darkness. One could call them captivating, absolutely stunning, gorgeous, any number of wonderful things, but it just made your stomach sink as you were painfully reminded of what you were up against, of what your chances of getting away actually were.

“M-my lord please! I-I didn’t mean- I meant no disrespect!”

Weakly you hit at his chest, every hit feeling like punching stone as you tried to push him away. Tears finally started streaming freely down your face as you gave a weak sob, struggling to cry as your lungs still ached from running so hard.

“I-I didn’t know it was your temple, my lord! I-if I had known I would have never- Please let me go!”

You cried harder, the ethereal glowing image blurring as tears covered your vision.

Even over your own sobs and desperate gasps for air you heard the displeased tsk that came from the god, you could practically feel him rolling his eyes as he grinned down at you.

“Silly little thing~ You stepped into my territory, which means you belong to me. And I don’t let things that are mine go.”

You hiccupped softly, your breath stuttering as you stared up at him in confusion, small trembles wracking your body as you stared up at him, finding a lazy, almost playful grin on his face instead of the righteous fury you had expected.

“W-what?”

“What, did you expect me to smite a cute little thing like you just for stetting foot on my temple grounds?”

Well…yes. You did. Everyone in your village had always told stories about the misfortune that came upon anyone who stepped foot on the thunder gods territory. Whispers told of people being stuck by lighting where they stood, electrocuted until they were burned to ash, along with dozens of other terrible tales had been told to you your whole life. The god your people worshiped and served was not known to be a benevolent one…

You had known the risks when you had stepped foot on sacred land, you had known the stories, but had always assumed they were just that, stories. At least until a bolt of lightning had struck just a few feet away from where you had stood, and when the light had faded away there was a man there, glowing in a way that no mortal possibly could.

So, with your villages stories in mind, you had turned heel and ran away as fast as you could.

“I-I…”

You’re breath stuttered again as your tears slowed, the panic and fear melting out of your body, quickly being replaced with bone deep exhaustion and confusion. You just wanted to go home...

“Humans are always such silly little things, so easily spooked. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you~”

You froze up again as his hand slid away from your waist just to hook under your ass along with his other hand, hoisting you up into the air, leaving you scrambling against him, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck so you wouldn’t fall.

“There you go, cutie~ Such a good little human~ Im sure I’ll have fun with you.”

“W-what-! No! P-put me down-! I need to go home-!!”

Rolling his eyes at you again, that annoying grin staying strong on his face you were shushed down like a child, his grip on you tightening to an almost painful degree. The next words that fell from his lips chilling you to the core.

“I am taking you home, home with me. We can play together, forever…~”

Hands squeezed your ass roughly, pulling a startled squeak from you as he swooped down, your teeth hitting against his as he kissed you roughly, tongue sliding into your mouth. He tasted…sweet. Like syrup and honey, and something strange and yet so familiar. Almost immediately you found you couldn’t push him away anymore, all your senses becoming…syrupy. Everything felt slow and hazy. You blinked slowly in confusion as he pulled away, smirking down at you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, watching as your head lolled against his shoulder, your eyes sliding shut as you fell asleep.

“I’ll never let you go~”

#yandere #denki kaminari #denki x reader #reader insert #monstermonth #fantasyau

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risottoneroo · 4 years

Text

self indulgence, pt 20

a/n: heres my first ever finished series!! fuck this has been a ride, but im glad to have done it with all of you.

warnings: weddings, crying, pregnancy mentions

The planning for your wedding passed in a blur. It would be in Sicily, in Risotto’s hometown, and in the church he had gone to growing up. His family thought he was dead, and he knew it was best to keep it that way.

Your honeymoon would be in Malta, and it would be only a week. Risotto didn’t trust his subordinates to run the newly fledging organization for longer than that.

An increasingly obvious problem was Secco. The man had grown more and more attached to you as the days went on, and he now had a hard time being separated from you. He did wear clothes now, usually shorts and a loose t shirt, but he still had the unfortunate habit of coming to you when he was horny.

Secco was a unique issue, and one you needed to confront. He was a grown man who acted like a particularly obedient pet, who clearly had issues that couldn’t be resolved easily, and who was a very powerful and loyal Stand user.

Risotto would rather Secco remained attached to you than have to kill him, but he’d made it clear in no uncertain terms that Secco was not to come on the honeymoon. You agreed. You’d have to find someone who liked him.

Your solution came when you were trying to order the invitations. Your computer kicked the bucket just as you were finishing. Fortunately, Melone was in town, and he agreed to come over and help. The moment he stepped in the door, Secco was on him like an overeager dog. Melone frowned. “And who’s this?”

You sighed. “Secco, stop! He’s Cioccolata’s former human pet. I transferred his loyalties.”

Melone swallowed. “Your Stand is very…interesting.”

You laughed. “You can say scary.”

He shrugged and leaned down to pat Secco’s head. “He’s very cute.”

Secco purred and looked pleased. “Thank you!”

Melone jumped. “Oh, you talk!”

Secco’s voice was less garbled now, since you’d worked with him on speech. Melone knelt and looked at Secco. “Do you like it here?”

Secco grinned. “I love it here. Y/N and Risotto aren’t mean to me, and they aren’t weak like Cioccolata was. And Y/N is so pretty-”

He blushed and looked down. Melone chuckled softly and stood. “He’s an interesting project, to say the least.”

You sighed. “Yeah. My issue is that he can’t exactly come on the honeymoon with us.”

Melone shrugged. “I’ll keep him.”

You blinked. “Really?”

He raised an eyebrow. “A human pet? I’d love to talk more with him.”

You shrugged. “Secco, do you want to go with Melone for a week?”

Seccon grinned. “He seems nice! Yeah.”

You shrugged again. “Okay, well, he’ll take you to his apartment after he’s done here, so go and get your things.”

Secco bounded into your room. You sat next to Melone on the couch, and he pulled up a mockup of your wedding invitations. “I knew something like this would happen, so I saved duplicates of everything on Babyface.”

You hugged him. “Thank you so much.”

He shrugged and hit a few keys, sending them to the company you were getting them from. “It’s not a problem.”

He hugged you back and smiled. “I’m happy you and Risotto are finally tying the knot.”

You pulled away and smiled back. “I am too.”

He stood, and Secco came out of your room, holding his bag. It had his changes of clothes and his toiletries, both of which you had gotten for him. Getting him to take a bath at first had been hell, but he’d eventually grown to like it.

Melone took his hand. “I’ll take good care of him, Y/N.”

You smiled and knelt to kiss Secco’s forehead. “Be good for Melone.”

He hugged you tight and nodded. “I will.”

You hugged him back, then let go and stood. Melone nodded to you and led Secco out the door. Secco was walking normally, although it was a little bowlegged.

You sat back down at your desk, glad that at least one of the knots in your life had been untangled.

RIsotto came home late, looking tired. You were on the couch, typing on your laptop. When you saw him, you put it down and reached out. He pulled off his tie and fell onto your lap, groaning. “They’re so fucking stupid.”

You stroked his hair gently. “What happened?”

He shook his head. “They’ll never survive without me.”

He turned over and looked up at you. “They’re barely making it without you. With both of us gone, this whole operation might just go under.”

You sighed. “Prosciutto?”

Risotto bit his lip. “Has his hands full containing the leak. Formaggio would be able to hold it down for a few days, and with Illuso, probably a full week.”

You shrugged. “So we have some extra work at the end of the day. Not a bad thing.”

He shrugged back and stayed quiet. You kept scratching his hair, and he hummed. You smiled. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

He nodded, yawning again. You patted his head. “Go put on pajamas. You’ll wrinkle your suit.”

He rolled his eyes, and got up. “The suit isn’t even that expensive-”

You shook your head. “I like it, I don’t want it to get wrinkled.”

He stuck his tongue out playfully, and you smiled.

You turned on the TV while he changed. You glanced into your shared room. He was down to his briefs, stretching out tired muscles. He smiled at you, and you smiled back. He pulled on a baggy tshirt and came out. “Hey.”

You held out your arms, and he laid down on you. His feet were hanging off the end of the couch, but he didn’t care.

The day of your wedding came faster than you’d expected. Risotto had stayed over at Formaggio’s place the night before, so tradition could be kept. A team of Passione aestheticians had come over early in the morning and made you up and laced you into the dress. You sat in a chair and looked at yourself as they contoured and colored your face. The makeup was soft. You swallowed the nervousness in your throat. You were the queen, and they knew it. What had you done to get there? What would you do to stay there?

The church you were getting married in was massive. All of Passione was in attendance for the ceremony, but only a select few would be present for the reception, mostly the former members of La Squadra di Esecuzione and their new spouses or underlings. Bruno’s squad would be there as well, even Mista. Risotto had refused to budge on ordering him to attend. The final nail in his coffin, watching the woman you love become inaccessible forever.

You were prepared to walk down the aisle alone. But when Prosciutto met you at the door and offered his arm, you were grateful. He kissed your cheek gently. “You look beautiful.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “I know I have to give you away to him.”

You touched his cheek. Your heels made you taller than him. “We’re friends.”

He closed his eyes. “Yes.”

The music started, and the doors opened.

The church was beautiful, festooned in lace and white roses. The sun shone through green, white and blue stained glass, and the ceiling was high and airy. Your train trailed behind you as you walked down the aisle with Prosciutto.

Risotto was standing at the altar, looking angry as usual. His tuxedo was black from the skin out. The only break was his white tie. He turned to you, and his facade broke.

His face crumpled, and he covered his face as he began to cry. You rushed the last few steps and took his wrists. “Ris, what-?”

The church was stunned. Nobody had ever seen him cry before. He pulled his hands away from his face and wiped away his tears. “Fuck. You’re beautiful. I never thought-”

You smiled weakly. “If you cry, I’ll cry. Quit it.”

He nodded and inhaled deeply. His black sclera never revealed that he’d been crying. The priest cleared his throat. “Are we ready?”

You nodded and took Risotto’s hands. The priest began. “Dearly beloved-”

You zoned out and watched Risotto’s face. He was smiling at you. He looked utterly content. You both repeated after the priest, and after your “I do’s”, he stepped back. “The couple will now state their vows to one another before God.”

Risotto swallowed hard and pulled out a stack of notecards. He blinked and looked at you. “Y/N. You are the woman I love. When I found you, I hoped against hope that someday we would be here, and I, against all odds, and all evidence to the contrary, have finally gotten something I want. Someone I want. You have risked your life to get us where we are now, but that stops here. I will keep you safe. I will make a home for you, wherever that may be.”

He swallowed hard and continued. “As I stand here, under the eyes of God and Passione, I know that I chose right. I chose you, and I will keep choosing you.”

You sniffled, and Prosciutto at your elbow handed you a handkerchief. You took Risotto’s hands. “Risotto Nero, you have been the only constant in my life for a long time. I have loved you for longer than I know, and I feel blessed every day that I’m by your side. You make me laugh and cry, rage and smile. I have risked my life for yours, as you do for mine. I would do it again in a heartbeat. You are the only man I would do this for. I chose you. I will keep choosing you.”

The priest spoke softly, but the whole church heard it. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Risotto’s lips were on your before the priest finished his sentence. You could taste salt and blood, tears and iron. His lips were crushing and desperate, his hands pulling you in close to him passionately.

He pulled back, panting softly, and you smiled at him. “You have lipstick marks.”

He laughed and pulled away, taking your hand in his and facing the church. The priest announced, “I present to you today, under God for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Risotto Nero.”

Epilogue.

Of course it didn’t end there. Risotto rose in power and fame, eventually controlling all of Italy in his web of organized crime. He became known as “L’uomo Nero”, fitting both because of his last name and his fashion sense, as well as his sadistic taste in punishment. He was feared and respected. He never allowed anyone else to dole out punishment, and ruled with an iron fist.

Your powers, as soft as they seemed, were more feared among the organization. Rumors of you making men fall in love with a touch, then leading them into the jaws of L’uomo Nero, circulated long after you both retired.

When Risotto turned 35, he decided he’d had enough. You retired with him to a small villa on a hill in Sicily, overlooking the beach. You stopped taking birth control, and were pregnant with twins within the year. They were born as white-haired as their father. Risotto doted on them, and on you.

You found him one day staring into the mirror at his body. When you had met him, ten years ago now, he had been slim and tall, like a tree. As he neared middle age, his body had thickened and gained muscle and fat. His belly stuck out over his shorts, and body hair had thickened on his chest and stomach. He’d raised an eyebrow at you, and you’d kissed him. He’d sighed. “I’m not the same man you married.”

You’d laughed. “I’m not the same woman. Does that mean we give up? Does that mean I don’t love you every day?”

He smiled and kissed you again. “No. It doesn’t.”

You were pregnant again the next year. Risotto’s love for you grew as his children did, and when you became pregnant again with twins, he decided it was time for a vasectomy. You agreed.

You grew old together, watching your children play in the waves.

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

The Catch

Prompt: #199 for anon – “Sorry if I made you cry.”

Anonymous said:

Hi! I don’t know if I did this right, but can I request for the game #199 with JB (got7) please and thank you❤️

Pairing: Im Jaebum x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: there is a glossed over sex scene

Word count: 1633

Falling for Jaebum happened far too easily. The first meeting had left you wanting more and apparently it had been the same for him, the man gravitating towards a space in your heart that he claimed within mere weeks of knowing him.

You decided you would fall in love with him, and were on the fast track to doing so.

But something made you hesitate, and it had to do with how easy everything was.

“Surely, there’s a catch,” you murmured as you shifted closer to Jaebum after a delicious meal and night out at the movies. His arm was effortlessly wrapped around you and he glanced down, smiling at you despite the curiosity within his eyes. You grinned. “This is going all too well.”

“Should it not?”

“Well, I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate that it is,” you commented, knitting your brows together as you tried to think of how to word yourself.

“There should be a catch,” Jaebum agreed a moment later. He held up his free hand and started counting his points with his fingers. “You’re funny, gorgeous, passionate, and when we kiss-”

Blushing, you reached out to grab his hand as he chuckled. “The list for you is just as long.”

“Is it?”

“Must I tell you?” you asked, leaning towards his head that had lowered just enough for you to reach his lips. Even kissing had you working together naturally without any awkward moments.

After stealing your breath away, Jaebum rested his forehead on yours. “Tell me more at mine?”

Nodding, you couldn’t help but grow excited at the prospect of this next step in your relationship. Maybe the catch was him himself. You had gotten lucky to have reeled him in thus far, and frankly, you weren’t about to let him go.

That was apparent by the way you held his hand on the trip to his apartment, and all the way to the front door. Jaebum then scratched at his head shyly. “I uh, wasn’t planning on any visitors.”

“It’s good we chose your place and not mine, I’m certain I have dirty laundry on my floor,” you confessed to ease his worries and Jaebum grinned before putting in the code to open the door.

Passion blinded your ability to take in his apartment. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you both, hands moved just as fast as your mouths did, moans leaving you as he hoisted you up into his arms, carrying you along to what you presumed to be his bedroom. And if you had already thought everything within your relationship had been amazing, you hadn’t been ready for the mind-altering sex that you had that night.

Nor, were you prepared for the stuffiness of your nose and the tears in your eyes when you were done expressing your adoration for one another.

Jaebum frowned lightly. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re crying, Y/N,” he mentioned softly, reaching to wipe away the tears that had seemingly fallen down your cheeks. You blinked rapidly as his dark gaze regarded you. “Sorry was I…?”

“No!” you exclaimed, shaking your hands repeatedly. “No, I enjoyed every moment with you.”

Jaebum still didn’t relax. “I’ve never had a partner cry after sex.”

“I’m not normally one to do so either. My nose just feels really stuffy.”

“Are you feeling unwell?” he wondered, sitting up and half out of the bed in a panic, evidently trying to think of what to give you.

“I don’t think so,” you murmured, taking his hand and stopping him from leaving you. “Hold me?”

Smiling, despite the concern still within his eyes, Jaebum slipped back under the covers and pulled you to his chest, sighing in content as he stroke at your hair repeatedly.

Soon, whatever worries you were having melted away and you fell asleep, completely unaware of what had triggered your reaction in the first place.

However, you were quick to discover it in the morning light. Slowly sitting up, you were aware of several things. Your eyes hurt and were sore to the touch. And your nose was incredibly stuffy.

This would be the catch.

Of course, you would have caught a cold and be embarrassingly sick the morning after sleeping with Jaebum for the first time. If the world could swallow you up whole now, you would have gladly accepted.

Except, as you sat up and took in Jaebum’s belongings, your gaze faulted on something in the corner of his room.

Oh no.

Just then, whilst you were dealing with the turmoil of your discovery, languid kisses began being littered over your bare arm until Jaebum shifted enough to reach the side of your neck. “I could get used to waking up like this.”

“Huh?” you breathed, cringing at how stuffy you sounded.

It was enough to remove the sleep from his eyes, Jaebum soon narrowing his gaze on you. “Y/N, are you...”

“We have a problem,” you explained, quickly covering your mouth and nose as you sneezed. Jaebum immediately felt your forehead and you shook your head against his hand. “I’m allergic to you.”

“To me?” he echoed and you shook your head rapidly, feeling your cheeks grow warm at your mix up.

“To your home.”

“I’m not following.”

Pointing to the cat stand in the corner of the room, you sighed. “I’m allergic to the owner of that.”

“Owners,” Jaebum lamented, and rubbed at his face before laughing bitterly. “You’re allergic to cats?”

“Horribly. I can’t believe I didn’t realise it last night when I started to have all the symptoms. I guess I was too love-drunk by what happened between us.”

Jaebum’s lips slowly curled up. “Love-drunk?”

“Oh, uh-”

“Can you take something for your allergies?” he continued, brushing your hair away from your face.

Nodding, you smiled. “I have medication for it.”

“So you’re not allergic to me.”

“Just your furbabies.”

“Well, they are a part of me,” he said and you nodded.

“I wouldn’t expect you to think differently about them just because I’m allergic.”

Jaebum leaned in to kiss you briefly. “No, but I can make sure to limit things to help you be around me. It’s the catch we were looking for, right?”

You smiled. “Right. Besides, there’s always my home.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” he murmured sensually, and then scrunched his face up at you as he pulled away. “Babe, your nose.”

“Oh!” Wiping at it quickly, you then clasped a hand to your head and laughed desperately. “I’m a mess.”

“Thankfully at your house, you won’t have to worry about this.”

“So next time we meet up, do you want to come over?”

Jaebum nodded. “I’m serious about us. What did you say before? I’m love-drunk about us.”

Smiling, you couldn’t wait to enjoy further intimacy with Jaebum, and once you were medicated and in your own home, you’d have no runny nose and red eyes to hold you back from doing so.

Alas, it was Jaebum’s turn to react though.

“Wait, you’re allergic to dogs?” you breathed incredulously, watching your dog Nero bounce around your boyfriend who was trying his best not to touch him. “I can’t believe this.”

“I’m not as bad as you, I don’t think,” he mumbled, smiling at Nero’s energy and then looked at you. “But yeah, I’m allergic to dogs.”

“Do you want to go home then? I don’t want you to-”

Kissing you with a hunger that wasn’t meant for the kitchen, your thought process stopped entirely. And then Jaebum sniffled. “Okay, so maybe there’s more to it than I thought.”

You noticed his watery eyes and couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry if I made you cry.”

“Well, we did say everything was going too smoothly between us.”

“There had to be an obstacle somewhere along the line,” you concluded, fishing around in your purse before presenting some medication. “Do you take this brand?”

“At least we can commiserate like this, huh?” Taking the medicine and the water you offered him, Jaebum then moved back into your space. “I’m not very attractive right now, am I?”

“I mean, you’re definitely more humanlike. Before, I was certain the Gods had sculpted you themselves.”

Laughing, despite how blocked up he sounded, Jaebum then shook his head. “That was cheesy but I love it – I love you.”

“I love you too,” you responded, grinning with how easily it rolled off the tongue. Jaebum’s expression mirrored yours. “Even if my dog makes you cry.”

“And my cats’ hair makes your nose itch.”

“Do you think we can be together for a long time?” you wondered as Jaebum leaned in closer to you.

“Maybe we’ll grow immune to our allergies.”

“And if we don’t?” you countered, brushing his hair away from his face.

Jaebum laughed. “Then it looks like I’ll be taking medication to be around your dog.”

“It’s a small price to pay since everything else is perfect, right?”

Kissing you, Jaebum nodded. “Besides, we’ve both seen each other looking disgusting after an allergic reaction now. If that doesn’t put us off, nothing will.”

“I happen to like cats a great deal,” you told him with a smile and Jaebum laughed.

“Your dog is pretty cute too.”

“As cute as me?”

Jaebum scooped you up into his arms as you giggled. “Let’s see if after making love if I’m crying like you did or not.”

“Hey! That was because of my allergies!”

“Hm, well for me, it might because of you,” Jaebum announced, waiting for you to give direction to your room.

You hadn’t thought about your pets being the cause to a problem between you both, but knowing that was all that was in your way made you hopeful that the rest would come just as easily as everything else had.

_________________

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zuffer-weird-girl · 5 years

Text

Be quiet!

You had the urge to just shout at those motherfuckers just to see if they would stop making so many noise. But you merely breathed in and out in favor of calming yourself down to prevent any sounds to come out of you.

Especially when some man was sleeping peacefully for once in your side.

Chisaki never knew how to hold himself back with whatever he did or choose to do. Pops always commented, and you had to agree, that Kai takes tuings a bit, LOT, too far than necessary... his job on the yakusa was a living proof of that.

Just yesterday the man sended four people to the hospital for insulting the yakusa or Pops on his front... they aparently were in a coma.

Not only that but how he digged himself into work; spending hours even on his office. And he would only come out of that room if he was satisfied with himself at how much work he had done that day.

You lost count on how many times you had to drag that bastard out of that room, almost passing out with sleep in the middle of the hallway and having to hear a bit of his complains if how much his head hurted.

Of fucking course sweetheart you would have your eyes sore, chill for once!

When Kai finally admited he was tired, his personality did a whole 180 defree turn, for real. The usual cold, unforgiving and stoic man would just melt on a puddle of sleepy little bird who just wants to close his eyes and fall asleep for once... demandinh your sweet touches or on his head and scalp or on his back.

He loved the sweet scratches on his back musvpes and lived only to feel your gentle touch on him... he admit it? Hell no. He had a reputation to up load.

And you loved and took advantage of everytime he was like this? Yes. Without shame.

He was just so cute whenever those puff golden eyes looked at you before he shoved his face on the crook of your neck, in the top of your head or even on your thighs and just wordless told you to start that magical touch of yours that could lull him to a peaceful sleep.

Although... the Shie Hassaikai was never a quiet place. Especially when the creatures named Rappa, Mimic and Chrono lived on there.

Chrono was the most quiet but yet whenever he would get too much into a argument or a discussion his voice showed out... while you didn't had to comment about Rappa or Mimic...

Your jaw tightened in irritation at hearing the shouts and Nemoto's demands for the rest of the gang to keep their voice down, knowing that his master was taking his rest.

Your eye twitched when Rappa just told him to fuck off while you mentally cringed and gasped when Chisaki grunted a bit on his sleep...

Afraid that he would wake up, you traced your fingers through his hair while the other carresed his cheek a bit, that frow on his forehead dissapearing as his face returned to a peaceful one.

You sighed in relief before slowly getting out from your sitting position on the bed. You knew how Kai was a light sleeper, but he was so tired that he apparently didn't caught yet the yelling outside of his room... and even made a slightly aoft snore sound, making you giggled a bit before you closed the door.

Just when you closed you flinched at Mimic's yell and threats of death while the other precepts tried to calm him down.

That's it. If Chisaki wake up with this, that man was staying grumpy as fuck for the rest of the week, and he NEEDED his fucking rest.

Glaring already at the group when you found them, Mimic being hold by Chrono and Tengai while Nemoto tried to reason with the man as Rappa only cursed even more... Setsuno, Tabe and Hojo shared worried looks while Deidoro just slurped his laugh before he drinked on his bottle again.

You bringed your hand close to your face and made a rather loud noise of 'SHHH', catching everyone attention and making even Rappa and Mimic stop yelling at each other.

"For God's sake keep it down!" You whispered shouted with a irritated face "Overhaul is just some rooms away sleeping, have some respect!"

"We kinda were trying if it wasn't for these two." Chrono hissed while he finally let go of Mimic.

"We apologize miss (Y/n)." Nemoto bowed in shame along with Tengai... before Rappa just let out a scoff.

"Do I even care if that fucker is sleeping? Soon Im going to ask another match so the earlier the fucking better!"

"Rappa please-" you begged while lifting your hands up

"YoU sHOuLD Be FUcKinG GrAtEfUl FoR bEinG AccEPtEd On ThE YakUSa StUpID Bag Of MeAT!" This time even stesuno and Hojo had to help Chrono to hold him for not attacking Rappa, Tabe and Nemoto almost giving their all strenght to hold Rappa back as well.

"THE FUCK YOU CALLED ME SHRIMP?!"

"ShRImP YoUR fUcKinG Ass! I wiLL GivE YoU A LeSSon FoR bEinG So DisrEsPeCtFuL wITh oveRHaul AnD ThE YakUSa PUNK-!"

Your eye twitched violently as that while you cringed your tteth together in pure hatred, now it wasn't only the two that were yelling but almost everyone on that room... you made a grunting sound as you gripped a bit on your hair...

Gosh, one fucking day, one day you wanted it for your boyfriend to have a peaceful nap. It was that much to ask?!

"QUIET!" you shouted while you steped hard on the ground, beinging your hands to your side after your deadly and threatening yell at the ten man in front of you.

You mentally slapped yourself at collaborating at their loud noise but yet sighed a bit in relief when all of them had their eyes wide open but completely silent.

You were a bit like Kai in some ways, only shouted when necessary. You guessed it that by all of their reactions it was because it was the first time everyone of them had heard you raising your tone of voice like that.

They lowered their heads in some respect as even rappa rubbed the vack of his neck and muttered a apology.

You sighed again and rested your forehead on your hand, muttering 'finally'.

You although arched one eyebrow when all of them tensed while looking at something behind you before Chrono just said the name you so desperately didn't wanted to hear at that time.

"Overhaul." He greeted while the others bowed at their leader right besides his lover. You turned a bit around with furrowed eyebrows to see still tired eyes, so much that they were still blinking away the sleep, hair a bit messy as he supressed a tired yawn with his gloved hand.

He merely sended them a what was suppose to be a glare and blindly reached for your hand and pushed you along with him back to his bedroom.

"Kai I'm so sorry for wakening you up." You started the moment you got in the room while he closed the door slowly "They were just being too loud and I tried to tell them to keep their voices down but they wouldn't hear me until I shouted and-"

"Quiet." He mumbled before he pushed you to lay on the bed, shortly following after to lay on your chest with a content sigh "You weren't in bed and I heard those shitheads arguing..." he mumbled on your skin before resting his cheek and breathing in slowly to let out another pleased sigh.

"So you did woke up before that uh?" You said in sadness at seing his peaceful sleep was interrupted... again.

He grunted before his hand grabbed on your wrist and placed it to his darkbrow looks.

"I woke up because you weren't here. So just do that thing to compesate your fault."

Your heart flutered at such words before you smiled warmly and started to trade your fingers through his soft hair, giggling a bit at the similiar sounds of purring he let out now at then.

He literally didn't gave a damn about his mysophobia when he was sleepy. He was so adorable like this! So you treasured every moment whenever it was possible.

Soon you scowled at hearing the noises again, this time they were arguing about who will die first or who was the one to blame.

You grunted before feeling his arms wrapping around your frame, caging you to him as he buried hsi face on your neck.

"Not even the most expensive and comfiest pillow or cushions can compare to your softeness and warmth my angel..." he muttered with closed eyes as he nuzzled a hit "I love every second of it."

You mentally shouted in glee at hearing his words, not only almost dying by his cutennes but also because Chisaki felt comfortable enough to be that vulnerable around you... and the most important? He sayed the "L" words without a problem.

"Glad to hear this my devil." You whispered before planting your lips on his forehead before taking his mask off to plant a kiss on his lips "Sleep well my handsome man."

He growled a response beforw his breath became steady and relaxed, his chest rising and falling into you as his body finally accepted the rest he so desperately needed it.

You flinched and stoped a bit your petting at hearing the shouts and some cracking nkises sound, only to return your attention at your boyfriend, scowling at losing the sweet contact of your fingers on his scalp before relaxing when you returned them.

#overhaul x reader #overhaul scenario #fanfic overhaul #overhaul #chisaki kai imagine scenario #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki kai x reader #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #chisaki x reader #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha characters #bnha villains #bnha #bnha fanfiction #my writing #zuffer writing

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illfoandillfie · 5 years

Text

After Party

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Reader x Lucy Boynton

Summery: You and Joe were planning on having a quiet night in, until Lucy called inviting you to the Oscars after party.

Warnings: Smut (18+), Threesome (duh), dom/dom/sub (dom! joe, dom!reader, sub!lucy, with a slight blink-and-you’ll-miss-it hint at sub!joe), orgasm delay/denial, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), face fucking, little bit of choking, cumplay, spanking, strap-on, overstimulation.

Words: 6385

A/N: Ya’ll can blame @supersonicfreddie for this one. Also Lucy for looking so fucking cute at the 2020 vanity fair oscars party. And that video of Joe making out with a cupcake. I know that happened months ago but y’know, some things just stick with you until you write something filthy.

(there are zero pics of them together that night and frankly that’s just not fair)

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @tenement-funstah

It was close to ten when the first text came in. You laughed and showed it to Joe, sending off a quick reply before you turned back to the movie you were watching, pulling Joe’s arm a little tighter around you. A second text followed about ten minutes later and then a third not long after. “Is that Lucy again?” Joe asked before you could show him. “She really wants us to crash that after party,” “What’d you say?” “That we’re in our PJs already and don’t plan on leaving the house until tomorrow. Should we send her a photo to prove it?” “Make sure you get my good side,” “I’ll try,” you laughed, opening the camera app and holding the phone out, quickly snapping a shot of you and Joe, tucked up under your warm quilt. You waited all of five seconds before your phone began to ring, Lucy’s name flashing up on the screen. “Put her on speaker,” Joe said, pausing the movie. “Hi Luce,” “You’ve got to come out! This party is so much fun, you’d love it!” You winced at Lucy’s shouted laugher, “You sound like you’re having a good time, how was the Oscars?” “They were fine, boring, this is wild though! Adam Driver is dancing on a table and I think I just saw Margot Robbie run through here with Taika Waititi’s Oscar! At least, I think it was him chasing her,” she broke out into laughter again, though the noise behind her faded out as she headed for somewhere a little quieter. “Stop namedropping,” Joe said, clearly amused, “it’s getting late and we’re all snuggly over here, I was thinking of a little snack and then bed.” “Oh god, don’t tell me you’re becoming one of those couples,” “One of what couples?” “One of those boring couples who never do anything fun. It’s just after ten, that doesn’t count as late. Now get up, put on something niceish and come join me here.” “We are not boring,” joe became indignant at the implication. “Then come and prove it. I’ll make it worth your while,” Lucy’s promise hung between you as you and Joe exchanged looks, both of you interested, but she followed it up with a long, “pleeeaassee,” anyway. It reminded you of what had happened last time Lucy had ended up back at your place, and that was all you needed to be convinced. “Fine,” Joe said into the phone, “We’ll come. Give us like half an hour to change and get over there.” As soon as he’d hung up you were both moving, pushing yourself from the couch, stretching. “What should I wear?” “Go with that blue dress. If Lucy’s anything like me she’ll be drooling over you so damn fast.” You giggled at his cheeky grin, “She’ll be drooling no matter what I wear, did you hear how whiny she sounded?” Joe laughed, “Couldn’t miss it. It was so hard not to ask her to beg.”

It took a little closer to 40 minutes for you and Joe to arrive but Lucy managed to keep her texts asking how far off you were to a minimum. She was waiting for you inside the lobby when you arrived, squealing when she saw you and pulling you into tight hugs. “Finally!” “We’re not that late,” “Shhh, yes you are. I love your dress! C’mon, we’re missing all the fun,” she grabbed your hand and dragged you upstairs, the noise getting louder with each step you took. There were people everywhere inside – women who’d kicked off their heels, men with undone bowties, some sitting around laughing and talking, others busting a move on the dancefloor. Lucy led you straight towards the crowded bar and pushed her way into the throng, giving you no choice but to follow. “You guys are like three behind me, so start with these,” she handed each of you a shot glass, “and then you can have some champagne.” “Do we get any food? Y/N made brownies earlier and I didn’t get to eat a sixth one because you called and made me come out.” “I think I saw food down that way,” she pointed away from the bar. “Hold my drink I’ll go find us something,”

Joe returned, triumphant, with a selection of cupcakes on a plate, each of them decorated with shards of toffee or chocolate curls and edible gold glitter. He carried his haul to a spare table, batting away your hand when you tried to take one of the desserts and picked one out for himself, taking a bite as seductively as he could manage. Lucy laughed which only made it harder for you to keep a straight face. “Jealous?” he asked through his mouthful. “Little bit,” "Well,” he said once he’d managed to swallow the cake, “I can fix that.” Joe darted forward to peck you on the lips, laughing as he pulled back an inch, almost nose to nose with you. “Not sure that helped much,” you initiated a second kiss, longer but soft and sweet. “Careful honey, or we’ll make poor Lucy jealous,” You turned your head and caught sight of Lucy, cheeks tinged with pink though that might have been the warmth of the room. “I’m not jealous.” “Oh yeah? How about now?” Joe bit into the cupcake again, right as Lucy began filming, covering her mouth so her giggles wouldn’t be heard too loudly. “Instagram is going to love that,” “They definitely will. Not as much as you’re going to enjoy…” he leaned in towards her ear and said something too quiet for you to hear. Whatever it was had an instant effect, Lucy’s lips opened in a soft gasp, her cheeks turning a darker shade of pink and her eyes darted towards you. You just smiled back and took another sip of drink. It took Lucy a few moments to recompose herself but it was made easier when Joe was pulled into a conversation with a few people he’d previously worked with, momentarily forgetting about teasing Lucy. Not that it mattered since you were there to take his place. “I didn’t say it before Luce, but I adore your dress. It’s gorgeous!” “Thank you! I’m so happy with it. Makes me feel like a princess,” “It totally suits you,” you giggled along with her, before leaning a bit closer and dropping your voice, “And kind of makes me wonder what you’ve got on underneath.” Lucy froze with her drink halfway to her lips. “Can’t really blame me though. It’s such light material, almost looks see-through in some places. Tease.” You looked off at the crowd as if you weren’t talking about Lucy’s undergarments, “Do they match the aesthetic, princess? They all pretty and pastel? I hope so.” “Lilac.” She almost whispered, not quite able to meet your eye. “Bra and panties?” “Flesh coloured bra. Lilac panties.” “That does sound pretty. And I bet we’ll be able to turn those pretty lilac panties a bit see through themselves with how wet you get.” Lucy bit her lip, eyes darting around to make sure no one was listening in. “But, really, you should have got rid of them the moment you called us to come here. You certainly won’t be wearing them for long once we leave. If we decide you deserve to come home with us. Pretty fucking obvious it’s what you wanted when you called.” Lucy whimpered right as Joe reappeared. “Y/N, what have you been doing to poor Lucy? She’s got that pleading subby look about her.” “I haven’t done anything to her. All we did was talk, hardly my fault if the silly little slut gets wet from it.” “Can we go, please?” Lucy asked, looking up at Joe. “Not yet, princess,” you said, “we were all comfy in our PJs when you called. So we’re going to stay for a bit longer, make the effort of getting up and driving over here worth it.” Joe leaned down to your ear, “Are you sure? She looks pretty needy already.” “I think we can get her looking downright desperate before we go.” You were both grinning when you turned back to Lucy, a slightly panicked look about her, though she was obviously aroused too. You could have sworn you heard her heart pounding as you shuffled your chair closer to hers, crossing one leg over the other and turning your body in towards hers. You definitely felt her shiver when you ran your fingers through the ends of her hair. Joe dropped into the seat on the other side of Lucy, taking her glass from her and placing it on the table in front of you before dropping his hand rest on her knee, blocking her in. His hand rose higher up her thigh, pulling the dress up with it and pulling another whimper from Lucy. “Awww, poor princess,” you cooed, “You wanna be touched, don’t you?” “Yes,” “Wanted that since the minute we arrived, haven't you?” “Yeah,” “You know if you just asked, we’d be happy to oblige,” “I asked to get out of here and you said no,” “Hear that Joe, she wants to get out of here and we’re being so mean,” you dropped your tone to the mocking one that never failed to make Lucy blush. “Awww, princess, you don’t get to make those decisions. And believe me, if we took you home with us now it wouldn’t be half as fun. For you anyway.” “You’re nowhere near ready for us to use yet. We’d have to tie you up and make you watch us until you were a drippy mess.” “We’d strip you first of course, wouldn’t want to ruin such a pretty dress,” Joe pinched the hem of her dress between his thumb and forefingers, dragging it a little higher up her legs. “And then we’d tie you to a chair so you’d have no choice but to watch me fuck Y/N until you were begging to be fucked the same way.” “If we were feeling generous we might use your mouth for a while. You’re very good with your mouth.” “And if you were very well behaved and begged enough we might find the energy to use your cunt. But chances are we’d be all worn out, spent, and you’d spend the night wet and desperate.” “In our bed of course, so we could make sure you weren’t playing without us. We’d make you wait all night for it,” you tugged on her hair, noting that Lucy’s legs were spread open just a little more than before, inviting you to touch her. “But if that’s what you want,” Joe made to stand up but Lucy stopped him. “Please, no. Stay.” “Then what do you want?” “I want one of you to touch me please,” “Touch you where? Gotta be specific, Luce.” Lucy’s eyes were wide as she looked at you, pleading for you not to make her say it, but she knew it was no use. She’d been caught between you and Joe enough times to know how much you enjoyed hearing her ask for what she wanted, how much you enjoyed making her blush and squirm, even if she pushed back. Sometimes especially when she pushed back. For a moment you thought she was going to cross her arms and pout and refuse to obey. But then. “Touch my pussy, please.” It was barely audible over the noise of the room. You glanced up at Joe who winked back as you dropped your hand and slowly began to trail your fingers up the inside of her thigh. Joe did the same on his side, slowly, softly. Lucy whined and let her legs fall open a little further. With a chuckle you pressed your fingers to the wet spot already forming. “Remind us what your safeword is,” “Apple,” “Apple, good girl. Now, don’t be too loud. Wouldn’t want anyone to realise what’s going on here,” you warned as you dragged your fingers up and down over her panties, irregularly pausing to circle her clit. Joe’s grip tightened on her leg to hold her in place as he kept talking to her, reminding her of what happened the last time she’d submitted to being your plaything, telling her how filthy she was for wanting you both to use her again. Lucy was struggling not to whine out loud, giving in when you pulled your fingers away. “Shhhh, princess. You knew you weren’t going to cum like this so there’s no point being a needy brat about it.” You wriggled your fingers under the leg of her panties, dragging them through her slick as much as the angle would allow. Her delight at finally being touched the way she wanted soon turned into a groan as you pulled your hand away, snapping the leg of her panties against her in the process. “Uh uh, don’t complain. Would have let your greedy cunt clench on my fingers a few times if you’d been good enough to remove those. But you didn’t, so you don’t get to.” You stood up, Lucy’s hand grabbing at your own. “Where are you going?” “Not far,” you shook her hand off and took the few steps that brough you to Joe’s chair, dropping onto his lap. He grinned as you brought your lips to his, the kiss harder and messier than the other you’d shared since you arrived. When you pulled back, shifting your attention to his ear and jaw, Joe grabbed your hand and brought your fingers to his mouth, sucking the residual wetness from them. “Fuck Luce, you taste incredible,” Lucy let out the most pathetic whine imaginable. “You reckon she’s desperate enough to fuck yet?” You laughed, nipping lightly at Joe’s jaw, “no but I think she’s desperate enough to take home.” Lucy was barely three steps into your living room when Joe unzipped her dress revealing her bra and, as she’d promised, lilac panties, a very noticeable wet patch darkening the front. He threw the dress over one arm and grabbed her ass with the other, “Y/N was very generous to touch you. Think it’s time you repaid the favour.” Lucy nodded and mumbled a yes as she moved behind you, unzipping your own dress. “Here, I’ll take that one too, darling. I’ll hang them up,” he draped the second dress over his arm and left you with a quick kiss, “you can get started on the slut.” Lucy whimpered but was quick to move when you clicked your fingers, kneeling at your feet. You ran your hand over her hair, smoothing it out, “Why am I still wearing panties?” Lucy gasped as you tugged on her hair, pulling her head back to look at you, “You know you have to earn the right to be fucked, and you know how much I love your pretty whore mouth. So what are you waiting for?” “I’m sorry,” she said, hands already grasping at the material and tugging it down your legs. You slackened your grip on her hair, letting her drop her head forward again, though you didn’t let go completely. Your underwear was halfway to your ankles when her tongue met your core. Slightly hesitant at first, she flicked her tongue over you, drawing back to look up at you with wide eyes. “Good girl, keep going,” As soon as she had your approval Lucy leaned back in, more sure of herself with every hitch in your breathing and every tug on her hair. Her fingers spread you open as she explored every inch of your pussy, nose nudging your clit as she sucked on your lips, the flat of her tongue dragging along your slit, small moans and hums getting lost against your skin. Joe was greeted by the sight when he re-entered the room, his cock already half hard from teasing Lucy. He’d shucked off his pants and shirt when he hung your dresses out of harms way, so there was only the thin barrier of his boxers when he palmed himself, watching from the doorway. “Good girl, Luce,” you gasped as her tongue pressed into you, her hands tight on your legs for stability and leverage. Joe took that as a cue to join in, his fingers brushing over your side as a warning he was there seconds before his lips found your throat. You hummed at his touch and let your head fall back. “You look like you’re having fun,” his voice was rough, right against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, “she behaving herself?” “Better than normal,” “Guess that’s what happens when she gets so desperate,” Joe laughed and busied himself with your neck again, sucking at a spot he knew would drive you crazy. Slowly he trailed his fingers up your sides again, pulling away to unclasp your bra. He threw it to the side and replaced the material with his hands, squeezing your breasts and rolling your nipples between his fingers as he began creating more marks on your throat. Your legs were fast turning to jelly, stimulation coming from both sides. Lucy was focused solely on pulling you to the edge, pushing first one and then a second finger into you as she lapped at you. “Can tell you’re getting close,” Joe mumbled, “aren’t you?” “Yeah,” the word slipped into a moan as Lucy shifted on her knees, latching onto your clit right as her fingers twitched against your wall. “Go on, cum all over Lucy’s face. She wants it, Y/N. Wants you to reward her for being so obedient, being such a useful whore.” “Fuck, yes, s-so close,” your leg shook as your orgasm approached, grasping behind you for Joe. And then it stopped. You whined as the edge slipped further away, blinking as you looked down and found Lucy smirking up at you. Your head was cloudy but Joe realised what had happened, quickly stepping around you to grasp at Lucy’s hair himself. She hissed at the strength of his hold. “You fucking brat,” “I was just repaying her like you said to. She didn’t let me cum before.” Joe didn’t know what to say to that. He walked towards the couch, Lucy having no choice but to follow on hands and knees. Realisation of what had happened crept up on you as you watched Lucy struggle to keep up, and you followed, taking a seat before your legs gave out completely. “You still wanna cum, darling?” “More than ever,” “Hear that, brat? No more fucking games.” His hand remained firm on the back of her head as he pushed her towards your soaked folds. Lucy let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine, but it was muffled as her mouth once again found you, Joe holding her in place. You moaned and let your legs fall open wider, the orgasm you’d been so close to before steadily building once more as you brought your own hand back to the top of Lucy’s head, laying it over Joe’s. Lucy moaned as her hair was caught between, the vibrations making your hips buck up towards her. “That’s right, Luce, keep going,” Joe growled, his free hand fumbling with the waistband of his underwear, trying to push them down. The sight of him pulling his cock free, calmly stroking it as he watched you writhe under Lucy’s ministrations, made your head spin and your cunt drip. “Use your fingers,” he commanded, tugging on Lucy’s hair again until she complied, “make her cum.” “Oh!” was all you could manage to say as Lucy slid three fingers into you, as deep as she could, fucking you with them as she focused her lips and tongue on your clit. Your nails clawed at the couch as you felt your stomach tighten, the release inevitable this time since Joe gave Lucy no other option but to finish you off. It hit you hard, a moaned curse torn from your throat as your back arched and your legs shook. But Lucy kept going, prolonging the pleasure. She slowly pulled her fingers from you, tongue still lapping up the mess you’d made, only stopping when Joe pulled her away.

Lucy was yanked back on her knees, panting slightly, Joe’s fist still tangled in her hair as he stepped in front of her, using his grip to position her where he wanted. “That was so fucking hot,” he said, tapping the head of his cock against her lips, “got me so hard. But that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” Lucy gasped out a quick yes in the second she had before he was filling her mouth, slowly easing himself in and out, letting her adjust. You watched from the couch, still a little dazed, as Joe worked himself further down her throat, cooing about how pretty she sounded when she gagged. It was only after she’d adjusted enough to properly deepthroat him that you joined them, kneeling on the floor beside Lucy. “Such a talented little slut, taking dick so well,” you said softly to her, dropping your fingers down to slide along her soaked undies. Lucy’s moan was muffled but you could tell it had happened by the way Joe’s hips bucked, pushing him deeper into her. “Gonna let Joey fuck your throat, aren’t you? Blink twice if you’re okay with that.” She blinked twice. “There you go, Joe, she wants it.” “She always wants it. Can’t fucking get enough of it.” He laughed as he pulled back and then snapped his hips forward again. He quickly found a steady rhythm, pulling wet gags from Lucy as he used her throat mercilessly. You took the chance to unhook her bra, pulling it off her easily since there were no straps to worry about. The panties were harder to get to while she was kneeling, so you settled on partially pulling them down and wriggling your hand in the rest of the way, sliding your fingers between her lips and around her clit. But never enough to make her cum. Lucy whined when you paused your movements to let her calm down a bit. “Sorry princess, am I being mean again?” She hummed urgently, Joe grunting above you as he felt it in his cock, only inspiring him to pick up his pace. “What was that? Couldn’t hear you?” “Thi-nk she want a-another edge,” “That can be arranged,” you began circling her clit again, careful not to let her get too close. Lucy blinked, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks as saliva dribbled over her chin. “He’s close, Luce, and you’re going to behave and let him fill your mouth with cum. But you are not going to swallow. Clear?” Lucy blinked twice again. “Good.” Joe pulled himself from her throat as you reached up to his balls, rolling them in your hand, pulling a gasped expletive from him followed by a moan. He was still holding onto Lucy’s hair, keeping her in place as he coated her tongue. You tugged your hand from between her legs and instead grasped her throat, warning her not to swallow. “Fuck,” Joe breathed out as he fell from her lips, panting slightly. His eyes fell to Lucy, makeup smudged, face covered in spit and tears, tongue sticking out to display her obedience, “you look like a fucking mess. Spit everything I gave you into Y/N’s mouth.” Lucy made a noise of protest and didn’t move. “Don’t argue. We know you get off on being our cumdump. We know you’d swallow load after load after load and still want more. But you decided you’d try to be clever tonight. And bratty little whores don’t get rewarded. So do what you’re told.” You grabbed Lucy by the chin, turning her head towards you, and stuck out your own tongue. She hesitated for a moment before she shifted on her knees, leaning over you and letting a string of saliva and cum drip onto you. You swallowed before pulling her into a sloppy kiss, double checking you’d got every drop from her.

When you were done you pushed Lucy from you and grabbed onto the hand Joe was offering to help you up. “Fuck that was sexy,” he whispered to you, “and it’s got Lucy so riled up.” “She is fun to tease,” you giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he reached out to help Lucy up too, smiling at her. “Do you want me to call you a cab Luce?” He asked, “Or you can crash here if you’d like. The spare room’s already made up.” “What?” Lucy’s tone was panicked. “What? Were you expecting something else?” “I- But- I-” “Words, Lucy,” you said kindly, wrapping your arm around Joe and leaning into his chest, “You gotta use ‘em for us to understand,” She looked from you to Joe and back again, clearly confused by the turn the evening had taken, “but…I didn’t...I thought you’d…” You raised your eyebrows but didn’t say anything. Finally Lucy sighed, “You didn’t fuck me.” “Aww, princess,” Joe laughed, “We said you weren’t going to be rewarded.” “Please, I promise I’ll be good.” “She sounds desperate Joey,” “I am. I want it so bad. I’ll do anything if you please please fuck me.” “That’s good, because you’d have to do something to atone for your lapse of judgement earlier. A punishment.” “Yes, of course, anything, please.” “What do you think darling?” “I don’t know,” “Please, Y/N,” You hid your smile as best you could, thoroughly enjoying seeing Lucy looking so pathetically needy, “I suppose we could work out something. A spanking maybe? Say five?” “You think that’s enough of a punishment?” Lucy’s head flicked between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match as you discussed her fate. “Hmmm, ten then?” “How about ten from each of us? And she’s not allowed to cum until we say she can.” “What happens if she does?” Joe thought about it for a moment but before he could answer Lucy chimed in with her own suggestion. “You tie me up and make me watch while you fuck Y/N.” “Someone liked being threatened with that earlier. But it works for me,” Joe agreed and then nodded towards the couch, voice low and rough when he spoke to Lucy, “Arms on the back of the couch and bend over.” Lucy quickly complied but you and Joe took your time joining her. “You’re fucking devious and I’ve never loved you more,” he caught you up in a kiss, pulling you tight against him. “Except when I’m using that deviousness against you, right?” A soft blush coloured his cheeks, “Yes, ma’am.” “Don’t worry, I’ve still got plenty of ideas just for you,” you laughed as he dropped his head to your shoulder with a groan, cock twitching against your thigh, “C’mon, our pathetic princess awaits.” Joe let you take his hand and pull him over to the couch where Lucy was shivering with anticipation, hands braced on the back of the couch and ass stuck out. “Who should get the first turn, princess?” Lucy opened her mouth and then closed it again, thinking it over, “Umm, Y/N?” “Yeah? You don’t sound so sure.” Lucy bit her lip, “Joe?” “Do you want us to choose?” “Yes please.” “Then Joe can go first,” you gave his bum a playful tap to send him on his way and then kneeled on the couch, lightly rubbing the back of Lucy’s hands, “we’ll be nice and get the harder hits out of the way first.” Lucy jolted with a cry as Joe brought his hand down without warning. “And then I’ll have my turn when you’re all sore and warm and drippy.” A second spank made Lucy groan, head falling forward so she was leaning her forehead against the back of the couch. You let her stay like that for a few more smacks, shifting your hands to grip her wrists more tightly, locking her in place. Each hit made her squirm, trying to dance out of the way of the next but there was nowhere to go. All she could do was wait for the next and whine when it finally happened. After the sixth spank you told her to look at you. She didn’t need to be told twice. “Why are you being spanked?” “For being a brat and trying to edge you,” she managed to pant out around the whine another spank caused. “That’s right. And you’re not going to try that again, are you?” “No,” “Good girl,” you brushed her hair behind her ear, all the better to see her face, tear stained and pleading, “Taking it so well, princess. Only a few more to go.” Joe paused to rub his hands over her burning skin, letting her take a few shaky breaths. The last three spanks came quickfire, one after another, the sound of each one louder than the last. Lucy let out a broken sob when it was over. “Good girl, doing so well Luce,” you said softly, letting go of her wrists to rub her arms. Joe agreed as he once again rubbed lightly at the spots his palm had just left. He bent forward to leave a light kiss on her back, “you okay to keep going?” Lucy took a deep breath, letting it go slowly, “yeah, I’m good.” “You sure? We can skip forward if you want,” “No, no, I can take it. I want it.” With that confirmation you allowed her one small kiss to the top of her head, a gesture that made her hum in appreciation, before you stood and joined Joe behind her. “So pretty and pink,” you said, rubbing one of her cheeks. Joe chuckled beside you, “Not sure I hit her hard enough if she still wants more. Think she forgot it’s meant to be a punishment.” “Guess I’ll just have to remind her then,” Joe took the spot on the couch, hands tight around Lucy’s wrists to hold her still. You let her stew for a minute, just rubbing your hand over her ass, letting your fingers dip down towards her pussy but never quite making it. When you heard her whine you let her have the first slap, sharp and fast. She squealed and danced on the spot. You went back to the slow, soothing, rub, giving her a chance to calm down. Once again you trailed your fingers lower, this time letting them slide along her folds. “God she’s wet.” “I noticed,” Joe said with a grin, “Pathetic.” Lucy whimpered as you kept rubbing her, though the noise turned into a squeal when you brought your hand down on her again, as hard as you could manage. Your fingers stayed between her legs, as you lay a series of rapid-fire spanks against her ass, the pink blush deepening with each one. Your hand tingled when you were done but it was worth it just to hear the way her breath came in broken gasps. “Learnt your lesson?” Joe asked, only letting go of her wrists once she'd said yes, “No more trying to be clever? No more brattyness?” “No, I’ll be good,” she pushed herself to stand up straight again. “I don’t know,” you looked over at Joe, winking at him when Lucy’s back was turned, “I think she might just be saying that so we’ll let her cum.” “I swear I’m not,” Lucy whipped around to look at you, eyes pleading. You laughed, “Let’s test that, shall we?”

Grabbing her hand, you pulled her towards your bedroom, Joe following. She hissed as you pushed her onto the bed, reacting to the sheets against her sensitive bum, but the sound was quickly swallowed by you as you straddled her and pressed your lips to hers. “God that’s hot,” you heard Joe say, making you laugh into the kiss. Lucy was hungry for more, hands coming up to grab your waist as she willingly opened her mouth to you. You teased her by intentionally slowing down, though it took most of your willpower. You rolled over so you were both on your sides, continuing to kiss her as your hands roamed over her body. She whined at the loss of energy but stopped trying to speed up when you pinched her nipple. It was always fun to get Lucy this worked up. She would have done anything you asked of her at the promise of some small stimulation. You were on the verge of telling her to hump your leg like a bitch in heat, just to see how fast she’d agree, when Joe joined in, his fingers finding their way to your pussy. You let out a moan at the contact, so worked up from playing with Lucy. And judging by the similar sound she made, he’d got a hand on both of you. He matched your slow pace as he let a finger slip into you, pumping in and out methodically, adding a second and then a third. “Please,” Lucy whined when you broke away to mouth at her neck. “Please what?” “I need more.” “More what, princess?” “More...I don’t know, more something, please.” “That’s not very specific,” Joe said with a laugh, his fingers withdrawing from you and Lucy, “but I think we can come up with something.” You grabbed Lucy’s chin and looked her right in the eye, “Don’t fucking cum.” She swallowed hard and nodded. “Alright, Joey, she’s all yours,” you pushed yourself from the bed as Joe grabbed Lucy roughly by the hips and pulled her onto her knees, her ass in the air. “About time.” There was a brief pause as joe stroked himself and then he thrust into her in one hard movement, her moan muffled by the sheets. You looked over you shoulder, taking a second to appreciate how good Joe looked, how well the dominant roll suited him, before making your way towards your cupboard where your special box lived. Unhurriedly you looked through it, finding first the harness and then an appropriately sized dildo, something comparable to Joe though a little wilder in colour. Lucy was moaning a mixture of unintelligible sounds and pleaded names, both yours and Joe’s, into the bed as Joe took his sweet time, teasing her with each slow, deliberate thrust. His white knuckle grip on her hips was the only indication of his self-control, everything else about his movements appearing easy. Once you were set up, you walked back to the bed, standing in front of Lucy and lacing your fingers through her hair. With one tug you had her raising her face towards you, pulling her up onto her hands. She didn’t even need to be asked before she was opening her mouth, letting you lay the head of your fake cock against her tongue. You tried to time each of your thrusts to match with Joe’s, one of you sliding further into her as the other pulled back. Always slow. A few times Lucy tried to speed things up, tried to take you deeper in her throat or to thrust back against Joe, but you never let it happen. His grip on her hips held her where he wanted her and it was simple enough to pull back further than she was expecting. The third time she tried to deepthroat you, you laughed. “Cock hungry bitch,” Joe chuckled too, “I think that means she’s ready for you,” Lucy nodded rapidly as you pulled back completely. Joe gave one last lazy thrust and then moved away too, letting you take his place. “Want you on your back,” you said, tapping Lucy’s thigh to get her to roll over. She complied quickly, letting you settle between her thighs, your cock resting against her soaked cunt. You leaned forward to kiss her as you slid into her, able to feel her gasp when you bottomed out. “You can cum whenever you want but I’m not stopping until I have too.” Lucy’s head tiled back as you began pounding into her and you took the opportunity to wrap your hand around her throat. Her moans only got higher and louder as she rapidly approached the edge. Joe trailed kisses over the back of your shoulders and neck, up to your jaw, as he pressed in close. Your tempo faltered as you let him enter you, Lucy whining softly, but before long you’d found your rhythm again. Lucy came when you let go of her throat, unable to hold off any longer. “A-always been vo-vocal, princess,” you panted as her cries filled the room, yours and Joe’s grunts and moans almost getting lost with how loud she was. But it didn’t take long before she was whimpering as her sensitivity rose. You didn’t slow down though, chasing your own release, just as you said you would. “She can go again,” Joe said against your ear and you brought your fingers to her clit, pushing her, whimpering, into a second orgasm. Joe came at the sight, biting down on your shoulder as he filled you. He didn’t stop though. Your own hips stilled as you felt yourself getting closer, the dildo rubbing against your clit and Joe continuing to fuck you just how you needed, even as he hissed with overstimulation. Lucy pulled you down into another heated kiss, biting your lip as she pinched and pulled at your nipples. You moaned against her lips as you finally hit your peak, trembling with the force of it.

With a groan, Joe carefully pulled out of you and collapsed on the bed. You took a few moments to calm your breathing before you climbed off Lucy, using what little energy remained to free yourself from the harness. It fell to the floor and you left it there as you climbed back onto the bed. “You okay, Luce?” you asked softly, stroking her hair. “Mmhmm, great,” “Joe?” “I’m here, I’m good,” You all just lay there for some time, breathing heavily, Lucy between you and Joe so she was in easy cuddling reach for both of you. “See, I told you, Luce” Joe said, finally breaking the silence. “Told me what?” “I told you we weren’t a boring couple.”

#joe mazzello x reader #lucy boynton x reader #joe mazzello x reader x lucy boynton #joe mazzello smut #lucy boynton smut #my writing #my fics #it's FINALLY finished omg #i've taken so long to do this #i think its good tho #okay now i gotta have a shower cause im fucking sweating)

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 3: Signed In Blood]

Series summary: You are an overwhelmed and disenchanted nurse in Boston, Massachusetts. Queen is an eccentric British rock band you’ve never heard of. But once your fates intertwine in the summer of 1974, none of your lives will ever be the same...

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, physical frailty, sneaky foreshadowing.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

The cashier blinks at you as he scans the items in your basket: two Cokes, an orange juice, a Mountain Dew, a grape Fanta, a box of Ritz crackers, a KitKat, three packs of cherry Pop Rocks, and assorted bags of Lay’s chips. “You must have, like, a lot of kids.”

“Something like that.”

Terminal E of Logan International Airport is bustling with swiftly-moving businessmen dragging rolling suitcases, tidy-looking flight attendants, careening toddlers and frazzled mothers. The band is waiting at the gate; their plane to Heathrow is scheduled to board in thirty minutes. Our plane, you correct yourself. I’m going too.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I ran out of paper bags but I can check in the back if you want—”

“Oh no,” you protest, slapping a ten-dollar bill onto the counter and gathering up the snacks. You’ve cultivated a stubborn solidarity with your fellow service industry employees. “That’s cool, I’ve got it. Thanks. Have a great day!”

“You too! Good luck with your kids!”

You laugh as you trot away. Yes, my very large, extremely anarchic British children. You could have sent Freddie and Rog for the snacks, but you don’t trust them not to try to steal something and end up getting strip-searched by TSA; Brian is still too weak to go anywhere alone; and John...well, John dissolves into blood-red cheeks and averted eyes if you ask him anything. You weave through the crowded terminal, shifting your arms to keep the snacks centered.

“Wow, you have your hands full there!”

You peer around the heap to see a businessman in a powder blue suit, neatly combed black hair, mid-thirties, benign smile. Your arms are beginning to ache. “Ha, yeah. I guess I do.”

“Need some help?” he asks, still smiling.

“Oh, thank you so much, but I’ve got it—”

“Nonsense.” He cheerfully plucks the chips and Pop Rocks out of your grasp. “Where are we going?”

Oh no. You know this type of man. He’s the guy who flirts with the nurses while his wife is recovering from a gallbladder removal, who tries to impress you with his mid-level accounting job and Marshall Field's neckties, who obliviously—or worse, forcefully—offers assistance when it’s least desired. He’s the type to play superhero so he can get a taste of what it feels like to be someone who matters. He’s not usually dangerous, but he is viperous if his fantasy gets interrupted, bitter and desperate and striking out like a wounded animal. Jesus christ, I do not have time for this bullshit today. The muscles in your forearms are screaming now. “Seriously, I can handle it. Thank you. Can I get my snacks back? My friends are waiting.”

His smile falters; suddenly, Mr. Aspiring Superman doesn’t seem so benign at all. And you can’t help but notice that his grip around your criminally overpriced airport snacks doesn’t loosen. Oh fucking hell. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Are you stupid or something? Don’t you get it, I’m trying to help—”

“Hey, baby!” chimes a voice from nowhere. An arm appears around your shoulders, pulling you in; John lands a series of kisses across your neck and jawline as the businessman gawks, speechless and horrified. “Did you finish shopping? Oh, you remembered my Coke! Thanks, baby. You’re the best. Come on, they’re gonna start boarding soon...” He stops, stares at the businessman, points with narrowed steely grey eyes: “Are those my Pop Rocks?”

“Uh, uh, yeah, uh...” The man hastily shoves the snacks into John’s hands and flees. John immediately backs away from you, clears his throat, casts his eyes down the opposite end of the airport terminal.

“Oh my god,” you say, stunned. “I’ve never heard you talk that much at once. Ever.”

He flushes and combs his agile fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I’m so sorry, I just thought...I saw that he was...I figured that would get him to piss off without causing a scene...I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that, I—”

“No, John, seriously, that was brilliant. Thank you.”

“Yeah?” And you think you can detect something in his voice like hope: cautious, fragile hope. More than that, you can still feel his lips against your skin, hot and sure and assertive, almost dominating.

You grin over at him as you walk together towards the gate. “I bet everyone thinks you’re real innocent because you’re the shy, quiet, mysterious one or whatever. But you have some serious game under all of that, don’t you?”

John chuckles out of pure shock, still not looking at you. “I doubt it.”

“I’m onto you, bassist. Those groupies aren’t going to know what hit them.”

Wait, he has a girlfriend, isn’t that what Freddie said? But if he does, John doesn’t correct you.

“Do I see my beloved Pop Rocks?!” Roger squeals when he spies you both. John tosses all three packets to him. Roger rips one open, pours the entirety of the contents into his mouth, then motions for you to pass him the can of grape Fanta. He gulps the Fanta and drums his palms against his thighs as his mouth erupts into sugary explosions.

“Majestic,” you comment.

“Wha...?! I will not be outdone!” Freddie seizes all the remaining Pop Rocks—both packs—and empties them into his mouth, then douses them with Coke. Dark fizzing soda and ruby crystals spew out of his nose. Roger throws back his head and cackles like a hyena as John launches balled-up napkins at Freddie. You ignore them and check on Brian, who is lounged sideways across five seats.

“How you doing, Bri?”

He groans in reply. You give him the orange juice and Ritz crackers.

“Eat, please, Bri.”

“I can’t. I’m dying.”

“You aren’t bloody dying!” Freddie sighs, exasperated, still mopping Coke off his face.

You lay the back of your hand against Brian’s forehead and frown. “You’re burning up, Mr. May.”

“I’ve got aspirin somewhere...” Roger says as he rummages through his luggage.

“He can’t have it. His liver’s still recovering, no over-the-counter meds.” You take two still-cold cans—your Mountain Dew and Bri’s orange juice—and press them to Brian’s cheeks. John, without speaking, lays his Coke against the back of Brian’s neck. “Think you can make it through a six-hour flight?”

Brian’s glassy eyes roam to you. “No offense, but I would literally rather be disemboweled by rabid opossums than spend another night in Boston.”

“Opossums very rarely contract rabies. But your point is noted. We’ll get you home.”

“Thank you,” Brian breathes, drained. “And thank you, John.”

“Not a problem.”

Freddie squats in front of Bri in skin-tight jeans littered with patches, brushes the mess of curls off Brian’s forehead, and pushes a Ritz cracker into his mouth. Brian grimaces but chews it reluctantly. Freddie grins. “You must be truly desperate to trust your wellbeing to Deaky.”

“He’s unexpectedly ferocious,” you warn Brian. “He ran off some creep at the snack stand. Kid could definitely murder you if he tried.”

“Yeah? Well done, Deaks!” Roger gives John a high-five, then aggressively ruffles his hair and growls. “Who’s my favorite little killer bassist?! Grrr. Grrrrrrrrr. Come on. Show me them pearly whites, Mack the Knife.”

John chomps at Roger’s hands in his very best impression of a shark. Roger laughs and yanks teasingly at John’s hair, his face lit up like the Boston Harbor on the Fourth of July.

The next time you look for Freddie, he’s disappeared. You finally spot him several seats away, bent over a notebook and scribbling furiously, snapping his fingers over and over again and murmuring to himself: “Killer bassist...killer woman...killer bitch...killer queen.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When boarding begins, Freddie and Roger practically carry Brian onto the plane. They drop him into a window seat and Brian promptly drapes a sweater over his head and falls asleep. You sit beside him and flip through a fashion magazine you found in the pocket on the back of the chair in front of you, but Roger keeps interrupting by ranking the pictured outfits on a scale of one to eleven.

“Why eleven?”

“Because I gave that neon yellow coat three pages ago a ten, but now I like these rainbow pants even more. So they have to be an eleven.”

“Okay Roger.”

Freddie and John sit in the row in front of you and alternate between scrawling in their notebooks—song lyrics for Freddie, sketches of some kind of amplifier for John—and tossing peanuts into each other’s mouths. John doesn’t speak to you, but he keeps glimpsing back between the seats like he’s considering it. When Roger gets up two hours in to take a smoke break and chase down extra peanut packets for Freddie, John finally turns around and peeks over his seat.

“Why don’t opossums get rabies?” he asks.

“That’s what’s on your mind?” you tease, sipping Mountain Dew.

“Maybe.”

“Okay. Buckle up. It’s technically possible for opossums to get rabies. But they have naturally super low body temperatures, like 94 or 95 degrees Fahrenheit. So the virus usually can’t survive in their system. Thus, squeaky clean opossums.”

“Well. Minus the ticks and fleas and dirt and rubbish and all that.”

“Most of the cute things in life are at least slightly grubby.”

“Like Roger Taylor.”

You laugh. “That man has definitely been submerged in garbage at some point.”

“You have no idea. But you have to learn to be a Londoner now. We wouldn’t say grubby, we’d say dodgy.”

“Dodgy. Got it.”

“Show me. Use it in a sentence.”

“Roger is super dodgy, while Brian is much less so. Jury’s still out on John.”

“Well done.” He applauds.

Now you reach out to touch his hair, like Roger did earlier; it’s impossibly soft and downy, comforting, almost homey. John smiles patiently. “You have fantastic bone structure, you know,” you tell him. “You should cut this off one day so people can see it.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. But in the meantime...” You gently thread your fingertips through his locks, twirl a strand, observe that those blue-grey eyes that seemed steely back at the airport are now as soft and innocuous as morning fog. Roger reappears with his loot of peanut packets and gasps, pretending to be scandalized.

“What’s going on here?! Jesus, Deaks, I leave you alone for three minutes and you’ve got her all enamored with your soft cuddly exterior and latent homicidal tendencies.”

“It’s a winning combination.” John catches the peanuts that Roger hurls his way and turns to split them with Freddie.

You gaze up at Roger and beam. “Hey, dodgy Rogey.”

“Oh, you think that’s charming?” He slinks into his seat and drapes an arm across your shoulders. “You realize you’re one of us now, right? That makes you dodgy too.”

“As long as I don’t have to participate in any scandalous naked photoshoots.”

“Oh my god, that was one time! Freddie, Fred, hey, Freddie, why would you show her those...?!”

Hours later, when the plane hits the runway at Heathrow, Brian jolts awake and clutches for you like a staircase railing. He’s cooler to the touch now, appears less feverish, insists he feels better; nevertheless, Freddie and Roger escort him all through the airport like intense and sunglasses-armored Secret Service agents flanking Nixon, steadying him on escalators and dragging his luggage. As the five of you descend into the arrivals area, Freddie points to a group of young women and shrieks in delight, waves, blows flirtatious kisses all the way down the steps.

“Freddie!” the blonde one calls, leaping in her heels and grinning enormously. She’s holding a large, glittery sign that reads: Welcome home, Queen! Freddie races to meet her, sweeps her off her feet, dips her halfway to the floor and kisses her deeply, theatrically. The blonde woman in his arms giggles and buries her fingers in his mane of shining black hair.

“Darling?” Freddie says, spinning to find you, flourishing his artful hands. “This is Mary Austin, the love of my life. Mary, this is our new best friend, Florence Nightingale.”

“Well,” you confess. “That’s not my actual name, obviously. It’s—”

“I quite like Florence Nightingale,” John says. “I’ve always fancied the name Florence. That’s where Dante was from. He was exiled during some political conflict and ended up bouncing around all over Italy. He eventually landed in Ravenna and finished The Divine Comedy there. By the time he died, he hadn’t seen Florence in twenty years. But Florence was always home.” He smiles at you in an off-kilter, crafty sort of way that tells you you’ve at last been admitted into the diminutive, highly selective circle of people that John calls friends; and you feel like you’ve won the lottery for the second time in forty-eight hours.

“Hmm,” Freddie replies, puzzled. Mary nods uncertainly. Then John turns to greet a petite auburn-haired girl in a simple turquoise sundress and with long, bone-white legs.

Brian pulls you away to introduce you to his girlfriend, the one he was always trying to call on the hospital phone. He rests his hands on your shoulders as he presents you. “Chrissie, I love this woman.”

Chrissie glowers and crosses her arms. “Oh.”

“Wait, no, sorry, I mean she saved my life. She was my nightshift nurse in Boston. I was completely lost before she found me, tremendously depressed. You know how I get. She’s come to London to look after me. Then we’re going to convince the record company to hire her as our travel nurse.”

“Oh!” Now Chrissie softens. She has wavy brunette hair, plump cheeks, marvelous wide-set blue eyes, a completely uncomplicated presence. She embraces you kindly, gratefully. “Thank you so much, love.”

“No, please, it was my pleasure! Bri is a perfect gentleman. And a genius. But you already know that.”

“Chris, I was hoping she could borrow our couch for a few days until she finds her own place...”

“Of course!” Chrissie replies, fussing with your hair, studying you, her mind roiling. “What’s ours is yours. But it’s not much, I’ll warn you.”

“I’ll pay rent. And cook and clean. I’ll be a certified house wench.”

Chrissie laughs, then screams as Brian staggers and collapses to the floor. “Bri—?!”

“He’s alright,” you announce calmly as everyone crowds around. You claw through your luggage, pull out an instant cold pack, crack it and press it to Brian’s forehead. He stirs and mumbles something about New Orleans. “Rog, can you flag down a taxi? We gotta get him home.”

“Sure, you got it.” Roger darts off. And as Chrissie, Freddie, Mary, John, and John’s girlfriend—whom you gather from their conversation is named Veronica—scuttle to reassure Brian and fetch him water, you lock stares with Josephine. Roger’s girlfriend—super casual, not exclusive, that’s what he told me—is beautiful and slim and tan and dark-eyed and, worse than all of that, palpably clever. She considers you silently, and what crosses through her pristine, heart-shaped face is not mere suspicion but knowing; and perhaps there is acceptance there as well.

No, not acceptance, you realize. Resignation. Disappointment. Powerlessness.

You tear your eyes away from Josephine and turn back to Brian: tilting a bottle of water against his lips, pulling him to his feet, fanning him with airplane tickets, leading him to a bench to wait for the taxi. The others help, oblivious to the shadow that has marauded through the room like an eclipse.

I won’t end up like her, you think to yourself with savage determination. I won’t let myself love him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian sinks into a plush orange lounge chair as you and Chrissie cart the luggage inside. You get a tour of their tiny apartment, shove your few remaining belongings beneath the couch where you now live, and drop into the plaid cushions, covering your face with your hands.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe I did this. I quit my job. I left Boston. I’m living on some random couple’s couch in London. Oh my god.”

“Hey,” Chrissie says warmly, lifting your chin. “We aren’t so random. We’re your friends. Maybe we’re even your destiny.”

“Jesus, you’re something out of a fairytale.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be cleaning my house, Cinderella.” Chrissie tosses a bag over her shoulder and heads for the door. “I have to swing by work and see if my students killed the substitute teacher today, will you two be alright here?”

“Of course,” you say. Brian gives her a groggy thumbs-up.

“Okay. Bye for now. Love you lots, Bri.”

“Love you,” Brian replies weakly. Chrissie departs into a bright London summer. Brian looks over at you sorrowfully, guiltily. “I miss New Orleans.”

“What do you miss about New Orleans, Bri?” You know Queen stopped there before they came to Boston, before they came into your life.

“Can I confess something to you?”

“Sure.”

He stares at the wall, vacant, acutely distressed. “I think I’m in love with a stripper called Peaches.”

“Oooookay.” You snatch up your purse and dash for the apartment door.

“Wait, no, really, I—”

“Don’t tell me about it. Call Roger or someone. Or, better yet, write a song about it and make some money so we can all have mansions with swimming pools one day. Do you need anything from that grocery store on the corner?”

Brian sighs mournfully. “I suppose not.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Then you’re getting homemade chicken noodle soup. Everything will be better now, Brian. I promise. Everything will go back to the way it should be. Now that you’re home. Now that you’re here.”

Brian echoes quietly to himself as you open the door and sunlight floods in: “Now I’m here.”

#queen fanfic #queen #queen fic #roger taylor #roger taylor fic #john deacon fic #john deacon #borhap #but you can never leave #but you can never leave series #but you can never leave fic

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